Running the Numbers (14 page)

She had his attention. She took another deep breath and prepared to embarrass herself. “I do this weird thing where I attract men who appear totally normal, but later I discover these life-altering, unbearable flaws. Like drug addictions. One guy I dated for weeks before I realized he lived in his van. Another pretended to have a job but was banging some girl instead. It hasn’t happened once or twice, but
every damn time.
” She smacked the bar with her fist with each word. “Without fail. Any man I happen to find attractive, I can safely assume has some freakish problem. Wes was supposed to have been the exception.”

Blake took another sip of beer, this time with more gusto. “You and Wes were together. I thought he just had a little thing for you.”

“If that idiot has anything, it’s an agenda.” She gulped her beer and wiped her mouth. Since she wasn’t flirting with Blake anymore, she didn’t need to concern herself with things like manners. “I got him hired on as a junior accountant for Avery & Thorp, and after that we fell apart. The story that goes around, and the one we intentionally perpetrate, is that he used me to get the job. I believe it, to an extent. But the real story, no one knows. Not even Kennedy or Nina, for all their gossip and gum-flapping.”

Blake put a hand over hers, surprising her into looking into his face and realizing how close together they were. Close enough for her to know he hadn’t shaved that morning. “You don’t have to tell me.”

She snorted. “Didn’t you have an affair for, like, five years? I trust you can keep a secret.”

He pulled his hand away.

Well, it was true, wasn’t it? Still, the fingertips of guilt traced her skin.

“I’m about to tell you my dirty little secret, so don’t ask me to tiptoe around yours. I was pregnant. I lost the baby shortly before Wes took the job at the firm. Right away, the stress became something else entirely. There’s a lot of guilt when you miscarry. Some doctor’s think it’s some kind of survivor’s guilt.” She shrugged. It never made much sense to her, no matter what the therapist at the clinic had said. “I couldn’t get away from Wes to grieve on my own. We lived together at the time. Then we were working together. I started to pull away. I just needed time, I think, to sort it out in my head. I definitely never intended to lose Wes over it. But then he got weird.” She let out a dry laugh. “Because he had to, didn’t he? That’s how it works.”

“Weird how?” Blake’s eyebrows were drawn in concern, and one hand covered his mouth in a considering gesture.

Sadie slowly rolled her beer glass between her flattened palms. “Possessive. The more I needed space, the more he tried to cram in next to me. It got pretty bad for a while. He oversaw my e-mails and listened in on confidential office phone calls with clients. I always had to be able to account for my whereabouts. I quit jogging because he questioned the hour I was gone. I guess he thought there had to be a reason I’d pull away from him. And then, I swear, it’s awful to say this and I’ve never admitted it to anyone, but I feel like he suspected I’d done it on purpose. The miscarriage. He never accused me of it, nothing like that. But I think maybe he saw me pulling away from him and assumed I hadn’t wanted to have his kid. Anyway, I snapped one day. Couldn’t take it anymore. I ended it, moved out, and did my best to explain to Wes what had gone wrong.”

Blake nodded and studied his beer, like looking at her just then would be difficult. “That’s why he keeps trying to get back with you?”

“I doubt it. I think he has some guilt issues, and he’s looking for redemption and forgiveness. Not love. And possibly a leg up. At the end of the day, Wes is every bit as ambitious as I am.”

“Oh. Well, I guess dating the chief accountant is the next best thing to
being
the chief accountant.”

She gave Blake one of the tiny plates, took one for herself, and heaped the three biggest wings onto her plate. “Anyway, the point is, I’m backing off. I didn’t exactly mean to flirt. I wasn’t deliberately trying to make anything happen between us yesterday. But it’d be nice, you know? I mean, not us behind Amanda’s back. That’s not what I…I mean, one day. One sunny day, I’m going to meet a nice guy like you, who’s actually a nice guy. I won’t always be deceived by a charming personality and dashing good looks. One of these days, I’m bound to peel back that wrapper and find exactly what the packaging advertised.”

A dark cloud flitted across Blake’s features. “I’m an adulterer. How can you call me a nice guy? I’m exactly like all the other jerks and losers on your list.”

