Page 63 of Just for the Plot

“Fine,” I capitulate. “I might have had a bad night, but that’s because it’s Bower’s first time going out with Cougar and I’m struggling with the thought of it, so yeah, I’m struggling—”

The door to the coffee shop opens and as if saying her name enough beckons her, Bower walks in.

“Holy shit,” I whisper, wanting to duck under a table, praying to the fucking gods above that Cougar doesn’t walk in behind her.

“What?” Gretchen asks, looking over to the side.

“That’s her. Bower is here.”

An evil smirk spreads over Gretchen’s lips just before she lifts her hand and calls out, “Bower.”

“What the fuck—” I start to whisper as Bower turns toward us, a crease in her brow before she recognizes me.

“Bennett.” Her face lights up. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh…”

“Late-night planning session,” Gretchen says with a smile and then lends out her hand. “Hi, I’m Gretchen. I’m in charge of Bennett’s PR right now.”

“Oh, the whole zoo thing. It’s nice to meet you.” She glances at me and smiles. “Well, I’ll let you get back to what you’re talking about. It’s late and I don’t want to hold you up.”

“No, please join us,” Gretchen says, making my cheeks burn, because what the hell is she doing? “We could use some help, actually, and since you know Bennett so well, you could be of use.”

“Are you sure?” Bower looks between the two of us.

“Positive,” Gretchen says.

“Okay, sure. I’m just going to grab a drink really quick.”

“I can get it for you,” I say, going to stand, but she places her hand on my chest and stops me.

“I got it. Thank you, though.” With a wink, she heads over to the counter and my eyes trail after her, watching the way her hips sway against the fabric of her dress, how it clings to her torso and flares out at her waist.

Did he touch her?

Kiss her?

Slip his hand under the hem of her dress?

Did he tell her he’d call her later? Set up another date?

If she’s alone right now, does that mean they didn’t get along?

Fuck, I don’t want to get my hopes up.

“If you stare at her any longer, she might disappear into thin air,” Gretchen says, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I turn back toward her and whisper, “What the fuck is your plan, Gretchen?”

“Well, now that I’ve seen the transparent longing in your eyes, I’m going to attempt to end the agony and just tell her how you feel.”

“What?” I say, my fucking balls shriveling at the suggestion. “No, you can’t. Gretchen, it would…it would ruin everything. She’s…she’s my sister’s—”

“I’m kidding, Bennett. I wouldn’t do that.”

My breath catches in my lungs from the panic she just put me through. “How do I know that’s the truth?”

“Because it seems like the thought of her finding out about your feelings might actually give you a heart attack, and although it would tickle me to see a love connection unfold in front of my eyes, the job comes first, and giving one of my clients a heart attack doesn’t necessarily scream ‘good press.’”