The silence on the phone was telling. Parker had been her only friend at law school. She talked to other people, went to coffee with other people, and joined study groups, but he was the only person she actually let into her life on more than a superficial level. “I’m sorry. Don’t be mad at me.” Her voice wavered and she cringed. She hated this.
He exhaled loudly into the phone. “Regan, I’m not mad. I’m worried. Do you hear what you’re saying? You’re dating your boss. Do you understand the risks you’re taking with your career? With your future? Have you thought about that?”
“We’ll be careful,” she said, worrying her lower lip.
He scoffed. “Careful would be not dating him, but in the end it isn’t my business.”
“You may be right,” she said feeling a little defeated and unsure.
“I knew he was interested in you that night at the bar, but you were harder to read. He clearly made you nervous and uncomfortable, and I thought maybe he had been pressuring you or acting inappropriately.”
“No, it wasn’t like that,” she said quickly.
“So that whole story of not liking him because of what he did to your friend in college…”
“Not true.”
“Yeah. I didn’t think so, but I didn’t want to pressure you. I figured you had your reasons and you’d tell me eventually.”
“I feel really bad about this. I should have said something to you right away, but I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, and to be honest, I really didn’t know what I wanted.”
“He really did a number on you, didn’t he?”
Regan hesitated. “Who?”
“Your boss.” He said, making a point by not saying Lucas’s name. “He’s the reason you don’t date, and now you’re giving him another chance.”
A direct hit. Her heart lurched in her chest. “I don’t want to talk about it. It’s in the past.”
“Okay. I’ll leave it alone, but Regan…”
“Yes,” she said impatiently, wanting to get off the phone. She didn’t want Parker or anyone else prying into her past.
“I’ll be here for you when he hurts you again, because despite what you believe right now, he hasn’t changed. Men don’t change. A beautiful, smart woman walked into his office a month ago, one that he once held in the palm of his hand, and he saw a challenge, but guys like him don’t stay around for long.”
That’s exactly what she was afraid of, but she’d bite off her tongue before she shared that with anyone, especially Parker. “You don’t know him.”
“You’re right, I don’t, but I do know that he hurt you once, and I’m pretty sure he’ll do it again.”
“What do you want me to say?” she asked, chewing the end of her pen, ready for this conversation to end. How did Parker manage to dredge up every one of her fears?
“Nothing. There’s nothing to say. I’ll see you on Thursday, okay?”
“Okay.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Regan left the office at five the next day to get ready for dinner with Lucas. He’d told her she looked nice in her work clothes, but she wanted to look better than normal, not that she looked bad at work. She wanted to look feminine, soft, not all buttoned up and hard in another one of her suits.
Dressed in a wispy emerald colored chiffon dress with a breezy cutout that stretched the length of her back, and gold strappy heels, she styled her hair until soft curls framed her face. As a result of the high humidity, she decided to forego redoing her makeup. Instead, she touched up her mascara and put on some clear lip-gloss. She liked the way she looked, and she hoped Lucas enjoyed it too because it was for him.
The doorbell rang as she slid her wallet into her gold handbag. When she opened the door, Lucas stood on her front step with a bouquet of purple Irises. He handed it to her as he kissed her cheek.
“You didn’t have to bring me anything,” she said, smiling as she twirled the deep purple bouquet in her hand.
“I wanted to. An Iris means hope, and I thought it fit what I’m feeling about us.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets as he looked around her small one bedroom apartment.
“How did you know that?” she asked, walking to the kitchen.
“I asked the florist,” he said, smiling.
“Ahh, and I thought you were an amateur botanist,” she commented, standing on her tiptoes trying to reach a vase in one of her upper cabinets.
“Let me do that,” he said, putting his hand on her lower back, his fingers grazing her bare skin. She shivered. Would it always be like this?