Last Call Read online

  “I thought you and your mom had a spa day yesterday?”

  Karlene takes a sip of her coffee. “We did. And I’m in a terrific mood.” She gives me a pointed look. “Unlike you. Care to tell me what happened?”

  No point in denying it.

  “I have a meeting in ten.”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “What? I do.”

  “So make it quick.”

  It’s embarrassing to admit how little willpower I exhibited this weekend.

  “So, remember how I said I wouldn’t text Hayden until Monday?”

  Her jaw drops.

  “You didn’t . . .”

  I wish I hadn’t.

  “I did. And we went back and forth a bit.”

  I look at a framed photo of my family on my desk, feeling even worse about my impulsive decision to go to lunch with Hayden yesterday. I can’t imagine what my parents would say about such a rash, impulsive act. I thought about calling my sister last night but decided against it. She lives a block away from our parents, which sometimes divides her loyalties a bit more than I would like. And the last thing I need is for anyone else to know about this particular conundrum.

  “It gets worse,” Karlene comments, correctly. “I can tell.”

  I’m sure I look as sheepish as I feel.

  “He kind of was in the neighborhood and . . .” Just spit it out, Ada. “We met up for lunch?”

  Karlene’s eyes widen. “Excuse me?”

  “Yep. At L’aile.” I forge ahead. “A nearly three-hour lunch.”

  “Oh boy.”

  “But you’ll be happy to know we cleared it all up last night.”

  “Oh good,” she says, sarcasm dripping from her tone. “How so?”

  I’m not sure what I felt worse about last night. Hayden’s decision to put distance between us or the fact that I wasn’t the one to suggest it first.

  “We . . . he . . . acknowledged it was a bad idea. So no more of that.”

  Karlene’s only response is to take another sip of coffee.

  “Well?” I press. “I have to meet with the pharmacology team in a few minutes.”

  Karlene finally clears her throat and lowers her ginormous mug. “I’m not sure what you want me to say.”

  “It’s a good thing, right? That we’re putting the kibosh on it.”

  I’m aware I’m fishing, but I had a shitty night and right now I need an ally.

  “No more illicit lunches that could get you in trouble? Yeah, sure. It’s great.”

  I sigh. Loudly. “OK, then tell me what you think. For real.”

  “The truth?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Karlene looks back, I guess to make sure no one is about to burst into my office with a well-meaning whiteboard.

  “The truth is you’re probably losing sleep for nothing. You might be attracted to the guy, but you don’t seem to like him much. You said he’s arrogant . . . or was it entitled, I can’t remember. I have to say he’s not your typical type anyway.”

  I mean, that’s not entirely true. I’ve just been trying hard lately to avoid the “bad boy” types. They might be great initially, but who wants an actual relationship with someone like that? Been there, done that. I’m going on thirty, not twenty. I’ll take kind and stable over dangerous and edgy any day.

  But . . .

  There’s more beneath the surface of Hayden Tanner than he shows the world. He may have strolled into my meeting late, as if he didn’t have a care in the world, but that’s clearly not true. The way he talked about his business partner, and his nanny, paints him as the kind of man who cares deeply . . . for people who care about him.

  “OK, let’s just pretend he is my type.”

  Karlene’s eyes widen, but she gestures for me to go on.

  “And since we’re pretending, let’s say he’s not only wildly handsome and rich but also a diamond in the rough capable of deep affection for people other than himself . . .”

  Karlene is trying to keep from laughing now, but she manages to say, “Then I still think this is for the best.”

  Obviously she’s right.

  “Is that not what you were fishing for?” she asks, cocking her head.

  I smile for the first time all day. “Leave it to you to call me out.”

  “I should have seen this coming the night of the bachelorette party.”

  “What?” The indignity. “I totally shot him down that night.”

  “Ha!” She says it so sharply my head snaps up.

  “Sorry. I mean, ha,” she amends, her voice just slightly less forceful. “Pu-leeze. I could see the pheromones oozing from your body.”

