No strings attached Read Free Page B

place.”
    The beginning was one place to which she preferred not to return. Look at the trouble she was in now because of where she’d begun. “I’m not sure my, uh, situation has a beginning as much as a sudden realization by others that it exists.”
    “English, Chloe. Plain English.”
    “It’s about work and my reputation for savoring a good expletive.”
    Eric let out a loud whoop. “I knew it was bound to happen. You’ve been called on the carpet for your potty mouth, haven’t you?”
    “And that’s another thing,” she responded, rising to the debate. “Why is it a potty mouth for a woman and straight business vernacular for a man? Another totally unfair double standard.” It was one of her pet peeves.
    Eric was scarcely able to keep a straight face. “I’d think it would be hard to be one of the guys when you work for a company called gIRL-gEAR.”
    “It’s perfectly acceptable for me to be one of the guys when it’s a partners-only situation. When we have late night meetings or when we do our thing at Macy’s loft. Make that Lauren’s loft, since Macy is in the throes of cozy domestic bliss with Leo.” Chloewent back to toying with her straw, dunking her ice cube. “It’s when I…forget myself at the office that Sydney tends to get bent out of shape.”
    “It’s hard to imagine Sydney Ford getting bent out of shape over anything.”
    “She takes the business seriously. And that includes how each of the partners’ actions and reputations reflect back on gIRL-gEAR.”
    “So, you’ve been busted.”
    “In a manner of speaking, yes.”
    “Sounds like it was your manner of speaking.”
    This was where she needed to tread carefully—and where she most needed his help. She held up her own thumb and index finger. “There’s a little bit more.”
    “More?” Eric braced both forearms on the bar edge and leaned into her space, as if he couldn’t stand not knowing what other trouble she’d gotten herself into.
    Funny how she wanted his interest on the one hand, but hated that he showed it on the other. She wished she was here for any other reason.
    Now that the time had arrived, she hated that she’d had to come here at all. That she couldn’t get herself out of this ridiculous mess on her own.
    She drew long and hard on her straw, swallowed and, before she could think twice, blurted out, “It’s my dating habits.”
    “You mean, the men you go through like diet soda?” he asked, spinning her now empty glass on the bar. “The first sip satisfies, but then the ice melts and the fizz is gone?”
    She narrowed her eyes. “That’s not one hundred percent accurate.”
    “What is accurate, Chloe? Because no matter how hard I try, I can’t find enough fingers and toes to countthe number of men I’ve seen you with this year. And it’s only April.”
    Was it really over twenty? She’d obviously lost count. “I like men. I like dating. But it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out immediate incompatibility.”
    “Wait a minute. Let me get this straight.” Eric shook his head, signaled a time-out. “Every time you go out with a new guy, you give him a compatibility test? You don’t try for friendship first? Or for just plain fun?”
    “Fun and friendship also require compatibility, sugar.”
    All girls had their expectations and fantasies, didn’t they? So what if hers were nonnegotiable. She knew she’d heard at least one song about a woman bemoaning the absence of her own John Wayne.
    Chloe’s preference just happened to be Cary Grant.
    “And you and me?” Eric asked. “You think we’re compatible?”
    They had fun together. She counted him as a friend. It was a start, wasn’t it? “We spent a month digging through one another’s baggage and I’m still here, aren’t I?”
    Eric seemed momentarily at a loss for words. But his thought processes seemed equally stunned, judging from the sudden blank look on his face. But then he caught her off guard, retorting,