She's Got Dibs (11 page)

“You know, you don’t exactly corner the market on heartbreak, Rex.”

She slowly straightened, lifting her brows.

“Divorced, remember?”

Oh, yeah…
Empathy unfurled in her chest and she nodded.

“Her name was Margaret, and once upon a time I really loved her.” He sized up the remains of his scotch, lowered the glass to his thigh. “My mother introduced us while I was at school and strongly suggested I propose. My father, on the other hand, insisted. A marriage to Margaret’s family consummated a business deal between two powerful investment firms.

“Unfortunately, her love was tied to a trust fund—which she gained access to the night of our wedding—along with the junior executive who managed the funds.”

He sighed and shook his head, and the ice surrounding Tessa’s heart cracked at his obvious distress.

“It wasn’t until two years later I discovered the affair, and at the time I was angry with everyone. Margaret for her deception, myself for not realizing her intentions sooner…my parents for allowing the marriage to happen when they should’ve had my best interests at heart.”

Of course. This was the family rift he spoke of the night they met. And knowing what his parents had put him through, she couldn’t fault his decision to place distance between them. Not one bit. The remaining ice encasing her heart melted and puddled at her feet. “I’m so sorry, Dibs.”

He shrugged, as if resigned to past hurts. “My point is, just because someone doesn’t give you what you deserve, that doesn’t mean you should automatically settle for less.”

“I know.” She waved away his comment. “Believe me, this isn’t the first time I’m hearing the old ‘what the hell are you doing’ speech. It’s just…I’m kinda going through a thing.”

He chuckled, shaking an ice cube into his mouth.

Tessa swirled the vodka in her glass, images of the day she and Dibs met streaming through her mind like some idyllic made-for-TV movie. He’d been totally sweet to her that night, and in return she’d acted like an all-consuming bitch.

The poor guy. Hands down, he deserved a big, fat apology, but she didn’t even know where to start. The thought of having a long, involved discussion about how screwed up her life had become ever since her fiancé dumped her made her skin crawl.

She peeked at Dibs from the corner of her eye. He seemed deep in thought, chewing his ice. She inhaled and swung her attention back to the window. In the long run, it didn’t matter. After this flight she would probably never see him—

“Okay, you’re right.”

She swiveled in the seat, guardedly waiting for him to continue.

“I may have come on a little strong. Sorry. I guess I got wrapped up in the whole thing there. I apologize.” A polite smile tipping his lips, he inclined his head.

If not for the close quarters, she would’ve had to scrape her chin off the floor.
He
was apologizing to
her
? Was he serious?
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for. I should have called you back and explained. I just didn’t know what to say. This whole thing was my fault.
I’m
sorry.”

He dipped his chin, granting her forgiveness.

“Well, that, plus I thought you were a total whack job,” she added.

He whipped his head around. She lifted an eyebrow. Mirth dallied like a ray of sunshine along his lips, and then they shared a quiet laugh.

“Forty million flowers, huh?” he asked.

“Yeah, well, I tend to exaggerate.”

“Good to know.”

She resettled in her seat, smiling, but before long an uneasy pressure gathered and radiated outward from her chest.
What was his name?
echoed in her mind. She shifted uncomfortably, uncrossing and re-crossing her legs. Dibs had figured it out. And all this time she thought she was so damn coy. God, what an idiot.

And meanwhile here he sat, sharing his heartbreak over his ex-wife, following that up with a sincere apology. The right thing would be to explain. After all, his only request had been to see her again. Was that really so bad?

She closed her eyes. “His name was Michael.” She drained the last of her vodka.

“I knew a Michael once.” Dibs popped a chunk of ice into his mouth. “Hated him.”

She snorted. “Me, too.” She paused to collect her thoughts, but there was no easy way to say what came next. “He left me at the altar.”

He stopped crunching. His gaze shifted across the upright tray tables to hers.

“Well, not literally at the altar. The day before. At least he had the decency to save me that humiliation. And ever since, I don’t know, I guess I haven’t had it in me to go through it again.” She smiled ruefully. “So when I said ‘it’s me, not you’—as
pathetic
as that sounds—I was being serious.”

