I heard the pauses loud and clear. And then slumped. I’d known losing my job was a possibility, almost a certainty, but I’d possessed a small glimmer of hope that I’d pull it off. Hope dashed.
“Hey, sorry,” Brad said. Sensing I needed a moment, Lucas moved away. “Sorry. You have a social-insanity problem, and I have a socially awkward problem. Sometimes I don’t think before I blurt out whatever’s on my mind. I also have this horrible impulse to plan out every step of the future, and I just pushed that on you. Trying to come up with a plan for you. It’s a weird thing I do. Sorry.”
Brad’s big fingers touched my chin softly, nudging my face toward him. I met his sea-foam eyes, full of regret and concern. “I’m an ass. I apologize.”
I pulled my face out of his grasp. “No, it’s fine. I mean, I knew that was an eventuality, I just didn’t…you know.”
“It’s highly likely they’ll keep you regardless,” he said, shifting closer, trying to catch my eye. His knee bumped mine. “You are a valuable asset. Lucas was impressed with you. And he’s not impressed with many people. You’re smart and you know your stuff. Any company would want to push you up the ladder, not chuck you out. You’ll be fine.”
I waved away his concern. “Can we talk about something else?”
Brad regarded me for a moment, which I ascertained based on peripheral vision alone. I felt stupid. And awkward. I didn’t need a mostly stranger to dive this deep into my problems.
“How could he do it?” Brad asked softly.
“Who, Chris?” I asked in confusion. “He’s just doing what’s best for the—”
“No. I mean your ex. How could he hurt you and not fall all over himself to make it up to you? I feel like I’ve kicked a puppy.”
Emotion squelched out before that little rage problem rushed in to cover up my vulnerability. “Look, can you just back off?” I turned to him. My face was a few inches from his, and he’d get a head-butt if he didn’t increase the gap. Which I probably relayed through my crazy eyes, because he did back up. “I’m good. I’ll be good. You don’t need to get involved. Just move on, okay?”
His lips twitched, as if he wanted to smile but was preventing himself. “Yes, ma’am,” he said dutifully.
“Okay, then.” I huffed, my bad mood evaporating. “So get me a mai tai, why don’t you. I’m almost out.”
“Absolutely. Right away.”
I laughed as he turned for the makeshift bartender.
A couple hours later, as the sun was tucking itself behind the horizon—the light dimming after a blaze of color—the catamaran pushed up onto the beach. As requested, Brad had kept the rest of our conversations light and full of humor. And despite the fact that it was nominally a networking event, he had never once spoken to any of the other convention goers or my coworkers. He hung out by my side, and while we occasionally spoke with his friends, we were just as often on our own. No one approached him to network or talk shop. I wasn’t sure if it was because of me, or because he wasn’t relevant, but I was grateful.
Back on almost-dry land, I waited to the side as he disembarked, wondering what was in store for us. He seemed to be enjoying my company as much as I was enjoying his, but with men, you just never knew.
“Now what?” he asked as he stopped by my side.
That answered that.
“I don’t care. Nightcap?” I replied.
He checked his watch as his friends de-boarded. “It’s early. Let’s get some dinner.”
Food was probably wise. I was definitely buzzed.
He waved off his friends and then steered me up the beach. “Want to take a cab back?”
“Yes! Walking through water, barefoot, at night, does not sound appealing.”
“Only you could pull off sneakers and a skirt,” he said, helping me up the stairs even though he didn’t really need to. Judging from his swaying gait, he was just as buzzed as I was.
“It’s actually kind of a common look. That’s why I thought I could get away with it.”
“And you would’ve, if not for the water.”
“Yes,” I said in a dry voice.
With his arm around my waist, we strolled down a walkway that led into a fabulous lobby.
“Wow,” I said, taking it all in. “This is freaking awesome. I should’ve stayed here. You know, if I had the choice. And didn’t have to pay.”
“I’m actually staying here. The resort the convention is booked in isn’t great.”
“You’re staying here?” I gaped at him. “Then why were you in my resort last night?”
“Your resort?”
“You know what I mean.”
He smiled. “Looking for you. I wanted to see you again.”