“That shouldn’t be too hard. I’ll come up with some low-cost ideas for you and Eleanor to consider.” There was a flurry in my chest of pure excitement. “And we’ll get the ball rolling.”

Back inside, Hayes hovered a few feet away as I packed up my bag.

“I liked your suggestions,” he said, looking up from his phone, “about my office. My taste is pretty simple, and sometimes I worry that I don’t have any. But maybe I do.”

There was a question hidden behind his statement, and something about it sounded almost insecure. Could it be possible that underneath his fancy suits Hayes was still working out who he was?

“Of course you do. You’re minimalistic. Understated.”

I studied him, a piece of art hanging in a museum that I didn’t quite understand but couldn’t help but want to. “There’s nothing simple about a well-made suit, for example.”

Standing on that roof in the center of the city had made me feel invincible, fearless. I took a step toward him and tugged on his suit lapel. “I mean, this thing is as plain as possible and yet it’s impeccably crafted. So maybe that’s your taste.”

He blinked, and I could swear he seemed to be studying me. I took a step back, immediately mortified, and tried to course-correct the conversation

“What I mean is…” I searched around my brain for the right words. “Maybe you’re more interesting than you’re giving yourself credit for.”

And just when I was certain that I’d ruined everything with my babbling, Hayes smiled at me.

“Maybe,” he said as he shifted his hands to his hips, “you are too.”

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

Hayes

Perrine and I had a good clip going tonight. We were running north up the east side of Central Park, maneuvering around cyclists, families with strollers, lingering tourists. I would have preferred to run in silence, but Perrine wanted an update on the Serena situation.

“She invited me to this black-tie gala she’s helping put together,” I huffed through measured breaths. It was Serena we were discussing, but suddenly I was thinking of Franny, and what she might wear to a black-tie gala. She’d had jeans on the other day as we walked through the office, and this delicate black tank top, and when she laughed she— The thought froze in my mind, rewound three steps. The office. We were working together now. I had to be professional.

“Have you even hooked up?” Perrine asked, winded. Oh, right, Serena. The woman I was actually dating.

“We’ve kissed. That’s it. Is that weird? I honestly feel like I’ve forgotten how to date people.”