Last Call Page 17

  “Ada? What is it?”

  I sit, feeling a hell of a lot less carefree than I did a minute ago.

  She drops her head into her hands, looking outside the door behind me.

  “This is getting really complicated,” she says in an undertone.

  “Getting? Ada, I’m pretty sure this has been complicated from the start.”

  Her demeanor has completely changed from inside the boardroom. What the hell is going on here?

  “What’s wrong?”

  Ada opens the slip of paper Qasim gave her at the meeting. Turning it, she leans forward, handing it to me.

  Report will be needed. But NBD. 2-weeker.

  I look up, having no idea what this is supposed to mean.

  Ada lowers her voice despite the fact we’re in an empty office.

  “Qasim is the lead on toxicology. He’d be the one helping with the Phase IV study.”

  I’m still lost.

  “That’s him saying that, in the end, we will need the report. But that it’s no big deal. A two-weeker means he can have it done quickly.”

  I breathe a sigh of relief.

  “That’s great, right? It means there probably won’t be a delay.” Before she can answer, I feel compelled to throw in, “And do you guys seriously need an acronym for ‘no big deal’?”

  I finally get a smile from her, but it fades quickly. “It’s good news for you, yes. But no delay means the only snag you’ll hit at this point is—” she swallows, looking like her pet just died, “—me.”

  It takes me a second to put it all together.

  I lower my voice. “So you’re worried that if we’re caught, you’ll be the reason we might not start bringing in money before the eighteen-month mark?”

  Ada nods.

  Jesus. That’s all? That’s not news. I don’t care about that anymore. I’m ready to accept the consequences of us being together. And if she’d feel better recusing herself from our case, I’m fine with that too.

  I love her, and that’s what really matters.

  I want to tell her all of that. But not here. Not yet.

  “Tonight.” I stand. “We’ll talk tonight.” I can’t wait until the weekend. “But seriously, Ada, don’t worry about that.”

  She’s not listening.

  “Don’t worry? How can I not worry?”

  I know from our conversation on Sunday night that she followed through with her decision to tell her parents everything. And that her dad thinks Ada should remove herself from our case. But we expected that. And he did say the decision was hers and that he wanted to meet me.

  “Tonight,” I say. She’s already told me she wants to get in a run and will be coming over afterward. “It’ll be OK,” I promise her.

  I hate to leave her like this, without so much as a single touch, a kiss, to show her my words aren’t just empty platitudes, that it really will be OK. But kissing her in her office isn’t going to solve anything, so I settle for a smile and try to elicit one from her.

  “I should get back to the office. See you tonight?”

  She nods. “I’ll text you, but it will probably be around eight by the time I get to your place.”

  “With any luck, it’ll stay dry for you. There’s a ten percent chance of rain.”

  I get a teeny-tiny smile, but it’s not the crazy happy kind I want to pull out of her.

  I look at my watch. Just eight hours . . .

  And all will be well.

  32

  Ada

  “Damn, girl. I wouldn’t want to be you right now.”

  Not exactly the message of reassurance that I was hoping for.

  “We really should do this more.” Karlene knocks back a vodka and club, same as me. “Without rooftop bars, New York in July would be completely unacceptable.”

  Qasim’s jaw drops.

  “More? Were you or were you not just here with me on Friday night?”

  We’re sitting in a circle, thankfully under an umbrella for shade, as more and more people begin to filter in after work. It won’t get really busy until after six, but we snuck out at five. Given the typical hours people pull in the city, it’s basically the middle of the work day.

  “OK, but what I meant is that we shouldn’t always wait for Friday. Tuesday is a perfect day for some outside drinking.”

  “Speak for yourself, Kar. We don’t all have drinking problems,” Qasim teased.

  I sip my drink, trying to enjoy their company and the beautiful weather. But this isn’t really a social visit. It’s an emergency HH—happy hour—I called because I desperately need their advice.

  “Speaking of drinking problems . . . ,” I begin.

  My friends revert back to the task at hand.

  “I need your help.”

  I know what my parents think, what my sisters think, and I have an idea of what these two think, but I’m still extremely torn.

  Yes, it’s my life. And this should be my decision. I’m a grown woman, capable of making up my mind.

  But meeting Hayden has seriously screwed with my ability to think straight—to operate based on logic rather than emotion.

  “Yeah, you do,” Qasim quipped. “That’s twice I’ve seen you two together.”

  “Ouch,” Karlene adds, waving her hand as if it’s been scorched. “I ran into them in the hall today. Talk about chemistry.”

  This so isn’t helping.

  “That’s exactly the problem,” I say. “There’s no way this is going to stay quiet. Even if we do try to sneak around like a couple of teenagers.” I pause, then add, “I told my family everything.”

  Kar’s eyes widen. “And?”

  “And my dad, rightly so, says I’m walking a very thin line.”

  “No surprise there.” She shrugs. “I mean, it’s not like you didn’t already know that.”

  “I know, but I guess I’m not worried about me so much as I am about Hayden. He has more to lose here.”

  He said he trusts me, and I trust my friends, so I tell them about his loan arrangement. And a little bit about his relationship with his dad.

