Chapter Fourteen
“WHAT’S YOUR PROBLEM TODAY?” Alex glanced at Bryan in the gym’s weight room mirror as he slid weights onto the end of a barbell.
Bryan settled on the edge of a weight bench with a dumbbell and positioned himself for his next set of bicep curls. “I don’t have a problem. Everything’s great. Why do you ask?”
Alex shrugged. “No reason. You’re just attacking the weights like you have something to prove.”
“I’m not climbing, so I need to amp up my routine.” Bryan gritted his teeth and adjusted his grip on the dumbbell as he curled it toward his face. It was heavier than he usually worked with —quite a bit heavier. Most climbers stuck with light weights and lots of fast reps, if they lifted at all, building strength without adding more mass they’d have to carry up a pitch. But since he didn’t plan on putting himself a hundred feet up the side of a mountain anymore, it was fine if he bulked up a little. Preferable even. There was a reason guys like Adrian spent half their free time at the gym.
Alex decided to let the question be, starting his own set of dead lifts and leaving Bryan’s mind to wander when he should be focusing on his form. No matter what he might say to Alex, he was in a bad mood. And he had no reason to be in a bad mood. They’d sent over the paperwork to Adrian, and in a show of faith that the deal would go through, he’d begun looking online for used versions of the drum roaster he wanted to use in his facility. He’d found one that was less than a year old in Missouri, and the guy was willing to ship. There was just the question of whether or not he trusted the description, or if it was worth it to fly to St. Louis and drive it back himself. He was leaning toward the latter.
The sample roaster was both easier and less satisfying; he couldn’t find any sign of the one he wanted used, so he was going to have to buy new. Four thousand dollars gone with a click of the mouse. It was necessary, though; each batch of new beans had to be sampled and evaluated before it could be roasted and sold to consumers.
Assuming he could actually do what he said he could do. It wasn’t as if he had a lifetime of roasting experience. Those two months had been intense, but it still left room for a lot of trial and error on his end.
“Bryan?”
He looked up and realized that he had stopped and was staring blindly into the mirror. “Yeah. I think I’m done today. Too much on my mind.”
“Business or personal?”
Bryan stood and returned his weights to the rack. “You can put away your shrink hat today. I’m not in the mood.”
“Personal then.” Alex grinned. “This doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that Ana is going out with that venture capital guy tonight, does it?”
“Why should I care?” Bryan growled.
“I didn’t say you did. It was just a question.” But Alex’s repressed smile said he knew exactly where his friend’s foul mood was coming from and was amused by it.
It was irritating when he was right.
Worse yet that Bryan couldn’t do anything about it. He and Ana were friends. Only friends. It didn’t matter that there was a spark of interest or chemistry or whatever you wanted to call it any time they were in the same room. Now that they were working together, their flirtation had turned to solid camaraderie. Which meant that he had absolutely no way of knowing what she was thinking because all their interactions had to be completely professional.
Bryan snatched up his towel as he stood and wiped down the bench. “I’m going to hit the showers. I’ll give you a call later.”
Alex nodded and gave a salute of goodbye, then moved on to his next set of dead lifts. Bryan exited the weight room and paused outside in the cavernous climbing arena. There were indoor walls of varying difficulty, littered with climbers of all ability levels. He watched for a moment, then shook his head and brushed by down the hallway to the locker rooms. Maybe he should have found another gym, one that didn’t cater to Denver’s climbers and extreme athletes, but he’d been coming here for years. Besides, he was paid up through the end of the year, and now especially he couldn’t afford to waste money, not if he ever wanted to get out of his parents’ house. It wasn’t like he was tempted by the walls. They were just an unwelcome reminder of a part of his life that was over.
He found his locker inside the bare-bones locker room and spun the dial before entering his combination. He’d moved on. Just like Vivian had moved on. He’d expected a pang of resentment or even envy at what she and Luke had, but instead he felt regret. Regret that he’d made bad decisions. Regret that he’d held on to her memory for so long and caused both himself and a string of women even more remorse. Regret that he hadn’t been more insistent about safety on Vivian’s climb; even if it was her mistake, he was her teacher.
What he didn’t feel now was desire for her. She’d broken his heart twice, broken his life along with it the second time around. All he felt was relief that she was gone for good.
