Page 7 of Good For Me

I roll my eyes. From what I’ve seen since he started here, River Ransome doesn’t do relationships. His hook-up reputation, on the other hand, is pretty well established.

His smile is sheepish. “I know, I know, I set a super low bar.” He studies my face. “But the accountant must have treated you well, huh? For you to stay with him that long?”

I open my mouth to say of course, but the words get stuck. Did Kurt treat me well? All of a sudden, the only thing I can think about is how pissed he was when I got drunk with my best friend Brie and let her convince me to dye a purple streak in my hair a few days before his firm’s annual summer picnic. “What the hell are the partners going to think when I introduce you?” he’d asked me, red-faced and furious.

Then there was the time my favorite DJ was coming into town right before my birthday. He knew how badly I wanted to go to that concert—we talked about it. But then he bought tickets to some symphony instead because several of his clients were going to be there and he thought it would be a good opportunity to network. So I spent my birthday trying not to fall asleep during a Bach concerto or some shit.

That was last year. This year he promised to take me out to do whatever I wanted. But those plans were kind of shot to hell when I decided to surprise him with lunch and instead walked in on the most cliché affair ever. His secretary. God.

“He’s kind of an asshole, actually,” I mutter.

River nods, looking thoughtful. “Did you have a lot in common?” I fight and fail to stifle a snort, and a grin crosses River’s face. “Not so much?”

“Not at all.”

“Let me guess. The accountant spends his free time collecting stamps and playing polo?”

“Polo? Is that even a thing people do?”

He shrugs. “I was trying to think of the most uptight sport I could.”

I take a long pull of purple liquid. I’m not sure if it’s the liquor or the conversation but my chest is starting to feel warm, much of the earlier tightness dissipated. “He collected wine, not stamps. And it was golf.”

River makes a horrified face. “God, that might be even worse.”

“Golf isn’t that bad,” I argue. I’d gone with him a few times. It was kind of nice to walk around outside and the grounds at the fancy courses he frequented were always pretty. And I’d had plenty of time to admire them, considering he always had a client or colleague with him and they talked business pretty much constantly.

I sigh. “That was the real problem with Kurt. Everything was always all about work.” I scowl. “I mean, the real problem besides for the whole banging his secretary on his desk.” I slurp up another long pull of purple liquid. I think I’m getting drunk already. “On my fucking birthday,” I mutter.

River makes a choking sound. “It’s your birthday?”

“Yup.” I pop theploudly. Yeah, definitely getting sloshed. I should probably slow down. I take another slurp instead. “Happy fucking birthday to me, right?”

“Okay, this whole set-up just became unacceptable,” he announces. Before I can blink, he’s grabbed hold of the envelope of deposits and is tucking them away.

“Hey.” I grab for the bag but the unicorn drink makes me clumsy. “I need that.” He waves his hand dismissively, tucking the now zipped up pouch onto the seat beside him. Then he slides my laptop away and shuts the lid. “Hey!”

“You’re not working tonight.”

I scowl at him. “That’s not your call.”

He gives me that sexy River Ransome grin. “I’m making it my call.”

“You don’t get to just make it your call!”

He grins some more. “You’re really pretty when you’re blushing.”

“I’m not blushing!”

He waves his hand again. “Blushing, face reddening with anger, same difference.”

I can’t decide if I want to laugh at his ridiculousness or smack him. Before I can make up my mind, he leans across the table, grabbing my hands. I stare down at the place where our skin touches. Those weird zappy tingles are just from the alcohol, right?

“Jasmine.” I look up and immediately find myself trapped in his gaze. How are his eyes that blue? Right now, they’re looking at me like nothing else in the world matters besides this conversation.

“You can do the work tomorrow, okay? I’ll even help you. But it’s your birthday. That’s a big deal. And the abiding memory you have of turning twenty-three is not going to be some asshole cheating on you.”

I have to blink rapidly to keep the tears from filling my eyes. What is wrong with me? I never cry.Never. But something about the intensity in River’s gaze is really getting to me.