Page 3 of Coming Around Again

I waver, because I love Raj Palace, but finally shake my head. “Bad idea today. It’d be just my luck to spill curry all over my suit, and there’s a meeting today. So not anywhere messy, okay?”

Chase snorts, pushing the button for the elevator. “You just ruled out Indian, Chinese, Mexican, and Italian. Oh, and Mediterranean. You snob.”

“Messy eating is not snobbery,” I point out. “We both know things taste better when they’re messy.”

“This is true.” The elevator shows up and we get on. “What were you working on?” Chase asks me. “You looked pissed off.”

I make a rude noise. “Bunch of crap I don’t really understand. My MBA is in general management, not the data analysis stuff. I thought we were trying to hire a business analyst, but I haven’t heard anything about that talent search since I got back from vacation.”

“I heard we hired somebody. Some girl from Ohio, I think. How was the vacation?”

“Well, Mom picked the place, of course. It was nice. Upstate New York is cool this time of year, and the lake was beautiful.”

“Aunt Christie’s a lake girl,” Chase says, nodding. “So how is everybody? Tell your mom and Megan I said hi.”

“Megan brought her idiot fiancé with her,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Seriously, how does a smart woman like my little sister put up with a guy that dumb? More to the point, how does a guy become a partner in an investment firm without picking up any common sense?” I shake my head. “I guess he has a good heart, but to be honest, I’m disappointed in Megan.”

“It’s her life,” Chase points out. We get out on the first floor and head for the parking lot.

“She deserves better,” I say. She does. Megan is always on my side, 24/7, so I’m determined to be on hers. Even if she’s wrong.

Chase jangles his keys. “I’ll drive.”

I roll my eyes. “Of course you want to drive.” Chase bought a white Lexus convertible a few months ago, and he drives every chance he gets. “So where are we going?”

“Big Pig?”

I mull it over and decide I can probably eat a pulled-pork sandwich without wearing it, as long as I go light on the barbecue sauce. “Let’s go.”

In the car, Chase is intent on telling me about his recent date with a hot blonde. “Sierra was Miss Teen Alabama a few years ago, and now she’s working for a nonprofit downtown. They must not be paying her anything, because when we went to dinner, she ate like a trucker. Appetizers, bread, salad, entrée and dessert…took a box home, too.”

“Did you like her?”

He shrugs one shoulder, changing lanes. “She’s fine. Nothing special, though. Pretty blondes are a dime a dozen.”

I roll my eyes.

“Hey,” Chase says defensively. “You haven’t dated since, what, grad school? You should get out more.”

“I date as much as I want to date. Which is, not often.”

“I should give you Sierra’s number. You might like her. She’s got great legs.”

For one moment I think about another set of great legs, long and tanned, and I’m just gone, right back there in the summer before college, crazy in love and sure that I’ll stay that way forever…

“If you can’t think of a reason not to, I’m definitely giving you her number.”

“That might be insulting,” I tell my cousin. “You know, you inherited the Brickell good looks but also the rich-kid obliviousness to other people’s feelings.”

It’s Chase’s turn to make a rude noise. “You’re as much Brickell as I am, and your mom’s not a mean rich kid.”

This is true. I’m part of the family that owns GoPlay, even if my last name is O’Brien. That’s been a mixed blessing, working for the family company, because sometimes people don’t know the relation and say uncomplimentary things in front of me.

Chase shrugs, turning into the parking lot of the Big Pig. “I’m not gonna ask her out again. Probably. She was pretty, she was nice, but there just wasn’t that spark.”

I know about spark. The first time I saw Naya coming out of the lake in her red one-piece, the suit molded to her lithe body and water dripping, everything lit up for me. There’s never been anything else in my dating experience like it.

“I like brunettes anyway.” It’s not just an excuse. Yeah, I’ve dated blonde girls, but it’s brown hair with a cinnamon tint to it that makes me look twice. Brown eyes like melted chocolate. Skin tanned golden, a few freckles on the shoulders. A wide smile. Happiness walking around on two feet.

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