Marry Me for Money (11 page)

“Beth,” he said, as he stood from the bed, “let me remind you that you invited yourself to my little outing. I asked you before if you could handle it, and you said you could.”

He offered me his hand, and I gripped it for support while I hopped on one leg to put on my heel.

“When you refer to my type of people, you’re stereotyping. One, the only person I knew from that place last night was Luke. Two, everyone has casual sex—okay, everyone but you has casual sex. Three, I don’t do drugs,” he said as he released me. His eyebrows pulled in. “Plus, I knew you were with me, and I felt responsible for you.” He looked surprised by his own comment.

“Why?” I asked, pausing to assess him.

He laughed. “Now that I think about it, I could sort of tell you weren’t used to that environment. I’ve seen a lot of things happen, and I didn’t want anything to happen to you.” His eyebrows pulled together. “When I left you with Luke, I thought you’d be okay. I didn’t think he’d get you piss-ass drunk.”

I softened at his comment. “Oh.”

He straightened his shoulders. “Did I make you take any drugs last night?”

“Is this a trick question?” I asked, confused.

“Don’t overthink. Answer the question.”

My eyes were cautious as I wondered where this conversation was heading. “No,” I replied.

“Did I try to make a pass at you or coerce you into doing anything against your will?”

“Uh…no?” I said, lifting my eyebrows.

“Yes, that’s right. I told you specifically not to take drinks from anyone but me, and I remember a particular instance when I almost took someone’s arm off because he was being disrespectful. Also, I was very considerate when I let you spend the night. I even changed you out of your vomit-covered clothes before I left you to sleep in my guest room.”

I opened my mouth to speak but Kent raised one finger to indicate he was not done. “If that is not a definition of friendship, I don’t know what is.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Why what?”

“Why do you want to be friends?”

“What an odd question.” His eyebrows drew in. “I don’t know,” he said, studying my face. “Because you make me laugh, and I guess I like that you love to eat and don’t care.” He seemed finally satisfied by his own answer.

I thought of all he’d said, and the fact that he hadn’t tried anything on me when I was passed out had to count for something. I gave him a small smile. “Okay, fine. We’re friends who eat together.”

I made my way to the side mirror and the image of my hideous face stopped me dead in my tracks. My eyes were smeared with eyeliner. My cheeks were red from leftover blush. My lipstick went beyond my lips to the corners of my mouth and up toward my nose.

“Uh…okay, if we’re friends, you have to always tell me the truth. Why didn’t you tell me I look like death right now?”

“I always tell you the truth, Beth.” He walked behind me, so I could see both of our reflections in the mirror. “You look like death right now.” He framed my shoulders with his hands. “And smell like vomit.”

At that, we both laughed.

Looking at his reflection again, I thought to myself,
It’s not fair that he looks like a model in the morning, even while hungover.

The next week was restaurant week with Kent. There were over three hundred restaurants participating with prix fixe menus. It took forever and a half to decide together on where we wanted to go. We compromised by trying both of our top five picks. On multiple days, we went to lunch and dinner. I’m certain I gained over five pounds getting my eat on.

Before I knew it, the workweek was over, Friday night had come, and I was out at the bar with my coworkers. It was a different environment, seeing everyone out of the corporate element. Jim was by the bar, laughing like I’d never seen him laugh before. He was wearing jeans and a Northwestern alumni T-shirt, looking younger and more relaxed.

Sitting on a bar stool next to Caroline, I watched as she wrapped her arms around her tall, lanky boyfriend, Jeff. They couldn’t keep their hands off of each other, and I wondered if they remembered that I was right beside them.

I jumped when I felt a hand on the small of my back. When I turned, Brian was behind me with a beer in his other hand.

“Hey,” he said, leaning into me.

I moved from his touch, hoping Caroline hadn’t seen it.

“Brian, finally, you’re here. Beth over here has been waiting for you.” Caroline giggled before tilting her beer bottle all the way back.

I gave her my evil eye before taking a sip of my drink.

“Beth, I’m so kidding.” She hiccupped. “What number is this one?” she asked, turning to her boyfriend and lifting her bottle.

“Caroline, don’t you know? Beth doesn’t date coworkers, so there is no way she could have been waiting for me.” Brian gave me a wink, breaking the awkwardness.

I silently thanked him and awarded him with a small smile.

“I’m going to order the next round. What are you guys drinking?” he asked.

After we gave him our requests, Brian headed toward the bar, and I watched his broad shoulders move under his fitted T-shirt.

“Beth, look at all that hotness! If you only gave in a little…” She hiccupped. “Quit being so uptight, and live the life. Plus, you two would make the cutest couple.”

Before I had a chance to snap at her for teasing me one too many times, Jeff grabbed her beer bottle.

“You’re cut off,” he said before giving her a kiss on the lips.

“Aw, why?” she whined, trying to reach for the bottle. She slumped against his arms when he tipped her drink all the way back.

“Because you had too much to drink, that’s why, and when you have too much to drink, you have no filter.”

I lifted my beer bottle to tap against Jeff’s in thanks. “Yeah, you’re a mean drunk, Caroline.”

She looked me deep in the eyes with her sad Caroline pout, jutting out her lip. “I’m sorry, Beth. I was just telling you how it is.” Her arms draped around my neck, and the next minute, she started crying, confirming that she was officially drunk.

I wrapped my arms around her lower back. “It’s okay, Caroline. I forgive you. Plus, you’re my one and only girlfriend in Chicago, so I’m not left with much of a choice.” I said, patting her back and giving Jeff a small smirk.

When her sobs accelerated, Jeff gathered her from my arms. “Okay, babe, this is our cue to go home.”

