“That.” He motioned with his head toward the building we’d just left. “Better he doesn’t know until after it’s all said and done. Luis owes me a favor, and he’s a good guy, but—you know—the idea of money does funny things to people.”
It certainly does.
His arm was still at my back, his hand at my waist. My hand had somehow moved to his waist as well, though I didn’t remember that happening. Everything about the last twenty-four hours had been surreal, including this moment. I was tucked snugly against him, and it was strange walking with Dan. Like we knew each other well. Like we regularly spent time in each other’s company.
I couldn’t decide what to ask. I had so many questions, I couldn’t settle on one. Obviously, I needed a moment to sort through my own frantic thoughts before I trusted myself to maintain my composure. So we walked in silence for several blocks while my mind went in circles.
Finally, after much internal debate, I decided to ask the most obvious and benign question first, “Where are we going?”
“To get lunch.”
Lunch.
I’d planned to ask him out to lunch today so we could talk. But discovering Dan knew who I was—and had known for an indeterminate number of months—made me want to stress-eat all the cheese in Chicago. And the muffins. And not talk.
I was officially off-kilter. Again.
Given my history trying to form words around this guy while I was any shade of distressed, I knew avoidance was my best option. In my present state of mind, there was no way I could sit across a table from him for an unspecified period of time and not say something completely stupid. Like, I don’t know, share unnecessary details about my sketchy past. For example, I might admit, while reviewing my list of misdeeds, that I’d never been intimate with a man while sober. Or something equally horrifying and embarrassing.
It wasn’t just me being off-kilter that was a problem. And Dan being Dan wasn’t a problem. It was me being off-kilter plus Dan being Dan that equaled the problem.
Allow me to provide an analogy in chemical poetry form:
Potassium is just fine.
And water is completely benign.
But introduce K to H2O, and shit explodes in real time.
We live in a serious world, and we should never mock other people for their struggles. But making jokes about your own struggles is a coping mechanism, and a damn good one. So, yes, every once in a while I like to poke fun at myself.
That said, maybe today wasn’t the best day to have lunch with Dan.
But there is one more thing I need to know.
I sucked in a deep breath, bracing myself. “How long have you known?”
Dan leaned away a little, looking down at me, his expression inscrutable. “For a while.”
For a while.
For some reason, that answer made my stomach drop. Pressing my lips together, I dipped my chin to my chest and let my hair fall forward so I could think about the ramifications of Dan having known for a while.
Had he known in Vegas?
“Hey.” He stopped us, pushing my hair out of the way and slipping a finger under my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes. They looked concerned. “It’s no big deal.”
“Oh? Really?” I laughed, knowing I sounded bitter. Better bitter than hysterical.
He didn’t respond, opting to examine me instead. His gaze turned probing, intensely interested, yet also intensely warm and . . . kind.
The kindness made my lungs feel like they were burning. Kindness felt too close to pity. Unable to bear his scrutiny—or kindness—I took a half step back and gave him my profile.
“I need to get back to work. I can’t have lunch today.” I felt his eyes on me, which made it even more difficult to concentrate.
After a few seconds of this, I sensed Dan move, drawing my halting attention back to him. He’d taken his cell out, selected a contact, and was now holding the phone to his ear.
“Hey. It’s me. Send a car for Kat. She,”—his eyes cut to mine, sharp yet aloof—“needs to get back to work.”
Chapter Five
Trustee: An individual or corporation named by a person, who sets aside property to be used for the benefit of another person (e.g. children of person), to manage the property as provided by the terms of the document that created the arrangement.
—Wex Legal Dictionary
**Kat**
I didn’t power on my phone for the rest of the day, which meant I didn’t call Eugene back. I needed distance from chaos and demands, time and space to get back on-kilter. So I lost myself in spreadsheets, conference planning, travel booking, and updating meeting minutes.
I decided I would power on my phone—to check for messages from my therapist and to call Eugene—once I was home, in my pajamas, and under my covers. Sometimes, a girl needed the solace of her safe place to prepare for battle.