Collide (8 page)

Gavin’s jaw tensed almost imperceptibly. “I really have no desire at all to talk about this,” he said, his voice holding a warning.

“Fair enough. Are you coming to dinner tonight at Mom and Dad’s?”

Shrugging into his suit jacket, the barest suggestion of a smile played on his lips. “Yes, I’ll be there—with the exception that you and my wonderful sister-in-law are not hiding a secret date for me under the table.”

Colton dug his keys from his pocket, gave an impish smirk, and walked out of the office.

By the time Gavin left, it was gridlock in Manhattan. Sighing, he rubbed a palm over his face as he gripped the steering wheel of his black BMW. While waiting for a herd of pedestrians to cross the street, he realized he was at the corner beside the restaurant where Emily worked. The blood drained from his face at the sight of her opening the door to leave. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he contemplated pulling over to say hello, but as soon as the idea entered his mind, a horn cut through his thoughts. Flipping the bird to the impatient driver, Gavin slid into first gear and navigated his way through traffic. He averted his eyes to the rearview mirror, trying to catch one last glimpse of her. It was then that his father’s far-fetched story about love at first sight slammed into his mind.

“She’s out there, son, and when you find her, you’ll know it the very second you see her. She’ll pull at your every instinct. Without any regard to the natural order of things, she’ll just…appear.”

“This is utterly fucking hilarious,” he laughed, tapping his finger on the steering wheel. “I’ve got to be out of my mind thinking about this girl.”

With so many conflicting emotions, over the next hour, Gavin thought about his beliefs carefully. As Manhattan’s skyline disappeared from view and the sprawling trees that layered upstate replaced it, he swore to himself that he would try to rid Emily from his mind—though he wasn’t quite sure if that was possible.

Applying the last bit of mascara to her lashes, Emily tore her attention away from the mirror. The slamming door signaled Olivia’s arrival home from work.

She hurried into the living room. “I’ve been calling and texting you all day,” Emily let out breathlessly, slipping on a pair of red heels. “Why didn’t you call me back?”

Olivia tossed her purse on the couch. “I left the damn thing here.” She walked into the kitchen and yanked it from the counter. Looking over to Emily, she beamed a smile. “You’re looking hot. What’s the special occasion?”

“Mine and Dillon’s nine-month anniversary. He’ll be here soon,” Emily hastily replied, walking over to her. “You were sleeping when I got home last night. You have no idea who I met.”

“Yeah, I was wondering why you were gone when I returned.” Olivia stabbed her passcode into her phone. “Okay, let me guess. Uh, Brad Pitt?”

“I’m being serious, Liv. You’ll never guess, so don’t even try.”

“No! I want one more shot.” Olivia paused. “Hmm, President Obama?”

“This is going nowhere real fast.” Emily laughed and sank into a seat at the table. “I met the one and only…wait for it…wait for it…Gavin Blake.”

“Totally hot, right?” Olivia asked, bringing her phone up to her ear.

Emily smiled. “Yes, completely.”

“Now admit my description of the walking god was on point, since, if I recall correctly,” Olivia tapped her finger on her chin, “when I gave you the prior mentioned walking-gods description, you begged to differ that any man could be that delicious looking.”

“Yes, you pretty much hit the nail on the head,” Emily laughed. “But I’m more than sure you want to hear the details of our
prior
meetings.”

Olivia quickly slid her phone shut. “Prior?” She crossed the room in two strides and lounged into a seat. “You have my attention. Spill it!”

Leaning her elbows on the table, Emily tented her fingers under her chin. “Let me see…oh, yes…he’s the man I had the encounter with at the Chrysler Building while delivering the food that one day.”

Olivia’s brown eyes widened, but she remained silent, unwavering shock oozing from her face.

Emily dropped her tone huskily. “Yes, and he’s the little stalker who came to my job, leaving me his name and number—oh, and a pretty decent tip, too.”

“Shut the front door, woman! Mr. Tall, Dark, and Fuckable Handsome is Gavin?” Olivia squealed.

Emily nodded and laughed.

“Are you messing with me, Em? Cause if so, that’s seriously fucked up.”

Leaning back in her chair, Emily crossed her arms, a smirk tipping her lips. “I swear.”

“You should just go out with him,” Olivia shrugged. “Obviously, he’s made an impression on you, and you’ve made one on him.”

Her words, so seemingly casual, threw Emily off. “What do you mean?”

“You have this dopey, dreamy look on your face. I know you’re imagining jumping his bones.”

“You’re joking, right?”

Olivia rose to her feet and made her way to her bedroom. “Are you asking if I’m joking about the dopey look on your face, going out with him, or jumping his bones?”

“Olivia, you know what I’m talking about.”

“You’re acting surprised that I would say any of those things, Em.”

Shocked, Emily swiftly followed behind her. She leaned against Olivia’s door and placed her hands on her hips. “Are you really serious about what you just said?”

Olivia peeled off her clothes, strolled to the bathroom, and stepped into the shower. “It’s no secret how I feel about Douchebag.”

“Ah, that’s right. Because how
you
feel about my boyfriend is what matters here,” Emily interposed sardonically as she walked into the bathroom.

“Why not give Gavin a try?” Olivia asked coolly.

Emily ticked the reasons off on her fingers. “One, I love Dillon. Two, I love Dillon. And three, guess what? I love Dillon.”

Olivia mocked Tina Turner in her finest sultry singing voice. “What’s love got to do with it?” She laughed.