“You
were,
” she corrected him. “Last night, you bolted from an innocent situation because you’re so determined to be a better man than you were. You’d do anything, even railroad a perfectly normal friendship, for the sake of avoiding past mistakes.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Innocent? You have a crush on me.”

Sadie propped her chin on her hand. “It’s all about intent, Blakey. Like the difference between first-degree murder and manslaughter. I like you, and I can’t make myself stop. But I have no intention of sabotaging your relationship with Amanda. Not ever.”

He gave her a worried glance over the rim of his glass as he sipped the foamy beer. “Yeah, well, the road to Hell. I’ll let you take it from there.”

Blake wistfully recalled Christmas Day.

Seth had made an appearance. Little Maddie had learned how to say uncle. He was Uncle Bake now but couldn’t help being a little sad about it. She’d loved the stuffed fox he bought her. He didn’t quite have the nerve to call it Eric in front of Quinn, so he’d let Maddie name him. She’d gone with Bear, which they all had a good laugh over.

December had come and gone like a breath, the way time seemed to when there was a lot going on. Reversely, January refused to end. It brought along dismal, gray weather that made Blake long for the cheery white snow of last month, and frigid temperatures. He knew it was bad when the locals proclaimed it too cold to snow. Ice collected on street corners and sidewalks, frozen lumps that wouldn’t thaw until early March, according to the lore.

“Are you listening to me?” Amanda’s sharp inquiry zapped through Blake’s brain fog.

He startled. “I’m sorry. I feel a little spacey today. Must be getting a head cold.”

She swiped a carrot stick through a small cup of dressing. “Reba’s habit of spreading stories has increased to a troublesome degree. She’s become quite close with Nina. I’m not sure why she hasn’t been let go. Nina, that is. As Duncan’s secretary, she’s in a particularly delicate place, with access to sensitive information. It shouldn’t be in the hands of someone so keen on gossip.”

Stay firm.
Blake refused to engage. Not again. Lesson learned.

Amanda ate the carrot slowly, like it might try to bite back. Her gaze hovered on a spot beyond Blake’s shoulder. “Kennedy is as much a problem. She’s always at the center of the drama and doesn’t have the sense to know it doesn’t help her professional prospects. She isn’t stupid. She must possesses marginal intelligence in order to be an effective secretary. I questioned it when Henry was still here, but I assume you’d have petitioned Duncan for a replacement had you found Kennedy unsatisfactory or slow-witted.”

Blake bit into a wing and prayed for patience.

The transition of Amanda’s wardrobe had coincided with some less flattering changes in her personality. The more she dressed like herself, the more her identity bubbled up to the surface, taking over her carefully fashioned attitude. She was wary and afraid of alienating her coworkers, while simultaneously wishing to keep her distance. She seemed to have lost the concern as far as Blake went. At least in his company, she spoke her mind freely these days.

Unfortunately, the more she shared, the less Blake liked what she had to say.

Her opinion of Kennedy especially hit a nerve. He felt protective of his secretary. Once she’d finally given up seducing him, she’d become a valued ally and friend. She was better at her job than Amanda would ever realize.

“She’s very consumed with office gossip,” Amanda continued in her blasé tone. “She tries very hard to engage Pearl and Opal, but luckily, my team is focused on their tasks.”

Do not engage.
Blake wouldn’t be baited into another argument.

Last month, perhaps a week before the Christmas holidays, he’d suggested Opal could stand to be friendlier and more open to Kennedy’s attempts to be a part of their group. After all, her desk was stuck in the bookkeeping parlor with the rest of them. Rather than earning Kennedy a friendlier atmosphere at work, he’d merited Amanda’s cold shoulder.

The coldest cold shoulder he’d ever had turned his way.

At her angriest, Quinn had always kept an avenue of communication open. Whether because she felt communication was essential in any relationship, even that with an ex-husband, or because Seth compelled her to keep cordial with Blake, she had always answered his call.

Amanda had shut down so completely, Blake hadn’t even been able to wish her a Merry Christmas before his flight to L.A. She reminded him less of Quinn all the time, as the edges of her true personality began to fill in the blank spaces.

She blinked at him across the table. She stared and said nothing, which was how she said everything—with lengthy, considering silence.