* * *
“Which do you think? This one or this one?” Ana held up two different outfits, one after another, in front of her and waited for Rachel and Melody’s reaction.
“Neither of them.” Melody uncrossed her legs where she was sitting at the foot of Ana’s bed and hopped off onto the thick rug. It was a rare night that her friends actually came to her rather than the other way around, but she was feeling unexpectedly ambivalent about this date with Adrian. She needed her girls for support.
Melody pushed past her into the closet and came out with a flirty black slip dress. “This one.”
“No, not that one. It’s way too sexy for a first date.”
“Since when is that an issue?” Melody countered.
“I agree with Ana,” Rachel said. She’d largely stayed silent through this whole process, taking as little interest in fashion as Ana normally did in cooking, but now Ana was grateful for the backup. “She hasn’t decided if she even likes this guy, so she’s not going to wear something sexy.”
Melody sighed and put the dress back. “Fine. But you’re not wearing that potato sack.”
“It’s Chanel!” Ana exclaimed, looking at the sheath dress.
“You’re not going for shock and awe here, Ana. You’re going for approachable.”
Rachel grinned. “She kicked his butt at pool and hustled a meeting out of him. The approachable ship has sailed.”
“You two are impossible.” Melody sighed and went back to the closet. “Okay, how about this?” She came out with a pair of artistically ripped jeans and a cross-front sweater. It was one of Ana’s favorite tops, actually; loose-fitting and just low-cut enough to give a glimpse of cleavage without being indecent. “Throw on a pair of ivory heels and you’re done.”
“Fine. Let’s just hope he doesn’t show up in a suit.”
“He won’t,” Rachel said. “The Cellar is upscale casual. He’ll be appropriately dressed.”
“How do you know?” Ana asked.
Melody cocked her head. “You’re really nervous about this one, aren’t you? This guy must be special.”
“He’s just a guy. I mean, a really good-looking guy, but a guy all the same. I’m not even sure if there are sparks yet.” Ana took the hangers from Melody and retreated into her bathroom, where she took off her robe and hopped herself into the stretchy, tight-fitting jeans. She pulled the sweater on, then appeared back in the doorway. “Good?”
“Perfect. Just need some jewelry.” Melody rummaged through Ana’s jewelry chest and pulled out a couple of bangles and a pair of long, delicate earrings. “Here. You’re all set.”
Ana put them on and took a look in the mirror. “Okay. I think I’m ready. Grab me the ivory clutch and my white snakeskin Manolos, will you?”
Melody retrieved the items, giddy at getting to play in Ana’s closet, and plopped them on the bed. “I’m almost jealous. I miss this first-date thing.”
“Oh, please,” Ana said, sliding her feet into the heels. “Justin is perfect. I’ve never seen you so happy.”
“That’s true, but we’re already in the established-relationship phase. I miss the butterflies.”
“More kissing,” Rachel said.
Melody laughed. “Trust me, there is plenty of kissing going on. But you know, as romantic as candlelit dinners in bare feet can be, I liked that first-date anticipation. The excitement of a new relationship.”
Ana touched up her lipstick and dropped it into her clutch, stuffing in her wallet while she was at it. “No relationship, just a date. And on that note, I have to go.”
“Isn’t he picking you up?” Melody asked. “I was hoping to get a peek.”
“Meeting him in the lobby. Guys don’t get the condo number until at least a month in.” She drilled them with a stare. “And no hanging out to get a glimpse.”
“Okay, okay. We’re going, we promise.” Melody gathered her purse and nodded for Rachel to come with her. “Text us the minute you get home.”
“I will.” Ana hugged her friends goodbye and saw them to the front door, then unplugged her cell phone from where it was charging on the counter. It rang almost immediately, as if it were waiting to be picked up.
“Hey.” Bryan’s voice, warm and familiar, came through the handset, bringing a smile to her face.
“Hey! I didn’t expect you. It came up as a private number.”
“Oh, sorry. My phone is dead so I called from the home line. Am I interrupting anything?”
Ana checked her watch. Still five minutes until seven. “I’ve got a couple minutes. What’s up?”
