I cleared my throat. “Well, your dad is a dipshit. Going after you like this isn’t going to help his cause.”

His lips twitched, but he managed to suppress his grin.

“Why didn’t you go into the family business?” I continued. “I thought you were all set to do that after law school.”

He looked away. “Another long story.”

I huffed in frustration. “Make it short. Give me the CliffsNotes version.” The tension in the room was thick and heating up the space. Or maybe that was my body’s response to eyeing him up.

“I decided I didn’t want to work with him. There was a moment when I saw what my future looked like, and I didn’t like it. So I broke off and did my own thing. I never took the bar exam either.”

He made it sound like it was no big deal, and maybe it wasn’t to him. But to me, well, his simple statement sent a barb through my heart and dug a deeper gouge in the already ripped-open wound he’d given me. Maybe when he’d had his glimpse into the future, he’d realized he didn’t like what he saw with me either.

“I see,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

I looked at my phone and attempted to focus on my emails, trying to get my wits about me. Maybe Cal was right to say I shouldn’t be here, not because I was worried about his dad but because moments like this were too hard. They left me feeling raw and exposed, and even the light brush of my clothes against my skin hurt.

A subject line caught my eye. I tapped on the email from my client Mindy. Less than twenty-four hours had passed since she’d paid the deposit and taken the forms to fill out to start the process. Sure, she’d been a little scared, but she’d expressed both her firm desire and her excitement to work with me, and now… she was bailing. Telling me she’d had a change of heart.

I couldn’t believe it. I gave a small, quiet, derisive laugh. Surely, the timing was a coincidence. I stuck my phone into my bag.

“What?” Cal took a step toward me.

“Nothing.” I used my best poker face to cover the lie and drew Paul into the conversation. He’d been watching us with a curious expression on his face. “When you say ‘rekindle,’ what do you have in mind? How do you want that to be seen?”

Cal moved to my chair and stuck out his hand. “Give me your phone.”

I swatted him away. “Go away, bad dream. I’m not giving you my phone.” I stared up at him and narrowed my eyes. I had to shift to my side to get the full picture, or else I’d be staring up into his nose. “You are making a big deal out of absolute zero. I saw a meme or read a headline about us, or it could have been a host of things. Why are you acting like a straight-up weirdo?”

Paul cleared his throat. “Like I said, with stage two, we see you guys dating. Rekindling. We let the app plot out some outings or events and have you two go together.”

Cal lunged just as I swiveled to the side, turning my back to him. I snaked my hand into my purse and covertly tried to tuck the phone into my bra. His long arms were reaching over me as I bent to protect my purse and front. I jumped from the chair and skirted away from him, going to stand behind the couch, putting Paul and the furniture between us.

“What has gotten into you? Why are you obsessed with my phone?” I kept my purse over my front as a decoy.

“I’m curious about what you saw that made you frown, and I know that laugh.”

“What are you talking about, you loon?”

He moved across from me. “That ‘I can’t believe this’ laugh that you follow up with a rant.”

I rolled my eyes. “Like you know me so well. Maybe that laugh has changed. I haven’t followed it up with a rant, so clearly you’re wrong.”

“Reenie,” he growled.

I went back to Paul. “You were saying, Paul? Something about outings and events? You want us to appear like a couple?”

“Or two people entertaining the idea of becoming a couple.” His attention swiveled between Cal and me.

“If there is nothing on your phone, then why can’t I see it?” His hands were on his hips.

“Maybe I got a naughty message from my boyfriend.” I quirked a brow.

“Didn’t you say you weren’t dating that blond actor?” He quirked a brow to match mine.

“Maybe my boyfriend isn’t Nick.” I kept my eyes on his. It was a battle of wills, and I was determined to win.

“So he sent you a breakup text because had it been naughty, you would have blushed.” He took a step toward me and the couch.