Dibs’s eyes softened around the edges.

She squeezed his arm and relaxed in the companionable quiet between them, pink clouds floating past her window amid the radiant translucent beams of the setting sun.

“So, here’s an idea,” he finally said.

She locked onto the headrest in front of her. “Okay, why do those words strike fear into my heart?”

“Now just hear me out.”

She held a breath and waited.

“Let’s be friends.” He put his palm up, eyebrows elevated.

A high speed train racing out of control screamed across the backdrop of her brain. “Friends,” she repeated.

“I thought you said you liked me.”

“You have your moments.”

“Well, I like you, too. So when two people like each other, aren’t they usually friends?”

She frowned. “I guess…”

“Well, okay then.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, I’m not sure that’s going to work.”

“Why not?”

“We-e-elll…” Twirling her hand, she glanced around the cabin. “In case you’ve forgotten, we’ve already had sex. Twice, if you’re counting.”

“And?”

“Don’t you think that might make the whole friends thing a bit uncomfortable?”

“How so?”

“Men are so strange.” She dropped her forehead into her palm.

He twisted his shoulders in the seat. “Look, if we make what happened at the hotel an issue, then you’re right, it’ll be an issue. But if we choose to move past it and be friends, I don’t see why that won’t work as well.”

“Wait a second.” She squinted, wagging a finger at him. “I’m getting the sneaking suspicion you might be suggesting this to try and fly in under the radar.”

He peered at her from under his brows. “I think I can resist you.”

“Oh, really.”

“Yes. Besides, I’m perfectly happy being in the friend zone.”

Oh, come on. He had to be yanking her chain. “You mean like real friends.”

“Yes.”

“Like, you can call me to come over because you’re having some sort of a crisis, friends.”

He tipped his head back and forth, the corners of his lips turned down. “Yes.”

“And I have to bring pizza and chocolate-chip cookie dough ice cream, friends.”

“Or in my case, scotch.” He raised his glass.

“Hmmm…” She considered his idea a moment. Certainly worse things could happen than having a nice guy like Dibs watch her back. “I guess that sounds okay.”

He slid away from her across the seat. “You guess that sounds okay? Am I really that awful?”

She laughed. “It actually sounds nice, Dibs, really.”

“Great, because I could use a good friend.”

She slowly nodded. “I guess I could, too.”

“Well, that settles it then.” He reclined against the headrest and folded his hands over his stomach. “Friends it is.”

The engines continued their monotonous hum while she hit rewind and replayed their conversation, accompanied by flashes of their night in the hotel. Never again would she view a piece of chocolate cake in the same light.

She pursed her lips. “So…that’ll be weird.”

“What?”

“When someone asks ‘how’d you two meet.’ ”

He grimaced. “We might have to come up with something different there.”

“Or we could just say we met at LaGuardia and leave it at that.”

“Leave out all the gory details, huh?”

“Gory details?”

Their eyes locked a moment before their laughter mingled. And in that moment, initiating a friendship with Dibs seemed like the nicest idea she’d been presented in a very long time.

A smile still curving his lips, his eyelids fluttered closed as he dropped his head to the seat. A few seconds later, Tessa retrieved her briefcase and paged through the client proposal, making notes on the off-chance any of the big-wigs called over the weekend with additional questions.

“What are you doing?”

She lifted her chin to find him studying her. “Just going over this presentation from earlier today.”

“Did you have another meeting in New York?”

“Yep.” She jotted a quick reminder in the margin.

“How’d it go?”

“Great, actually. We’re supposed to hear back on Monday.”

“Oh, good.” He paused. “Who’d you say the client was again?”

“I didn’t. BFG Investments.”

A glimmer of something…recognition, maybe…flitted through his gaze. “Really? That’s my father’s company—Brenner Financial Group Investments.”

She flinched in her seat. Wait a second…That information seemed a little too far-fetched to be mere coincidence. And then she remembered the unease in his eyes when they’d been at the bar and she’d mentioned the pitch. Now his reaction made sense, especially given the current tension in his family. “And your role at the company is?”

