Page 70 of My Totally Unfair Deal

I’ve been nursing the same drink for an hour, phone face-up on the table like it’s holding its breath. Eliza hasn’t replied yet. I know she’s busy, but still.

I’m about to check the time again when Jackson’s name flashes across my screen.

“Hey,” I answer.

“You don’t know if it’s been successful yet,” he says without preamble.

“Sorry?”

“The Eliza project,” he clarifies. “I know you said not to count on results too early. But our website keeps crashing, and Janey says we’ve pulled ninety new reservations for the fall. So… you must’ve done something right. If this keeps up, I might finally be able to tell the IRS to kiss my ass.”

I nod, even though he can’t see me. “Glad to hear it.”

“I owe you big, man.”

“Actually…” I glance around the bar, lowering my voice. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about. Regarding your sister.”

I’ve rehearsed this conversation more times than I can count—scribbled down bullet points, reworded them, tossed entire note cards. I was hoping to strike the right balance betweenI really like Eliza and want to keep seeing herandplease don’t beat my ass.

But Jackson speaks first.

“I’m just glad you’re loyal as hell,” he says. “Still a real friend, even after all these years.”

“I’m happy about that too.”

“And that you’re all business,” he adds. “Every guy I bring around Eliza eventually tries to come onto her. But not you.”

…Okay. So much for that speech.

He keeps going. “She’s emotionally immature, you know. Sweet as hell, but still figuring herself out. I hope she meets a good Southern guy one day. Somebody stable.”

“What about a good Manhattan guy?”

He laughs. “Youmean a guy like you?”

He laughs even harder. “Nah. No offense, but I can’t picture you—or any guy like you—being faithful to anything for more than a month. And I’d never go for that. Ever.”

All taken.

“Anyway, I gotta run. I’m handling the phones today and I don’t want to miss a single reservation. Talk to you later.”

The call ends, and I stare at my screen for a moment before setting the phone down.

He’s not wrong.

I don’t regret crossing the line with Eliza—every second with her felt like the one thing in my life that wasn’t calculated—but I was dead wrong to think it could ever work.

Her life is in Tennessee. Mine’s here. And if Jackson ever found out what happened, I wouldn’t just lose a friend—I might end up as the lead suspect in a homicide report.

That wasn’t part of the deal.

And considering I owe Jackson my life—literally—I don’t have a choice.

I have to let her go.

THIRTY-SIX (B)

HARRISON

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