  I close my laptop and stick it in its case.

  “Anyway”—Karlene stands—“this is for the best. You can just keep him at a distance, communicate by email . . .” She freezes. “Oh. My. God. Ada-berry . . .”

  Why I told her about my youngest sister’s nickname for me, I’ll never know.

  “The site visit,” she says, her eyes wide. “It’s this weekend, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” I say sullenly. Then I make a quick escape, tucking my computer under my arm and grabbing a pen on my way out. I can still hear Karlene’s laughter following me out of my office. Frankly, I don’t think it’s all that funny. Two full days with Hayden at his facility.

  Site visits can be an inconvenience, but I was actually looking forward to this one. It’s only an hour away from one of my favorite small towns, Skaneateles, a place my family used to go for vacations growing up. I booked a night at a gorgeous resort for the Saturday after the site visit, and I was looking forward to some downtime after weeks of playing catch-up on this case.

  Now, I’m dreading the site visit. Two days of being with him.

  It won’t be easy, but I’m determined to get through it. After the visit, we can simply communicate through email, like Karlene suggested. There’s really no need for any in-person meetings. I can put Hayden Tanner out of my mind and concentrate on more important things.

  My promotion.

  Going home soon, seeing my family.

  I just need to get through one little weekend.

  16

  Hayden

  Thankfully, Henry is already outside waiting for me. It’s raining hard. I’m already halfway to the car before he attempts to get out. Opening the door with one hand and navigating my umbrella closed with the other, I hear the privacy screen lowering.

  “Sir?”

  “Hayden.”

  “Sir,” Henry corrects, ignoring me. “I could have opened the door.”

  Taking off my rain-splattered suit coat, I toss it on the seat.

  “I’m well aware,” I say, my tone as flat as my stare, as Henry peers back through the rearview mirror. “You are a stubborn goat.”

  “I could say the exact same about you.”

  Gliding out of his parking spot, Henry begins to navigate us back toward the city, away from Secaucus.

  “How’s traffic?”

  “Light,” he says with a final look as the screen raises. If he wants to be insulted that I saved him from getting soaked, so be it.

  I take out my phone, flick through it, and then toss that onto the seat too. Exhausted, I rest my head back and close my eyes. I really must be getting old. Not long ago, I could stay out virtually seven nights a week, no problem. I had a few beers last night with a buddy and a spot of day drinking on Sunday, and I’m wiped.

  Enzo, of course, is still in the lab. The guy lives there when he’s not in the office. Me? I’m up to speed enough to talk to the review team this weekend during the visit.

  With Ada.

  Sorry. Doctor Flemming.

  She was only Ada the other day. And thanks to me, she’s back to being our RPM and nothing more. Go Hayden.

  Doing the right thing sucks big-time.

  I considered telling Enzo about our lunch and my totally responsible texting, but he’s already worried about the site visit. I don’t want t
o make it worse. And yeah, I’ve been staring at my phone a bit harder than usual for the last two days, but I am waiting for Dr. Flemming to get in touch to arrange a meeting time for Thursday morning.

  The fact that I’ve been anxiously awaiting a calendar invite couldn’t possibly be more pathetic.

  At least my father seems appeased for the moment. He was thrilled to hear about my trip to the lab today, even more to learn that I’m going on a “long-overdue visit” (his words) to the plant this weekend. Every time we talk I’m reminded of what it would be like to have him as a partner in Angel, Inc.

  Shuddering, I open my eyes, surprised to see we’re already through the tunnel.

  Rain, which has apparently followed us after having stopped for a bit, starts again. Just a few drops at first. But by the time we pull onto my street, it’s raining harder than it was in Jersey.

  I press a button to lower the divide.

  “Drop me at Corner Deli.”

  By the time we pull up to the curb, I’m questioning that decision. Home is just half a block away, but I’ll be drenched by the time I get there. Still, we’re here, and while I could call for takeout, I’d basically be paying someone else to get soaked for me.

