Page 16 of The Wrong Promise

When you have a sister-in-law begging for you to check in on her best friend with tears streaming down her cheek, then you do it. Admittedly, I also wanted to desperately see Zara. The unspoken words between us about a certain night are driving me crazy.

She’s pretending it didn’t happen, and that hurts. I wanted to offer an explanation of my sudden disappearance to ensure her it wasn’t rejection. It’s quite the opposite since a woman has never spooked me as much as Zara did.

When I get back to the table, Zara is waiting alone. “Everyone left. They said it’s too busy and went somewhere else.”

She stares at me as I set the drinks on the high table. “You didn’t go with them?”

She shrugs. “I didn’t want to run out on you while you were at the bar buying me and my friend drinks. It wasn’t the right thing to do.”

“Thank you,” I offer, sliding both cocktails in front of her. It’s typical of Zara to do theright thing. It’s why I need to ask for a favor. She drains the cocktail through a straw in seconds. I raise an eyebrow. “Can you at least sip it? I’m not keen to get back in that line.”

Zara drains the second glass just as quickly. “Drink up,” she says. “I want to leave.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, it’s not really my thing.”

Nor mine.“Where did your friends go?”

“It’s not that. I want to go home.”

I throw my whiskey back and stand, holding out my hand to take hers. I know if I don’t keep hold of her, I’ll loseher in the crowd. It’s only when we make it to the doors that I let go of her hand to wipe down my suit jacket. There’s enough alcohol spilled over me to fill another bottle. It will need to be dry-cleaned or tossed in the damn trash.

We walk to the street, and I tap on my cell to call my driver. “Thank you for coming,” she says gently. “I could see you were struggling in there. I should’ve said no to my friends, but I wanted to test you, and it was wrong of me.”

I finish speaking to Ben, then end the call and ask, “Test me how?”

Zara shrugs.

“Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Pop your shoulders. A flippant attitude is disrespectful.” She rolls her eyes. “And so is that. Tell me… what’s on your mind. It’s better than the guessing game we have going on.” I wasn’t one to beat around the bush. It was more productive to get straight to the point.

“Do you really care about me?”

“Of course, I care about you.”

Her eyes assess me before looking away to the busy road. A red double-decker bus drives past, and the sight makes her slightly smile. She looks at her feet and then back at me. “You’re here for Penny, and while it’s sweet, I have told her I’m fine. Now I’m telling you I’m doing okay and don’t need a minder because it’s frustrating the hell out of me.”

Ben pulls up, and I open the door for her. Zara just stands there like she doesn’t want to get in. “Zara?”

“If you’re here because of Penny, then I don’t need to see you anymore. But if you’re here because you want to be, then…” She pulls her coat around her shoulders and looks down the road.

“Then what?”

She fucking shrugs again.

“Get in, Zara. We’ll talk about this at yours.”

“Don’t go to mine. There’s barely any room. I have no food, and to be honest, I’m starving. I’m happier to drive through a burger joint.”

“We are not driving through a takeout restaurant.” I close her door and stride around the other side. “To my penthouse, please, Ben.”

Her eyes round. “You have your own penthouse here?”

“Of course I do. Where else do you think I stay?”

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