“I am heading to Missouri on Monday to look at a drum roaster. Do you want to come?”
Ana blinked. “Uh, like a road trip?”
“Exactly like a road trip. Fly out early on Monday, stay overnight in St. Louis, drive the equipment back on Tuesday.”
Two days with Bryan. Two days alone, with an overnight. Separate rooms, of course, but still . . . Then she focused on the more important part of the statement. “Wait, did you hear from Adrian?”
“He emailed me this afternoon, said the paperwork was on its way to his lawyer. We should have the funds on Monday.”
A beep came through on her phone and she pulled it away to check the preview screen. A text from Adrian: he had arrived and was waiting for her in the lobby.
“Wow. That’s great news. That was fast. Let me think about it and get back to you, okay?”
“Okay. Call me tomorrow.”
Ana said her goodbye and hung up the phone, holding it for a long moment before she dropped it into her bag. That was . . . odd. Not just the invitation, but the timing. He knew she was going out with Adrian tonight. Had he wanted to be the one to break the news that the deal was going through ahead of schedule? Or was he just nervous about spending a chunk of not-yet-verified change on a roaster?
She was still turning over the matter in her head when she rode down the elevator and emerged into the lobby. Adrian stood there in the corner, hands in his pockets, looking out the window. Rachel had been right: he was wearing slacks, but with an untucked button-down and a pair of very expensive shoes. Just dressy enough for a date, just casual enough for their destination. He turned at the sound of her heels clicking across the marble floor and smiled.
Well. He was definitely handsome, she’d give him that.
He approached her and leaned down to kiss her cheek in greeting, giving her a whiff of a recognizable, high-end cologne. “Are you ready to go?”
“Sure.” She waved goodbye to the doorman as she preceded Adrian out the glass doors to the busy LoDo street.
“I’m just down there.” He pointed to a black Tesla Model S parked down the street, and Ana almost laughed. Of course he drove a $130,000 electric car. She shouldn’t have expected anything less. At least her instincts about him were right —the virtue play had definitely been the right one. He probably bought wind energy credits for his house to offset his electricity usage.
He opened her door for her, and she climbed into the sleek, leather-scented interior. When he joined her, she half expected him to start talking about the car, but instead he shifted directly to the restaurant. “Have you been to the Cellar?”
“I haven’t, actually. I’ve been so busy, I haven’t been out in ages. Besides, it just opened last month. Reservations have been impossible to get.”
He smiled. Ah, there it was. It wasn’t the restaurant that was meant to impress, but his connections.
The restaurant itself was moody and dim, modeled after a wine cellar with brick walls and rustic furnishings. Candles at each table. Ana began to feel uneasy as they were led to a two-top in the back corner, private and romantic. The host held out the chair for her and draped her napkin into her lap, while Adrian seated himself to her left.
“What do you think?” he asked, looking suddenly eager to please.
“It’s nice,” she said. “Interesting ambience. What kind of food again?”
“Rustic continental, I think. I hope you don’t mind. I took the liberty of ordering us the tasting menu in advance.”
“That’s fine.”
“Tell me, Ana, how did you end up in publicity? I understand the media studies, but not the MBA.”
So Ana gave him the rundown of how she’d made her way to Denver: she’d stayed close for her undergraduate studies so she could live at home, then gone to Berkeley because of their stellar MBA program. She didn’t say that she’d lived with her Aunt Belen the whole time to save money, both in college and after. She’d gone to work for a boutique publicity firm in San Francisco, where she’d worked for several years.
“That’s actually how I met Melody,” she said, before realizing that Adrian had no idea who Melody was. “One of my best friends. She’s a pastry chef. She and my other friend Rachel own Bittersweet Café on Old South Pearl.”
“Ah, I’ve been in there before. Good croissants.”
Ana smiled. “They’re Melody’s specialty. Anyway, it was total coincidence; we met through a mutual acquaintance at a party. We became friends, and when she mentioned she was thinking about moving back home to Denver, I thought it sounded like a good time for a change since my boss was refusing to promote me. I hired on with Massey-Coleman and the rest is history.”
“Except for the leave of absence part.”
“Oh yes.” Ana took a drink of water. “That was just politics. I go back in thirteen weeks.”
