Page 68 of Stacked
Robert met my gaze, his eyes wide. “What? With me?”
“Yep.”
“Everything’s fine.” He broke eye contact and fiddled with a nearby stack of books. “Why would you wonder?”
I stared at him for a beat, my stomach twisting at his words. Whenever I said I was fine, I was far from it.Is it the same for him too?“I don’t know. You tell me.”
“Everything is fine.” He looked up and gave me a tight smile. “I think we’re only a few minutes away from the segment, aren’t we?”
“Sure are.” Frank scooped up two lavalier microphones and crossed to each of us. “If you don’t mind, please put these on and tuck the wires underneath your shirts. There’s a clip on the back you can fasten to your clothes.”
We did as he asked and took our places in the seats as Frank fiddled with the camera. I was scared and a bit nervous about what was going to happen next, but those feelings were also overshadowed by the odd way Robert had responded to Frank’s question. He didn’t sound like the person I’d been getting to know at all, and that made my gut twist.
Still, as Frank gave us the countdown, telling us the interview was only moments away, I pushed those feelings aside. This was a huge opportunity, and I didn’t want to mess it up. Whatever was going on with Robert, I’d deal with it later.
CHAPTER THIRTY
ROBERT
Later that night, as we lay in bed, I thought again about the interview. I didn’t intend to lie to Anya. Not lie—misdirect. I didn’t intend tomisdirecther as we got ready for the interview. Not at all.
Frank’s question caught me off guard. I knew the answer he was probably looking for, a simple acknowledgment that, yes, life was better in a small town, and no, I didn’t have any intention of leaving now that my business was on the verge of opening. Frank wasn’t asking a controversial question and, had he done it twenty-four hours earlier, I wouldn’t have had any trouble answering it.
But that was before Hudson had sent me that email. Before he made an offer I hadn’t seen coming, and before he floated some ideas about an opportunity that had once been an out-of-reach dream when I lived in Manhattan.
Funny how a few lines in an email can have such a huge impact.
That’s really all it took to shake me up and pull me away from my expected path. Before all this, I wasn’t questioning my plan. Now, no matter what I did, I was. I was questioning everything. During the interview, Hudson’s email seemed to grow larger in my mind as I turned over every possible implication in his words.
Did I want to take a role at a venture capital firm? At one point, I did. Did I want that now? I wasn’t sure. Did I want to set up shop in Miami? Maybe.
What would that do to my life here? What about my growing relationship with Anya?
I turned over and pulled Anya closer to me, her ass snuggling against me, the warmth of her naked body a welcome pleasure for the second night in a row. She was still asleep, and I barely saw the outline of her in the darkness. Judging by the moonlight streaming through the window across from my bed, it had to be close to three in the morning.
And God, I think I’d slept about two hours.