By now, he’d also learned a fair bit of harsh judgment lived inside those speechless moments. The only person who seemed to have any esteem in Amanda’s eyes, outside of her own bookkeeping team, was Sadie.

Just thinking her name had him back in his own headspace.
A nice guy like you.

He puzzled over the words constantly. How could Sadie think of him as a nice guy after everything he’d told her? The affair with Kira, the ill-advised marriage to Quinn’s sister, his absence from Seth’s childhood. The list went on. She must’ve suffered some real crappy relationships if a guy with Blake’s résumé seemed like a good bet.

As for her supposed crush, she’d stuck to her proclamation and been on strictly friendly terms with him since their non-date. At the same time, her attraction perplexed him. It ignited a tiny spark of pride. Not because three women in the office had expressed interest—female interest wasn’t hard to come by when you were a blond guy with nice eyes and a gorgeous bank account.

Rather, because Sadie’s interest was worth something. She was like a beloved queen among their coworkers. People liked her. She laughed at their jokes but wouldn’t hesitate to say when it was stupid—usually she had laughed anyway. She answered questions for Catalina, kept a fiery toe-to-toe waltz going with Wes, their every greeting punctured by some kind of outburst, and mended her fences with Kennedy, all while excelling at her job and staying on her usual friendly terms with Duncan, whom she lunched with regularly.

The friendship with her boss was a genuine thing, not a hunt for favor. Invited along once, Blake had been pleased and impressed by the way Sadie seemed to turn it off when she was clocked out. She asked questions about Zoey’s pregnancy, what they might name the baby, and how much Duncan was looking forward to life in a big city.

Not a word about the promotion, or Wes.

For a woman like Sadie to like
him
... Well, it did things for the old ego.

Blake polished off his wing and recalled the order he’d shared with her the night of the silent auction. She’d attacked them without consideration for her lipstick or her hair, strands of which ended up coated in hot sauce, in turn smearing across her cheek when she tucked her hair back. He grinned at the memory of her wiping it off with the back of her hand and going in for another wing.

“What’re you thinking about over there?” Amanda’s tentative smile and bright eyes were the hallmark signs of a woman who expected his answer to have her name stamped on it.

You, darling. But what else could bring such a wistful grin to my face?

Guilt danced in his chest. Eating out with his girlfriend, and all he could think of was another woman. His appetite fled, but he kept his smile in place for Amanda’s sake as he pushed his plate away and reached for a napkin. “I was wondering if you were a chocolate or vanilla kind of woman. Valentine’s Day is next month.”

Liar, liar.
Quinn’s voice again.
Begin with lies. They’re the bedrock of every lasting union. The solid foundation on which love is painstakingly built.

Love? Blake didn’t know about love. Seemed sort of advanced for his skill level.

Amanda’s face blossomed into her full smile, which was, Blake readily admitted, quite beautiful. She traced a circle around his wrist with a delicate nail painted a shade darker than her pale flesh. “I like fruit. With vanilla, but only if it’s fresh.”

A part of him needed her to say chocolate, the darker and more sinful the better. Another part of him also needed her to respect Kennedy as a peer and watch something besides romantic comedies and spaghetti westerns on Netflix. Yet another part of him needed her to be okay with letting him order pizza, just once, and utter an imprecise, imperfect sentence every now and again.

Bizarrely, there were times Blake wouldn’t have minded a moment in Kira’s presence—a saucy statement, an unpredictable explosion of emotion he never quite knew what to do with, but exhilarated him all the same. Or maybe it was Sadie he thought of—

Amanda’s exactly what I asked for. I’m getting what I wanted.

He’d gotten what he’d wanted before, though. It wasn’t going after his desires he struggled with—it was desiring the right things. If he craved chocolate, why had he asked for vanilla?

He smiled back at Amanda, giving it his best effort. “I may have to surprise you.”

* * * *

Sadie pointed to the middle of the white space on the map, smack in the center of Jackson Lake, white because the map depicted it during the winter months when a majority of it iced over. “That’s the spot. Never fails.”

Nina and Kennedy squinted at the map, being polite. They couldn’t possibly care.

Wes shrugged. “I don’t think it’s worth the trouble. I’d rather wait till spring.”