  Putting up my umbrella, I wave to Henry and walk quickly under the awning, which is crowded with others attempting to get out of the rain. Unsurprisingly, the place is packed. By the time I make it to the counter, Tony is so busy he doesn’t even notice me. I order a salad, mixing it up a bit today, and pay for it, standing to the side.

  A woman not far from me, also waiting, catches my attention. There’s something vaguely familiar about her. A runner, obviously caught in the rain, her long blond hair pulled into a now-drenched ponytail.

  She turns toward me.

  No fucking way.

  When our eyes meet, every rational thing I’ve told myself these past few days flies out the window. I’m reminded of an old friend of mine from school, the son of an Italian politician, who used to say, “Senza tentazioni, senza onore.” Roughly translated, it means there’s no glory where there’s no temptation. Although I think the point is that you’re supposed to avoid giving in to the temptation.

  Ada doesn’t move, and neither do I. Until her name is called. As she makes her way to the counter, I find my feet stepping forward of their own accord.

  “Hey,” she says when we’re just a few feet apart.

  She’s soaked. And has never looked hotter than she does right now. To my consternation, it doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that her dripping teal tank top is clinging to her chest or the fact that her tight black running shorts leave little to the imagination. Well, I’m no saint, but it’s not only that. I like that this is Ada in her pure form—dressed up for no one but herself.

  “Did you get lost?” I ask. Fact is, this isn’t her neighborhood.

  She thanks Tony, who hands her a white wrapped package. He looks between Ada and me, and I try to silently communicate this is her without making it obvious.

  “Kind of,” she says, but doesn’t elaborate.

  “Hayden.” Tony catches my attention. I grab my salad from him, and he gives me a slight nod, confirming he caught my message. The slight face he pulls indicates he thinks I’m in trouble, but I already know.

  Ada and I make our way toward the front of the shop by silent agreement. Which is when she elaborates on her answer.

  “I made a bit of a—” she looks me in the eye, and I can’t tell whether she’s embarrassed, “—detour on the way home.”

  Detour. On my street. That can’t be a coincidence. She knows where I live—I told her as much on Sunday.

  “I see.”

  It’s pouring as heavily as ever.

  “You know they have this thing called a weather app.”

  She looks tempted to stick out her tongue at me.

  “I was hoping to get my run in ahead of the storm.”

  We both look outside as more people crowd under the awning.

  “So you ducked in here when it started?”

  “Yep.”

  I contemplate my inevitable response,. With every fiber of my being, I try not to let the words escape my mouth. But they do. Of course they do.

  “You can’t go home in this. I’d send for my driver, but he’s probably halfway home by now. Why don’t you come with me? Dry off and eat your dinner. My place is less than a block away.”

  She’s about to refuse, and I should let her.

  But I wasn’t lying to her. I really am the emperor of bad decisions.

  “It makes no sense for you to wait in here for God knows how long. I promise it’s a totally innocent offer.”

  And to my surprise, I mean it.

  “Come on,” I say, heading out through the door. I leave it to her whether she wants to follow me out. By the time I reach the edge of the crowd and get my umbrella up, I feel her behind me.

  Handing her the umbrella, I walk out into the rain. She shrieks, on my behalf, and runs toward me.

  “We can share it at least.”

  We’re standing basically on top of each other as I raise the umbrella a bit higher to accommodate me. I’d insist she take it completely, but damned if I’m giving up this opportunity to be close to her. Unfortunately, my apartment is in front of us way too soon.

  “Mr. Tanner.”

  I hand the umbrella to Bobby, thanking him for having given it to me in the first place, and step into the foyer.

  “Hayden,” she says, stopping with me. “I’m not sure about this.”

  The last thing I want is for her to feel uncomfortable.

