Page 15 of The Wrong Promise

“My friend and I have been besties since elementaryschool, and she married her soulmate and recently had a baby. Which isn’t a life I want, but staying close to her was going to make me feel like being a childless woman is a fault rather than a choice.” I clear the lump from my throat. “I decided to do something fun with my life. I needed an adventure, only she wanted me to be part of her daughter’s life. I will be. Not now... I didn’t want to stay and regret not taking the chance to work abroad.”

“You made the right decision,” she says, eyes wide. “I’m going to take a gap year for a working holiday in Europe. Mainly Italy,” she draws out. “Better lovers, you know?”

I don’t know at all.

“I’m never getting married…” She trails off and frowns. I pivot on my bar stool to see what has caught her attention. It’s a guy wearing a suit. “Though, I could do him.”

What the…

Jobe scans the room. His eyes lock with mine, and it’s not his usual dark and broody look. There’s something else, and my stomach does a little flip.

He strides toward me. “Zara.”

“This is mydad,Jobe,” I tell Piper. Her eyes pop, and her gaze flicks from Jobe to me. “The one I was telling you about.”

“Ri-ight.” She turns to me. “Why are you complaining?” she whispers.

“You don’t know him.”

“If he wants me to, then…”

I cough to stop her saying anything else and introduce her. “Piper and I work together along with the rest of the team over there.” I point to my work friends, still gathered near the big screen.

“May I buy you a beer?” Piper asks in a sexy voice.

He frowns at her. “I. Er…” Jobe’s glaze flicks to mine, and I hide a smirk.

“Jobe has exquisite taste in booze. Best allow him to buy his own whiskey.”

The crowd erupts into cheers, the happy shouting so loud I barely hear what Jobe says.

Piper runs off to jump around with her friends to celebrate the win.

“I never understood this game,” Jobe scoffs.

“Same. But the celebrating part looks fun.”

Piper bounces back to us. “We’re heading to Soho. Want to come?” I glance at Jobe. “Both of you are welcome to join us,” she adds.

“It’s up to Zara. I can cancel the dinner reservation.” He eyes me as though he would prefer not to go.

“Count us in.”

5

JOBE

There is barelyany standing room at the cocktail bar, not exactly what I had in mind when I came to see Zara. We were supposed to be at a Michelin-star restaurant having a quiet dinner.

The table is in the far back corner, where we are squeezed around it, and the closeness of everyone has my teeth on edge. If I’m going to be surrounded by fucking kids, I’m going to need something strong to cope.

Needing an excuse to escape, I offer to head over to the bar and buy the drinks, where I wait forever to be served, then make my way back to the table. In the crowded space, I juggle too many brightly colored cocktails and a neat whiskey—not my label of choice, but it will do.

A girl bounces around in my face. “Hi. Is one of these for me?” She offers a sultry look as though I’m simply going to hand one over. After waiting twenty minutes to order, if she lays one finger on the glass, I’ll fucking walk out.

She gives me a wink as though she’s only playing and squeezes past me, knocking me off balance, and some of my cocktail spills out onto the floor.

Why am I here?

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