“You’ve completely lost it, Liv. And, even if I weren’t with Dillon, you’ve killed the ever-wanting-to-entertain-Gavin-Blake opinion from my mind.”

Olivia poked her head out from behind the shower curtain. “How did I kill your opinion of him?”

“Let me see…he’s a ladies’ man is the first thing that enters my memory.” Drawing in a deep breath, Emily paused in thought. “Oh, and you don’t think he’s capable of staying with any woman longer than a week is another. Shall I go on?”

Olivia shut the water off and stepped out of the shower. Emily handed her a towel. “Right, that was
after
his fiancée, Gina, broke up with him when he started acting like that. Before the infamous split, he was a total package.” Olivia wrapped the towel around her body.

“He was engaged?”

“Yeppers,” Olivia piped back, sliding into a pair of black shorts and a white tank top. “They dated for almost five years, then one day he came home, and she was gone. Packed her shit and moved out of his apartment while he was at work.”

Confusion creased Emily’s brows. “Why?”

“To tell you the truth, he never told my brother exactly what happened. And when I’ve asked him about it, he doesn’t want to discuss it, so I have no idea,” she replied, pulling her makeup bag out of the drawer. “But you saw him. That man’s been blessed by the proverbial fucking-hot-as-sin gene. He’s worth millions and—really, I’m not kidding—he’s a decent guy.”

“So why have you never dated him then?”

“Oh, Lord, I’ve known him way too long. Let’s just say it would be like me banging my brother.” Olivia crinkled her nose in distaste. “Even though I have the utmost respect for the glorious gene pool that fine piece of fuckable ass has been bathed in, I sort of look at him like an older brother. It’d be way too weird.”

“How long has he been friends with Trevor?”

“You sure have a ton of questions for a girl who’s not considering playing naughty,” Olivia quipped.

Emily dismissively waved her hand as she turned to the mirror to study her reflection. “I’m trying to get in the loop here. Dillon tells me nothing about his friends or coworkers.”

“Well, if the answer you’re really seeking is if Dillon and Gavin have been friends as long as my brother and Gavin have been, the answer is no.”

“Oh, for some reason, I thought they all went to high school together.”

Olivia reached under the sink for the dryer, plugged it in, and turned it on high. Her voice rose as she dried her golden hair. “No, Trevor and Gavin went to high school together. They’ve known each other longer. Trevor works under Dillon at the firm; this you know.”

Emily nodded.

“When my brother started working at Morgan and Buckingham, Dillon was already a stockbroker there. That’s how my brother met your totally awesome dickhead boyfriend,” Olivia laughed and Emily rolled her eyes. “When Trevor was prepping to take his Series 7 Exam to become a broker, Dillon asked him if he knew anyone that had a decent bank account. Trying to impress a higher-up, my brother introduced Dillon to Gavin, and the rest is history. They’ve been friends for the last three years.”

“Very cool.”
Or not
, Emily thought to herself.

“And, supposedly, Blake Industries is the largest account Dillon handles.”

Emily shrugged. “So? Big deal.”

“So…you could thank Gavin for the money your boyfriend has.”

Emily thought about the countless nights Dillon spent at the office, landing different clients in order to earn a living. Even though Gavin played some part in Dillon’s newly acquired wealth, she knew her boyfriend worked above and beyond Blake Industries to make that money.

She simply bowed her appreciations. “Well, thank you for that very educational background of the three men’s histories together. You’re too kind.”

The two women laughed.

Emily went to walk out of the bathroom, but Olivia spoke up one last time. “Want to know something really funny, chick?”

Emily stopped in the threshold and waited for her to go on.

“It was Gavin who was supposed to come out and visit that one weekend with my brother when we were in school—not Dillon. Crazy to think that right now you probably would’ve been dating him instead.”

A faint smile tugged at Emily’s mouth as she stared into her friend’s eyes. The ringing of Emily’s phone broke through the few seconds of silence. She moved to the kitchen to retrieve the call. It was Dillon, announcing he was waiting for her downstairs.

Grabbing her purse, Emily strode to the door as Olivia blew her a kiss goodbye.

“You look amazing tonight,” Dillon breathed into Emily’s hair as they made their way into a quaint little restaurant nestled on the lapping shores of Liberty State Park. Placing his hand on the small of her back, he leaned closer and nipped at her ear. “And I have to admit that pretty red dress
will
come off by the end of the evening.”

Giggling at his obvious gesture, Emily pushed up on her tiptoes to kiss him. “And I have no disputes with it coming off.”

She took a quick moment to catalog Dillon’s features, sighing with warmth at his boyish good looks. His dirty-blonde hair was naturally mussed as if she had just run her fingers through it, and his light brown eyes reminded her of a perfect blend of caramel and chocolate.

He had made reservations for the special evening, making sure they had a table overlooking the water. It offered some of the best views of the Statue of Liberty in the distance. The waiter led them onto a lavish patio lined with trees and subtle landscaping. The view of the harbor swept Emily’s breath from her as she took in the sights New York had to offer under the stars. Although it was the first few days in July, the air held a crisp, cooling breeze on this particular night.

After placing their order and enjoying two glasses of red wine, Emily looked to Dillon. His gaze was transfixed on hers as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. She felt a blush dance across her cheeks, and she smiled.

“What?” she asked.

Sliding his arm across the linen-draped table, he reached for her hand, smoothing the pad of his thumb along her knuckles. “You really have no idea how beautiful you are,” he remarked, inclining his body ever so subtly over the table.