I let out a guffaw then that was such a relief the smile lingered on my face long after I’d stopped laughing. When we were both finished eating, neither of us made an effort to move, despite the darkness beginning to settle in. Instead, we sat in comfortable silence as the sun disappeared and the city woke back up for the night. For the first time since receiving Anna’s message, I felt calm about it, no matter how I decided to move forward. But my heart was still racing. Because another thing had become frighteningly clear to me tonight: I had it bad for Hayes Montgomery the Third.

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Hayes

“You did all this?” I probably should have opened with something smoother, but the spread in front of me was too amazing for my brain to catch up to my mouth. Luckily, Serena laughed, glass of white wine in her hand as she waved me in, an entire restaurant-worthy vegan meal laid out on the long white dining table just off her kitchen.

“I did, yes!” she said, completely unfazed by my clunky entrance.

“I brought red,” I said, lifting the bottle in my hands. “Sorry.”

“Perfect for after dinner,” she replied with a flirty wink.

“Thank you for having me over,” I said as she took the wine out of my hands and walked into the kitchen. I stood there for a moment, assessing the scene. Candles lit. Serena in a lacy white off-the-shoulder top and ripped jeans, feet bare. Casual, yes. But also wildly sexy, in the most intentional way possible.

Everything with Serena, down to the smallest detail, was deliberate. And tonight, I knew it was all done for me, but it only made me feel tense, stressed. It was the opposite of how I’d felt with Franny during dinner a few nights ago, and I couldn’t stop circling back to that. I was here on a date, romantic and intimate. But the place I really wanted to be was back on the roof deck of my office, surrounded by potting soil and composting supplies, with Franny and her beautiful curls and bright eyes and big laugh.

“I was just looking at the final seating arrangements for the gala,” she said, tracing her hand along my collar, interrupting my thoughts. “I put us with a fun group.”

“I like fun,” I said, forcing a smile onto my face.

“Well, thank god,” she said, stepping back to grab another wineglass off the counter, handing it to me. “My ex-boyfriend was a buzzkill, and I’m still learning that it’s okay to live exactly how I want.”

She said this decisively, without hesitation, and motioned for me to take a seat at the table, in front of a delicious-looking beet salad.

“Would it be okay to ask why you and your ex split?” I asked, sliding into my seat and pouring her more wine.