“You seem pretty confident.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
Adrian shrugged. “I don’t know. Call me cynical, but I’ve seen too many of these temporary leaves turn permanent. It’s hard to jump back in.”
It was exactly what she had feared, but she wasn’t going to let on. “I’m secure there. The fact I didn’t get fired is a positive sign.”
“It is,” he said.
“So how about you? I don’t know many little boys who want to be venture capitalists when they grow up.”
Adrian laughed. “No, probably not. You know the routine for us VC guys: undergrad at Wharton, MBA at Harvard, used family connections to talk my way into an analyst position at a first-tier firm in Boston. Where I would still probably be languishing had I not stumbled on a promising start-up and convinced the partners to invest.”
“What deal was that?”
“Ever heard of a little company called ProjeScape?”
Ana’s eyes widened. Everyone knew ProjeScape. It was a productivity app that had exploded practically overnight and was used by half the businesses in America. Including Massey-Coleman. “That was you?”
He nodded. “Got lucky. I went to school with the founder and he came to me first. I could tell it was going to go big, but trust me, it wasn’t an easy sell.”
“But once it did . . .”
“I could write my own ticket.”
“So why come back to Denver?”
Adrian shrugged. “I grew up here. I like the city. Better quality of life, great outdoor activities. There really was no comparison for me between Boston and Denver.”
Ana leaned forward, frowning. “So, if you went to school on the East Coast, how do you know Bryan? I assumed you went to college together.”
“Ah. You know those family connections I mentioned? My dad and his dad did business together. We spent many evenings playing pool in Bryan’s basement while the adults talked business.”
“You should have spent a little more time practicing then.”
Adrian grinned, but he didn’t reply because the first course arrived.
The food was just as good as Ana expected it to be, and the conversation downright pleasant. Adrian definitely had the touch of arrogance she’d come to associate with finance guys, but he was also personable and easy to talk to. By the time they left the restaurant more than two hours later, she had to admit to herself that she’d had a nice time.
They chatted easily on the way back, and when they entered the lobby of Ana’s building, he paused. “Can I walk you up?”
Ana considered. There was her one-month rule, but she was pretty sure that Adrian was neither an obsessive stalker nor a rapist. She hadn’t yet decided whether she wanted to see him again. She hadn’t decided whether she wanted to kiss him either.
He rode up the elevator with her, keeping a respectable distance, and followed her out onto her floor, where they stopped in front of her door.
“So,” she said.
“So.” He smiled down at her. “Can I see you again?”
She smiled back. “I’ll think about it.”
The moment stretched, their eyes locked, and she could feel the instant he decided to move in for the kiss. She waited, curiously unmoved, while his hand slid to her waist and his lips met hers.
It was nice. He was a good kisser. Not too aggressive, not too passive.
And she felt absolutely nothing.
He must have picked up on her lack of interest, because he pulled back and placed a solid foot between them. “Just be straight with me, Ana. I have no chance here, do I?”
She closed her eyes and sighed, and when she opened them, she knew the truth. “No. And it really has nothing to do with you.”
“I figured as much when you hesitated on Tuesday.” He shoved his hands back in his pockets and gave a resigned shrug. “Tell Bryan I authorized the wire transfer this afternoon. The money should be in his account first thing Monday morning.”
Ana studied his face. “You’re really going to invest that fast.”
A faint trace of amusement colored his expression. “You think I shouldn’t?”
“No, of course you should. I just . . . I was planning on weeks if not months.”
He shrugged. “It’s not a lot of money in the scheme of things, Ana. Nothing ventured, nothing gained and all that. Sometimes you’ve just got to take your shot and see what happens.”
She had the feeling that he wasn’t just talking about Solid Grounds now. She couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Adrian. I’m sorry.”
He smiled back. “Me too. Have a good night, Ana.”
She waited until he disappeared around the corner, then let herself into her condo and released a long sigh.
There was nothing wrong with Adrian. He was handsome, successful, easy to talk to. Maybe slightly self-congratulatory, but she was used to that by now. All in all, it was the nicest date she’d had in a very long time.
And yet when his lips touched hers, she knew something she’d known all along but hadn’t wanted to admit.
She pulled out her cell phone and tapped out a text message to Bryan.