  When I’m done, Qasim whistles. “Yikes. But, I mean, he’s an adult, right? If you’re willing to take a risk, maybe let him decide if he wants to do the same.”

  “I’m concerned he might make the wrong decision,” I say in a rush. “He can’t risk his business for me.”

  They exchange a look.

  “So what are you saying?” Karlene asks.

  I’m not sure. Which is exactly why I’m sitting here drinking a vodka and club rather than running off a weekend of my mother’s baking.

  “I need to text him.”

  Qasim stands, presumably to get another drink. “Good idea. You ladies need another?”

  I shake my head. Karlene looks like she wants to say something, but instead she takes out her own phone. She’s just doing it to be polite, though, because when I look up from my screen, she’s waiting for me.

  “I told him I wasn’t coming. That I’d call in a bit.”

  Now that I cancelled our plans, I want to be anywhere but here. I want to be alone. Why did I think Karlene and Qasim could solve this mess for me? I’ve been a shitty friend lately, but I’ll make it up to them. Just not tonight.

  “What are you going to say?”

  “I don’t know. But if I see him, there’s zero chance I’ll do anything but jump into bed with him, enjoy every minute of it, and leave wishing I could stay. Wishing we could stay up all night talking. Wishing . . .”

  Karlene leans forward.

  “Wishing circumstances were different, and that he didn’t have so much to lose.”

  She doesn’t say a word, probably because she knows I’m right.

  I will not let Hayden make a mistake he’ll regret for the rest of his life. My future with Hayden is unclear, but if his father ends up forking in twenty-five percent of Angel, Inc., that will be forever. And having him around constantly, always questioning Hayden’s judgment, will be the w
orst thing that can happen to him. It’ll make him feel like the screwup he’s not.

  “Whatever you do, we support you,” Qasim says, giving my shoulder a squeeze from behind. “Even if you make a colossal mistake and kick that impossibly sexy rich boy to the curb.”

  I reach up and cover his hand with mine.

  “Thanks. I think I’m gonna need it, because I’m about to make that colossal mistake you mentioned. Unfortunately, it can’t be helped.”

  He pats my hand and comes around to sit back down with us.

  “If you say so.”

  33

  Hayden

  “Where are you?” I ask, pacing. Just like I’ve been doing for the last hour, waiting for her to call back. I’m pretty nerved up. I worked out in the gym downstairs, but it didn’t help. Nothing will, except figuring out what’s going on with Ada. Because I know her well enough to know that something’s up.

  “I just walked into my apartment,” she says. “Sorry about earlier.”

  “Ada, what’s going on? You know what, let me call you on video.”

  She hesitates, and my heart practically seizes up while I wait for her to decide. Finally, she says, “OK.”

  I hang up and call back. She answers right away, and I see she’s still in her work clothes, although she ditched the suit coat. Under different circumstances, I’d be taking off her peach camisole right about now. God, this is killing me.

  “Why aren’t you over here?”

  She sits cross-legged on her couch, a bright mural behind her, the colors swirling together as if framing her. I’ve never even been to Ada’s apartment, and I guess I probably won’t, because she’s about to break up with me.

  I’m not an idiot.

  Maybe I haven’t been in love before, but I have pissed off enough women in my life to sense what’s happening.

  “I don’t think I can do this, Hayden.”

  Boom. There it is.

  “Why?”

  It’s a good thing the phone is propped up on my kitchen counter, because my hands are shaking.

  “I’m not at your place tonight because I don’t trust myself. When we’re together . . .” She shrugs. “I forget myself. I forget everything but you.”

  Now I’m thoroughly confused.

  “And that’s a bad thing?”

  “In this case, yes.”

  “You’re doing this for me?” I guess.

  “You know what my dad said—”

  “And I respect that, Ada. I really do. But we knew what we were getting into when we decided to pursue this. Nothing has changed.”

  Except everything has. I really wanted to say this in person . . .

  “You don’t understand, Hayden. You’re on track for approval. On time.”

  You’re on track for approval.

  It’s what we’ve been hoping to hear for months. No, ever since we agreed to the terms of the loan.

  With FDA approval, Angel, Inc. is ready to fly.

  And then Ada really twists the knife.

  “I don’t even care about getting that promotion. There’ll be other opportunities. But you only have one shot at launching this thing, just you and Enzo. And of all the drugs I’ve seen come through my office, I’m confident this one will make a mark. It’ll save lives, like so many of the others we approve, but it will also change behavior. Bars, restaurants, drinking itself will never be the same. This is huge, Hayden. What you and Enzo are doing is remarkable.”

  My chest swells with pride. She’s never talked about Angel, Inc. before. With good reason.

  “And I refuse to mess this up for you.”

  I think of Enzo . . . and his approval.

  I think of my dad . . . and his meddling ways.

  I think of Ada in my arms, loving her. When it comes down to it, there’s no decision.

  “I love you, Ada.”

  Wow, it feels strange to say that. But I’ll be damned if I’m not going to lean into it with everything I’ve got.