  “Listen, Ada, I’m not either. Obviously it’s a bad idea. But I swear I will not come near you.” The words nearly get stuck in my mouth. “And I won’t say a word about it to anyone. As long as you promise not to mention to anyone on our team that I may have asked for your number the first time we met.”

  She smiles. “And dinner. You asked me out to dinner too.”

  “And that.”

  After a short pause, she starts toward the elevator as if she lives in the place. I love that about her. Unsure one second, like a pit bull the next.

  “You hit on me before you even knew my name,” she reminds me as I punch the button.

  “In my defense, like I told you at the time, I knew enough.”

  The elevator door opens and we step inside.

  “You were so arrogant.”

  We stand on opposite sides, but even so, this elevator has never felt as small as it does right now. Blood pounds through my veins as I imagine us coming together despite all of the reasons we shouldn’t.

  “I am arrogant,” I say, making her laugh.

  “There’s more to you than that.”

  I make a sound deep in my throat as we reach my floor. Not a moment too soon. It’s harder being in a small, intimate space with her than I’d thought it would be. And the fact that she sees me, really sees me, makes it worse.

  “Maybe.”

  By the time I turn the key, gesturing for Ada to step inside, I’m rethinking this decision. But the door’s open, and she’s already walking through it. My better judgment kicks in too late.

  “Oh wow, this is incredible.”

  The entire apartment would fit in my parents’ living room in the Upper East Side. But I like it, because it’s mine.

  “I could fit my whole apartment in your living room,” she says.

  The timing of her remark is so spot on it almost makes me laugh, but I tone it down to a grin as I put my stuff on the kitchen counter.

  “What? Why are you smiling?”

  I don’t tell her what I was just thinking.

  “Nothing. How about I grab you some clothes to wear?” She’s already shaking her head, but she’s quite literally soaked through. It can’t be comfortable. “No arguments. You look like you took a shower with your clothes on.”

  I head into the bedroom, yelling back for her to make herself at home.

  Which is whe
n it hits me.

  For the second time in my life, I’m trying to do the right thing, but the universe seems to be laughing in my face. The most desirable woman I’ve ever promised myself not to hit on is in my apartment.

  17

  Ada

  This can’t be happening.

  I’m sitting in the biggest kitchen I’ve ever seen in Manhattan, listening to a thunderstorm rage outside. Across from Hayden Turner. To top it off, I’m wearing his shorts and T-shirt, and they smell like him.

  “How was it?”

  I wrap up the uneaten portion of my sandwich.

  “Really good. You’re lucky to have them right on your block.”

  “I know. I eat there at least twice a week.”

  He’s been giving me these little looks ever since we first made eye contact in the deli, asking without asking, so I finally admit it, just to get the elephant out of the room.

  “I was curious,” I say, the steady sound of rain coming from a partially open window nearby lulling me into what I’m sure is a false sense of security. “So I may have run a few blocks out of my way.”

  Up until now, we’ve avoided any topic that could be construed as even remotely suggestive. It’s probably a mistake to be so open with him, but I don’t want him to think I’m some crazy stalker who’s been hanging out in his neighborhood on the regular.

  “What were you curious about?”

  You.

  “Your neighborhood.”

  He looks rightfully dubious.

  And hot. Smokin’ hot. After giving me the clothes I’m wearing now, Hayden went into his bedroom and changed. Even in casual clothes, he always looks impeccable, like he belongs on the cover of GQ magazine. But now, in shorts and a tank, he’s so much more approachable. Regular.

  Well, kind of.

  I’m pretty sure he’s caught me staring at his broad, muscular shoulders a half dozen times.

  “My neighborhood. Hmm.”

  Yep, I should have left the elephant alone or nudged it into a corner of the room.

  “I honestly didn’t expect the sky to open up,” I offer.

  “Speaking of opening up, you said something at lunch I’ve been wondering about.” He trails off, looking into my eyes as he finishes. “Something about being lucky to be on the job. I presume you mean at the FDA?”