“No, I don’t know that.” I slump back in the booth, dragging a hand through my hair.

“You should, because you’re terrific.”

“Thanks, but it doesn’t really matter, does it?” I ask, more briskly than I’d like. “And I think what stings the most is I knew I wasn’t getting the full-time gig. I was fine with that, accepted it. But I thought this one was safe. Turns out that’s not the case. Guess I was wrong on that count too.”

“There will be other opportunities, Jason.” She sets her hands on the table, then makes a move like she’s going to reach for mine. But I don’t know what to do with kindness right now. I don’t know that I can handle it.

I keep my hands in my lap.

“Maybe,” I mutter.

“There will be. But I know you wanted this one, I know you were counting on it. I’m sorry.” She sets her hands in her lap, smiling sympathetically, and I hate that. But I also love it. I love it a lot—the way she cares, the way she wants to make me feel better. For a few seconds, I nearly cave. Because it’s comforting to have someone who understands.

I could join her on her side of the booth, kiss her hard, kiss away all my frustration. Hell, I bet we could fuck it away, and I’d be fine.

But the trouble is, I’d be in the same position after a roll in the hay. Besotted with her, instead of work. And I’m pretty damn sure that’s part of the problem.

Rather, that is the problem.

I swallow harshly, scrubbing my hand across the back of my neck. “I’m not at the top of my game. That’s the trouble.” I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the inevitable. “I think that falling in love is absolutely fucking distracting and ruining everything we’ve built.”

“What?” She flinches, shirking back like my statement didn’t compute.

But it makes as much sense as two plus two. This is easy math, even if I don’t like the answer.

“This seems proof of it, don’t you think? Love, feelings, all that stuff—it’s utterly distracting. It’s causing both of us to lose sight of our goals.”

She’s a mixologist—she ought to know. Add love to the cocktail mix of good sex, and what do you get? A drink that makes you lose your mind.

I’ve seen what love leads to. Seen how it makes you a fool. Witnessed how a man can end up with nothing when he chases it.

“It can be distracting, but it can also maybe be something . . .” Her voice rises like she’s waiting for me to fill in the answer. Hoping for me to color it in.

There’s no room in me for vulnerability. Emotions have been my foe, and letting them become a bedfellow was what brought me to the place where my business is falling apart.

She’s still looking, waiting for a word to fill in the blank, and so I give it to her. “Something like a problem. That’s what you were saying? It can be a massive boulder careening toward you, ready to crush you. You take your eye off of responsibilities. Off the prize. You start making mistakes. Don’t you see it? Obviously, it’s happening to both of us. You and your deal, me and my job.”

She’s silent for several long beats.

“Right?” I push.

She purses her lips.

“I mean, what else could it be?”

A long breath, and at last she answers, her voice crisp. “You’re right. We were crazy to think anything else. We should do what we’ve always done—be friends.”

Relief surges through me. “Exactly. That’s what I’m saying. Before we muck that up too. We still have time to go back. And it’ll all be fine. I can focus on business; you can focus on business. That’s what we both wanted to do all along.”

She offers a smile, then says, “I agree.”

Yes, she sees the wisdom of it. She’s a smart woman—I knew she would.

She laughs and waves like she’s dismissing the madness of the last few nights. “You’re so right. Love. Pssh. What is that? Silly distraction.”

“Thank you. I knew you’d feel the same way. Two workaholics, right?” I say with a wry grin.

She nods savagely, biting out a response. “Absolutely.”

“So, listen. I’ll finish paying off my sister’s school. Wrap up my best man jobs, devote more time to the Modern Gentleman. And you can go full speed ahead with finding another investor for the pub. Once we get all that sorted, we’ll see where we are. How’s that sound? Because it sounds fucking brilliant to me.”

She smiles so big and broadly, I bet it hurts. “Yes, that’s obviously the way to go.”

I breathe a massive sigh. “I’m so glad we’re in agreement.”

“Me too.”

The bell above the door rings, and when I jerk my gaze in that direction, Malone’s walking in.

“What should we tell him?”

“The truth. Since we’re not together, it shouldn’t be a big deal.”

“Exactly. No big deal whatsoever.”

“What’s wrong with the two of you? You look like someone told you that you have to eat bacon for the rest of your lives.”

Truly gives a forced laugh. “That does seem like quite a jail sentence.”

He smiles and studies us curiously. “I feel like I should order bacon just to drive you crazy.”

“I’m not ready for that kind of punishment,” I quip, feeling pretty good about how Truly and I just worked that out like adults. And about how now we can have lunch with her brother. Like adults. And we can all make jokes. Like adults.

Malone glances at me then at his twin. “All right. I’m ready for your confession. You guys asked for this meeting. Let me guess—you’re finally going to tell me you’re into each other. I’m shocked. Absolutely shocked.”

Wow. Nick called that one. From ten miles away. Still, that’s not what this lunch is about.

“Yes, that’s what I want to tell you,” I say, keeping it professional and straightforward. “Truly and I were involved briefly, but we’re not going to be involved anymore. We’re staying friends. We both agreed to it. It’ll be great.”

“It was mutual,” Truly chimes in, cool, calm, and rational. More proof that this decision is the right one. “We had a thing. It happened a couple of times. But we’re just not at the place in our careers where we can date each other. We’re still good friends, and we wanted to assure you of that, because we don’t expect any weirdness.”

My God, she sounds so on top of this. She’s a brilliant businesswoman, unperturbed by blips.

“If you’re back on the friendship train, why are you telling me retroactively?”

I jump in. “We wanted to be up front because we were involved behind your back for a little bit.”