  “I have never said those words to another woman before, but I’m saying them now because it’s true. I love you and will not wait two years to be with you. If you want to keep this on the down-low, fine. If you want to recuse yourself from our case and bring us out into the open, that’s fine too. Actually, more than fine. If we’re approved now or in five months, great.”

  If she looks shocked, then I haven’t done a good enough job of making her feel loved. But I aim to fix that.

  “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said about my parents. Even talked to my mom last night for almost an hour. Were they shitty parents? Yes. Am I jealous of Enzo and his big crazy Italian family? Of course. But you’re right. My parents do love me, in their own messed-up way. My dad didn’t have to loan us jack shit. But he did, and sure, he only did it under his terms, but he’s looking out for his interests too. Maybe I haven’t given him enough of a reason to trust my business instincts. As long as I have you by my side, I really don’t care if he’s involved in the business. Enzo retains his share no matter what. And I’m living proof—” I laugh bitterly, “—that money certainly doesn’t buy happiness. I don’t need more than a quarter share.”

  “Hayden . . .” She wipes away a tear.

  I don’t let her say no. “Let me come over there. Let’s talk about this in person.”

  “Hayden,” she repeats, “I can’t let you do this. You say it’s OK now, but what if it’s worse than you think? What if you’re miserable about it in a few years? Besides, we don’t have to stay apart forever. Once the post-approval period expires . . .”

  She didn’t say it back. She didn’t say she loves me, and I can tell she intends to go through with this. My throat, my lungs . . .

  “You said that could be up to two years,” I manage to say.

  “In some cases, yes. But probably more like fifteen months.”

  “No.” That’s the only answer I have for her. “No way.”

  “I understand if you don’t want to wait that long . . .”

  “Wait that long? I don’t want to wait a week. Or even a day. Did you hear me, Ada? I want to be with you.”

  No wonder there are so many songs about unrequited love and pain and misery. A broken heart feels worse than a broken nose. I would know.

  It sucks.

  “If that’s true,” she starts, but I interrupt.

  “It is, Ada. I promise it’s true, and you know I don’t break a promise. Except that once.” I try to smile, but it doesn’t work.

  “Then you’ll accept my terms.”

  “Anything.”

  “When you are no longer my sponsor, I’m yours.”

  I look at her through the small screen. Did she just say . . .

  “Ada . . .” I stop just short of begging. Ada doesn’t reveal her hand very often, but when she does, my lioness is fiercely determined.

  I don’t know what else to say. I laid it all out there, told her how I felt, and it didn’t do any good. I can see her mind is made up, which is why she didn’t want to come here. To tell me in person.

  “If those are your terms . . .” This can’t be happening. What if she finds someone else? Two years is a long fucking time. But I also know this is the woman for me, and I am not letting her go. “. . . then I accept them.”

  All four words feel like ash in my mouth.

  “Can we talk in the meantime? Text?”

  Can I come over there and cover your body with mine and show you how much I really do love you?

  “I don’t know, we’ll have to figure it out. But maybe consider what we talked about first.”

  I don’t need to think about it, but clearly she does.

  “OK,” I agree, even though the word nearly sticks in my throat. “I’ll think about it.”

  Maybe she’ll change her mind. Because, looking at her now, I don’t need her to say the words. There’s not a doubt in my mind.

  She loves me too.

  34

  Hayden

  “This
place is awesome,” says Devon, Enzo’s closest friend from home. He’s come to the city for the night.

  Unfortunately, it reminds me of Rooftop 40. Minus the pool. And minus Ada.

  Decorated in mostly royal blue and white, big-cushioned chairs make it look more like Miami than New York.

  I listen to Enzo and Devon through a fog. The same one that’s been hanging over my head for weeks.

  Ever since Ada dumped me.

  “Sorry to say it,” Devon comments, “but you look like shit.”

  I’ve hung out with him enough to call him a friend, so I don’t take offense. Or even disagree with him. It’s my first time out since Ada stopped talking to me, and I only came because Enzo inherited his mother’s ability to use Catholic guilt as a weapon, and he dragged my sorry ass here.

  Otherwise I’d be at home doing what I do best these days.

  Cursing and wallowing in self-pity because I somehow managed to bungle up the first truly great thing to ever happen to me besides Enzo and Angel, Inc.

  “Girl problems,” Enzo says, handing me another drink.

  I hadn’t even noticed mine was empty.

  Devon snorts. “If Hayden Tanner has girl problems, then the rest of us are royally fucked.”

  Leaning against the railing, I look out to a view that’s as familiar to me as the lake near my parents’ home in Connecticut. The French and Swiss Alps in Switzerland. All beautiful, all in some ways home for me.

  Devon’s right. I’ve lived a charmed life. But none of it means jack shit without Ada.

  Several women have been eyeing us at the high top we claimed at the edge of the bar, but I couldn’t care less about any of them. There’s only one woman I want to look at me like that, and she won’t return my calls or texts.

  “I’m sure you do just fine for yourself,” I say, nodding to a pretty blonde eyeing him up next to us.

  “She’s not bad,” he says without looking. Clearly he’s already noticed her. “But I’m tied down at the moment.”

  Enzo’s jaw drops. “Get the hell out of here! By who?”