Page 26 of (Un)Planned

“We’re both full of surprises today.”

“Me?” I squeaked. “How did I surprise you?”

“You never mentioned you datedGrayson Anders.”His tone was a little bitter, mixed with something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. He shook his head. “Many people in my business would have led with that fact.”

“That’s ridiculous.” I rolled my eyes. “We dated when I was sixteen. It was hardly a deep love connection. We broke up right before he graduated high school—amicably. We’ve kept in touch over the years, but we’re not nearly as close as we once were.”

He nodded, weighing my words. He suddenly stood, and for a moment, my heart sank. I was giving him a little piece of me, and he was walking away without a word? My lips pursed together, hating how deeply his rejection stung.But as I started to climb out of the booth, he settled on the other side of the table.

“Better,” he sighed. He looked up at me and smiled. “Hi.”

“Hi.” I could feel the heat rush to my cheeks. As much as I hated losing his warmth, hated losing the feeling of his leg up against mine, it was nice to be able to talk face to face. As he looked at me, a flush crept up my neck. What the hell was wrong with me? Guys usually didn’t make me nervous. Maybe it was because I admired Theo. Perhaps it was because his presence demanded attention from everyone in the room.

Or maybe it was because he was looking at me like he did at the bar that night. Like he wanted me. And as much as I was trying to bury it, every moment I spent with Theo only made me crave him more.

When the waitress came back to fill our coffees, Theo leaned back, breaking the tension between us. “What did you mean earlier?”

“Huh?”

“When you introduced me to Grayson. You said I’m not a diner kind of guy.”

“First of all,” I said, “it’s Gray. No one calls him Grayson except the media.” I arched a brow at him. “And honestly, when was the last time you stepped into a place like this? You forget that I make your reservations.”

“You’re making a lot of assumptions about me.”

“Maybe because you haven’t let me get to know you better,” I answered. “You keep everything very surface level. It’s hard for us to become friends if you don’t open up at all.”

“Friends?”

“Yes, Sunshine. Friends,” I over-enunciated.

“We’re not friends.”

“We could be.” I shrugged my shoulders. “I’ve been told I’m a pretty good one to have, and we both could use more. Besides, it’ll make me better at my job. The way I see it, the more I know you, the more I can anticipate your every need.” I smiled obnoxiously at him. “And then I will be the best assistant in the world.”

“Lofty goal.” He smirked.

“Confidentgoal,” I volleyed back. Leaning forward onto my elbows, I whispered, “Tell me another secret, something no one else knows about you.”

“I hate peas.”

“What?” I stared back at him. “That’s your deep, dark secret?”

“You never said it had to be deep and dark, just something that no one else knew.”

I shook my head and started to stand. “Fine. Don’t open up. I understand, boss.” Annoyance and shame washed over me. I was an idiot, thinking there was a bond forming between us, that maybe Theo was starting to warm up to me like I was to him, that we’d developed a tentative trust over the past few weeks.

But as I grabbed my bag, Theo’s voice broke me out of my haze. “My mother worked in a diner.”

I shifted to face Theo, but he was looking out the window, almost as if he was talking more to himself than me. I settled back into the booth as he continued. “I spent most of my childhood in a booth just like this one. My mother immigrated here when she was pregnant with me, wanting to provide a better life for her child. She worked from sun up to sunset but still managed to come to every school event, every parent-teacher conference.” He ran his hand along the seat. “After school each day, I’d go to thediner, order a milkshake, and split it with my mom while she helped me with my homework.” He paused, smiling softly at me. “When we walked inside…” He sighed. “It took me back for a moment.”

“You’ve never mentioned your mother before.”

“She died.” He dropped his gaze down to his hands. “About five years ago.”

I reached out, placing my hand on top of his. “I’m so sorry, Theo.”

He squeezed my hand for a moment, his thumbs brushing the ridges of my knuckles. It was a small moment, but it felt like more. For the first time, neither of us pulled away, content in the bubble we’d made for ourselves. And yes, when we returned to work, we’d have to go back to being only boss and assistant.

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