I gave him a hug as he held her by the waist, and I watched them move toward Brian, who was surrounded by a bunch of bankers. Leaning against the bar, he was in conversation with the others, making them laugh. He was probably telling them some joke. I’d only seen Brian in the office, and he seemed very professional. I hadn’t been out on a customer call with him, but I’d heard customers loved him because he was easy to talk to, and he made everyone in a room feel at ease.

I watched Caroline tiptoe to give him a hug, and then Brian reached for Jeff’s hand to signal good-bye. When Brian’s eyes caught mine, I looked to my beer bottle and tipped it back. When I glanced back up, he was making his way toward me.

“So, you having fun?” he asked.

“Yeah. Everyone at the bank is pretty cool.” I took another swig of my beer.

“How many is that now?” he asked.

“I’m not sure—three or four maybe.” Suddenly feeling shy, I looked at the beer bottle in my hand.

“Just so you know, I hate when she teases you and me. It makes me uncomfortable. It’s not like I don’t think you’re cute. It’s because we work together,” I said, looking up into his clear baby-blue eyes. The way our eyes caught stir butterflies in my belly that I hadn’t felt in a long time.

He chuckled lightly and lifted a finger. “Waitress, another Corona, please,” he said, speaking over the noise. “You’re more honest when there is liquor in you. Let’s see how far this can go?” He squared his shoulders to face me directly. “So, Beth, what’s the worst that can happen if we start dating while we work together? Making out on the copier?” He gave me his boyish grin. “You think too much. Just live in the moment. Who knows? I could be your future husband, and you’re turning me away. How are we going to have our six kids in uptown Manhattan?”

I blushed at his comment. It really took all my power not to gravitate toward this perfect man in front of me. After all, I was only human, and he was the ideal male that I was sure everyone pictured in their storybooks. He was good-looking and hardworking, and he was able to provide for a family in the future.

“Uptown Manhattan?” I asked, breaking into my own thoughts.

“Yeah, I’m trying to get placed as a corporate banker there. I had a couple of leads, but that’s a tough position to score.”

The waitress approached with our beers, and I tipped mine back as he talked about New York and how he always wanted to live there but life had just landed him in Chicago. I asked him about his family to deter the questions from myself and because I was generally interested.

Both of his parents were working professionals. He had grown up in the Midwest with three sisters who had loved to dress him up as a child. His face lit up as he talked about them, and I laughed as he reminisced about his childhood.

My mind drifted to Kendy. I missed her so much that my heart ached. Talking to her every day hadn’t been enough. I missed the physical Kendy—the person I could tell my deepest darkest secrets to, the person who I didn’t have to pretend with, and the person who knew everything about me, including my past and what I wanted for my future.

As I guzzled my drink, I felt the cold beer move down the back of my throat. My body began to warm as my mind began to haze over. I didn’t know how long we had been sitting at our table, but when I glanced up, all of our coworkers were long gone. Listening to the bar music, I was sure I had a goofy, drunk smile all over my face. Brian was so animated when he was drunk that I laughed even louder.

A cheeky grin hit my face when the music changed to “SexyBack” by Justin Timberlake. It brought back memories from the good old days.

“Come on, let’s dance.” I grabbed Brian’s hand and pulled him toward the dance floor.

After tossing his beer back, he took my hand. “Just so you know, this white boy
can
dance,” he said, pointing to himself.

“Sure!” I yelled over the music. “And just so you know, this girl was on the pom team in high school,” I said, bobbing my head to the sounds.

His hands moved to my hips as we made our way to the dance floor. Turning to face him, I bounced slowly to the beat and nodded my head to the music. We both started swaying to the bass echoing through the bar. I felt tingling sensations where his hands met my body. Inching closer to me, he started to let loose. Brian could dance. I put my arms on his shoulders and shifted toward him, swaying my head from side to side as our bodies moved in unison to the music.

When he looked at me under hooded eyes and dropped his head, I held my breath. He brushed his lips against mine, soft as a whisper and just barely touching, as if his lips were asking for permission. I let his lips linger a little longer than what I should have allowed. I wanted to blame it on the alcohol, but every part of me wanted to kiss him back, especially with his hands all over me, causing my insides to heat up to immeasurable temperatures.

My no-business-and-boys rule rang in my head, and I slowly backed away.

Brian eyes peered down at me. “What?” A smile slowly crept across his face.

Before I crossed the line any further, I shook my head, pivoted, and headed toward the bar. “I need another drink,” I said, trying to calm my raging hormones.

He followed me and ordered us both drinks. We sat on the bar stools, silently watching the crowd moving to the beat of the music on the dance floor.

When I finished my drink, I stood. “It’s late. I think I should go.” I just needed to distance myself, especially with this much liquor in me. I couldn’t think straight, and I didn’t want the night to progress into something I would regret later.

“Hey, I’ll walk you home.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s only a couple of blocks. Plus, I have this,” I said, taking out my mace from my back pocket. “See?”

“That thing is not going to save you against a six-hundred-pound ogre. I’m taking you home.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the bar.

A little past one in the morning, we walked in silence back to my apartment. Downtown Chicago was vacant, except for a group of drunken partygoers lingering at a bar down the street. Our hands were linked together, and I knew I should pull away, but I didn’t. When we were in front of my apartment, I reached up to give him a hug. When I released him, he dropped his head and kissed me. This time, my self-control was shot. I let him do it—again.

His lips were soft and gentle. He tasted of hard liquor and beer. I was buzzed, but his mouth moving against mine awakened all my senses. My whole body leaned into him, wanting more, even though I shouldn’t because I was breaking my own rule. But it felt so good. I hadn’t been kissed in such a long time. Pushing through the haze of liquor, I painfully pulled away from him and took a deep breath.

I shook my head slowly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let you do that,” I said, my voice not very convincing. “Listen, Brian, we work together.”