He huffed. “None. But I’d be happy to put in a good word.”

His suggestion was wrong on so many levels, she didn’t even know where to start. Not the least of which would be risking TNT’s reputation within a family dynamic that already teetered precariously off balance. She returned to her notes. “Don’t you dare.”

“Why not?”

Using the tip of her pen to hold her spot on the page, she shelved all further discussions on the topic with a hard stare. “If you say one word to anyone, we’re going to have another fight. And it’ll be huge.”

A small smile tipped his lips. “Want to succeed on your own and all that?”

“Exactly.” She skimmed the rest of the paragraph and flipped the page, and with the subject of Dibs’s interference firmly put to rest, soon became immersed in work.

Sometime later, the plane tilted downward. The captain’s voice murmured through the cabin, instructing the flight attendants to begin their landing preparations.

“Have you eaten today?” Dibs asked.

“I had a muffin this morning.” She gathered her materials and slipped them back into her briefcase.

“After we land, let’s get some dinner.”

She hesitated. But wasn’t that what friends did? Share some pleasant conversation and a nice meal? She smiled. “Why thank you, Dibs. That would be lovely.”

Chapter Six

Dawn arrived with a wink and a smile, the playful scent of spring urging Tessa out of bed early to greet the sun. The two days away from the office had her on disconnect, and she was anxious to go through her desk, make sure nothing had fallen through the cracks. Dressed in khakis and her favorite black sweater set, she opted to walk the five city blocks to her office so she could bask in the brilliant spring air and cheerful skip of her heart.

She had pleasantly surprised herself, agreeing to a friendship with Dibs. But considering what a gentleman he had been at dinner, his easy smile and charming wit making the conversation pass quickly, having her very own friend seemed like a nice right idea—especially since they’d agreed to forego any romantic entanglements. Dibs was smart, and he made her laugh. She couldn’t ask for two better qualities in someone she planned to spend time with.

At the end of the block, she stopped and frowned into the street. Wait…what? How the heck had she passed right by her office building? She pivoted on her heel and headed back toward the front door.

After exiting the elevator on the seventeenth floor, she was startled to find the office lights on and the door unlocked.

“What are you doing here on a Saturday?” She entered Tiffany’s office and sat in a chair opposite her desk.

“You didn’t call last night.” Tiffany dropped her pen and stretched, hands linked, palms aimed at the ceiling.

“I know, sorry. Dibs took me to dinner and I didn’t get home until late.”

The chair creaked as she sprang forward, shaking her head. “What did you say?”

Tessa laughed, and then proceeded to fill in the details regarding her return flight to Chicago, finishing with how she and Dibs had spent the evening together at dinner. “It was nice. He kept the conversation going so I never got uncomfortable, and I don’t know—it was pleasant, you know?” She unbuttoned her long-sleeved sweater and tossed it to the arm of the chair.

“Pleasant,” Tiffany said, deadpan.

“Something about him just puts me at ease. I’m glad we decided to be friends. I think it might work out nicely for both of us.”

“Friends.” She studied Tessa across the desk. Curiosity crumpled her brow. “What was it like when he dropped you off at your condo?”

“We exchanged business cards, and then he said ‘I’ll call you later’ and I got out of the car.”

Tiffany’s hair billowed to the sides when she slapped a hand to her forehead. “Tessa, you’re the only woman I know who could have earth-shattering sex with a gorgeous millionaire and then decide to be just his friend.”

She bit her lip. “Weird?”

“I guess that depends on the medications you’re taking.”

She squinted. “You know, that joke wasn’t funny the first time.” She stood and headed for the doorway. “Want to go over the checklist this morning? Only two weeks before Miss Sandburg becomes Mrs. Miller.”

“Sure.”

“Poor thing,” Tessa mumbled, crossing through reception.

Noon arrived by the time they’d gone over all the details, and though Tiffany extended an invitation to tag along on her lunch date with Kevin, Tessa declined. She still hadn’t organized her desk, and starting the Sandburg invoice while the expenses were still fresh in her mind would make the task that much easier.