winded when I see him head towards me. This has to stop, me feeling like this. I rub the back of my neck, trying not to look at him too much, as if he’s the only man on the planet.
“Hey, stranger.” I attempt a weak, gentle punch into his arm. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“It’s better that I’m here.”
There he goes, being all cryptic again. I wonder if he’s with the FBI or CIA, and I’m tempted to tease him but then I remember about his girlfriend. “How’s your friend Emma?”
The friend emphasis isn’t needed, and now I wish I’d said girlfriend so that he could deny it or allow it, and that would tell me.
“She opened her eyes today.”
“Oh, that’s great. That’s really good news.” This makes me happy. I don’t know her, but I sure am glad that she is at least opening her eyes. From what Brad said of her injuries, I was beginning to worry.
“I know. I know. The doctor says it’s too early to tell, but it looks good.”
“I’m really happy to hear that. You must be relieved.”
“I am. I just miss her being around—” He stops, blinks, and hesitates as if he isn’t sure what he’s going to say.
I swallow my hurt and clench every muscle in my body so that I can keep it together. I can’t trace the time when it happened, when Brad Hartley stopped annoying me and started stealing into my thoughts, but knowing that he is unavailable is wrong. I can’t think those thoughts anymore.
It’s been so long since I was with someone, and being single has made my hormones go weird whenever Brad is around. I’m sure it would be the same around anyone ‘eligible’, as Simona would say. I’m not a mess of emotions because of Brad. I’d be the same if it were any other young, good-looking, flirty guy. I just haven’t been around people like that for a while and it’s wreaking havoc with my thoughts. Not just my ovaries.
I make sure that I stay away from Brad for the rest of the evening. I need to go back to how I used to be before.
Redhill is my focus. The expansion of the company, the new site. The roof. My insides sink as I remember the cost of fixing the roof. I have so many things to think about and I don’t need to get wrapped up in this added melodrama.
I’m really pleased for Brad that his girlfriend is okay, but I have to learn to push away.
Chapter Twenty-Six
BRANDON
The slate gray matte walls of the restaurant are flecked with dots of gold, and yellow glass lamps hang low over the tables, their sultry dimmed lights eavesdropping on secrets of the rich and famous. The clientele and ambiance in this, one of the city’s newest restaurants, drip with riches. Jessica made this reservation.
“I have an invitation to city hall to meet with Elias Cardoza,” Jessica announces as our food arrives.
“You? Why did you get an invitation?”
“Yes, me. Why do you sound so shocked?”
I’m shocked because Jessica is as far removed from Cardoza and the world of boxing as any two identities could be. It’s almost as ridiculous as someone like me helping out on Kyra’s food nights. “I don’t see the connection. Why would someone like Elias Cardoza reach out to you?”
“I’ve donated to some causes dear to his heart.” She picks at her salad.
“What causes?”
She waves her fingers, as if she’s trying to remember. “Some ... some children’s charities, I think.”
“You think? You don’t know?”
“I picked what he was associated with. Things like that aren’t hard to find with celebrities. You can look up these things online. I’ve even donated to that Kyra Lewis’ place. I see Elias is a big donor to that.” Jessica picks up the napkin with her perfectly manicured nails, sharp as talons and her almost dark purple nail polish. “You’re just jealous because you didn’t get an invite.”
“The people at Redhill did.” Fredrich mentioned it to me. Kyra didn’t.
“I’m not surprised. Causes like that are very dear to the boxer’s heart, I hear.” She picks at her salad.
“But you run an art gallery. You’re not interested in those causes.”
With a flourish of her hand, she jabs a forefinger at me. “Neither are you, Brandon. Not really. Not for the right reasons.” Her wily smile reveals her perfect teeth. She has no soul. No empathy. “You and I care nothing for those people or those causes, but at least