Chapter 27

It’s not a date, I texted Lily as I put on the finishing touches of my makeup. We’re just going to dinner.

It’s so a date.

I rolled my eyes and let the comment slide as I applied some pale pink lip gloss. Barnett had agreed to meet me at my apartment at seven o’clock, and it was already five minutes ‘til. He could arrive any second.

But something still bugged me.

Oh God, I thought. Is he going to recognize me from Soul M8s? Did he see me in the Aston Martin at the bar last night?

My stomach started to tear at itself. He didn’t seem to recognize me this morning when he came to my door, but he had all these hours to start putting everything together.

What if he had discovered the truth since then? Would he still want to have dinner with me? Would he be furious that I had stood him up?

I had no time to worry about that. It was almost seven o’clock.

I slipped my lip gloss into my purse and checked off everything that I needed in my head. Keys, credit and debit cards, phone, pepper spray (just in case), lip gloss…everything seemed to be in order. I was shoving my feet into the same shoes as the night before just as someone knocked on the door.

“Be right there!” I called as I scurried to the door.

When I opened it, on the other side stood an immaculate Barnett. Well, he was always immaculate, but something about him that night made him practically glow. Perhaps it was the simplicity of his black three-piece suit or the smugness with which he watched me drink him in, but something about what he wore or how he carried himself had my throat dry and my underwear wet.

“Well, I’d say that we both look stunning tonight,” he said, his expression as serious and unreadable as stone.

My cheeks flushed. At least he noticed the effort I had put into my appearance.

I wore a black over-the-shoulder dress the flowed just above my knees and cinched at my waist, accenting my breasts and new physique. My hair had been pulled up into a messy bun, just messy enough to look purposeful. For my makeup, I had experimented with a new shimmering foundation and sparkling gray eyeshadow.

Nothing too overstated. Just enough to make me stand out while not being too wild for the steak restaurant I was taking Barnett to. Based on his comment, I got the results I was looking for.

I cleared my throat and replied, “Yes, I’d say so, as well.”

“Well, shall we get going, then?” He crooked his arm out to me.

Of course, all business. I couldn’t blame him, though. I was the one who had said that I didn’t want to waste his time.

I took his proffered arm, and together we walked down to the parking lot. We were silent, but it was a comfortable silence, like sitting at home watching TV with a good friend. It felt right.

At his gold Aston Martin, I noticed Barnett trying to direct me to the passenger’s side. I shook my head and steered him towards the driver’s side instead. I smirked to myself at my cheekiness.

After all, if he’s going to insist that I drive—and keep—his car, then that should mean all the time, right? Even when he’s the passenger?

Barnett cocked a brow at me but then swung the driver’s door open for me in one fluid movement.

“After you, mademoiselle.”

• * *

“So, he actually wore the orange suit?” Barnett asked before taking a bite from his steak au poivre.

“Yup, and he denied looking like a sickly tangerine.”

“It saved your job, though.”

I stared down at my filet mignon. “Yeah. I really thought I was going to be fired for that.”

“For one mistake?”

“Arthur can be—”

“Eccentric?”

“To put it mildly. Still, he counts on me, so I suppose that guarantees some level of job security.”

I watched as Barnett dug his knife hard into the meat, sawing at it as though there were no tomorrow. The muscles in his neck tightened ever so slightly, and I thought I could see his jaw clench.

“Your talent is what is guaranteeing you job security, Anna. Not Arthur’s…attachment to you.”

Barnett put so much venom behind the word “attachment” that I almost missed the compliment…almost.

“You think I’m talented?”

“Of course you are. Why else would you have gotten the job? And just look at how well you did yourself up just to have dinner with me.”

“This isn’t just having dinner with you, Barnett. It’s my way of thanking you for…well…everything. For the divorce lawyer, for standing up to me in front of Bob and my landlord, for the apartment, for the car…the list goes on.”

“You don’t have to thank me for anything.”

I could tell he was dead serious. It warmed my heart that he would do all that and not expect anything—even a “thank you”—in return.

“Still, you deserve it. This is the least that I can do. I just wish that I could have taken you somewhere even nicer, but until the money from the divorce settlement actually comes—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Barnett said firmly. I knew then that it was the end of that discussion.

He had been so nice to me all night. Could it be that he truly did not know that I was the one from Soul M8s? Or that maybe he really wasn’t HockeyDude12?

“Your fitness vlogs seem to be doing very well,” he said, interrupting my thoughts.

“Yeah. I’ve noticed you liking and re-blogging them a lot.”

“They’re good videos. You have a lot of good tips on there.”

“Thank you.” I hesitated. “Do you go on social media a lot?”

He shook his head and swallowed another mouthful.

“No. There are a lot of trolls on there just trying to ruin people’s day. I try to avoid it.”

Inwardly, I let out a sigh of relief. Maybe he wasn’t HockeyDude12, after all. At least, he probably didn’t pay enough attention to our messages to realize it was me.

My heart sank a little at that thought. I had felt a real connection with HockeyDude12. The idea that maybe he didn’t pay as much attention to our messages, enough to recognize me, kind of stung.

Then there was Barnett, sitting right in front of me. Twelve years older than me, and yet I had never felt more comfortable with a man in my entire life. Even his seriousness and his arrogance couldn’t throw me off.

This wasn’t the same Barnett who had coached me in hockey all those years ago. No, there was something different about him.

“Hold still. You have a little something right here.”

Barnett leaned forward and gently dabbed his napkin at the corner of my lip. He stared into my eyes, and shivers ran down my spine, straight to my groin. It took all my willpower to suppress a moan from escaping me.

Yes, there was definitely something different about him now. I at least had an iota of control around him as a teenager.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, he sat back in his seat, but his eyes never left mine.

I licked my lips, and it had nothing to do with the filet mignon I was eating.

“You know, I always thought you had the most beautiful eyes,” he admitted.

I smiled softly. “Really?”

He nodded. “A man could get lost in them.”

Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.

I was, undeniably, falling in love with Barnett Cogsworth.