Push Me (To The Edge series, #1) by Jill Macintosh Read Free Book Online Page B

I knew he had come here just to keep an eye on me.
    He would swing by the store and pick me up around six, then we’d fly back to NYC on his plane. I didn’t want to do that, but I wanted to avoid a fight more, so I let him have his way.
    I called Rachel during lunch.
    “Fucking hell!” was her reaction. “Imagine if—”
    “I know.”
    “— he had found the two of you together.”
    I was at a deli, having a salad with grilled chicken and a sweet tea. It was busy, a long line at the counter, all the tables crammed together, with people eating hurriedly.
    “It’s not like I would have had Sam in my room.”
    “You don’t know that.”
    “What? Yes, I do. And I take offense at your not-so-subtle hint that I’m a slut.”
    Two older ladies were at the table right next to mine. Out of my peripheral vision, I saw their heads turn at the word “slut.” I looked back at them and smiled.
    Rachel said, “Where’s Ian now?”
    “Out somewhere. Who knows? He claims he’s scoping out a company here.”
    “Yeah, right. The only thing he’s scoping out is you.”
    I put my fork down, and took a deep breath. “As if I don’t know that.”
    “So did you get in touch with Sam?”
    “Not yet. I’m not sure what to tell him. I feel bad for ignoring him.”
    “Tell him you fell asleep.”
    “ Doing what?” I said. “Watching the boring baseball game?”
    “You could. It’s not a bad icebreaker.”
    I thought about it for a minute. What the hell had I been thinking when I agreed to go have a drink with him? I’d turned that over and over in my head last night as I was going to sleep after the routinely mechanical sex with Ian, and came up with this realization: I craved time with a guy who wasn’t anything like Ian and I was projecting that on Sam.
    It wasn’t fair—not to me, and not to Sam. I owed him an apology. But the whole thing was so awkward, I didn’t want to deal with it at all. I’d be leaving Atlanta later in the day and I wouldn’t have to be in the airport terminal, so there was little chance of running into Sam again. He hadn’t followed up on the texts and voicemail from last night, so he’d probably given up anyway.
    “There’s no ice to break,” I said to Rachel. “I’m not going to write him back.”
    “Your call. I won’ t try to pressure you, but I think you’ll regret it.”
     

Chapter Five
     
    I made it through the entire workday without hearing from Sam. I took that as confirmation that I had made the right decision in not writing him back. He was divorced, a somewhat recognizable figure if you followed baseball, good looking, and charming, so I’m sure there was no shortage of women who were more than willing to give him some attention. Why would he care so much about me not returning his messages? Obviously he didn’t.
    Later that evening, on the flight home, Ian had dinner waiting for us on his plane.
    “What is this?” I asked.
    “Coq au vin and pommes duchesse,” he said, affecting a heavy French accent.
    Say what?
    I looked up at him, then back down at the plate. “Looks like chicken and potatoes to me.”
    He shook his head. “It’s rooster with Burgundy, and the potatoes are piped from a bag with a little egg mixed in. That’s how they get that shape.”
    Yep , I thought, chicken and potatoes.
    Rather than say that and start a debate about the food, I just ate.
    Ian poured himself some more wine. “Tell me about your day.”
    My day had been routine, nothing special to report, and actually went very well, so I kept it short and sweet, and turned the conversation to his day. “What company were you looking at?”
    As he a nswered, my mind wandered. My thoughts started with the chicken and potatoes, but that episode was purely emblematic of a larger issue.
    I’m sure I seem ungrateful for the nice stuff Ian did for me, but that’s not what it’s about. I didn’t take any of it for granted. I appreciated it, and it was all very nice. For a while,