Page 48 of Thank you, Next

“I don’t think you’d say that if you heard the kind of salty language that usually gets thrown around. Everyone’s minding their p’s and q’s right now.”

Andrew laughed and clapped Will on the back. “I actually had an idea for how to spice up our project, if you’re into it.”

Will didn’t roll his eyes, but it was a close call. One of the reasons he was hesitant to do reality TV was that the gimmicks were often cringeworthy. “All right. Shoot.”

“Are you still in contact with your ex-wife?” Will must not have controlled his face quite as well this time because Andrew stepped back a little. “I think it would be great television if she came to work here as your head sommelier and we set up a little ‘will they or won’t they?’ ”

“ ‘Will they or won’t they?’ what?” Will had a sinking feeling that they were going to try to gin up viewership with a showmance between him and his ex-wife. The very idea made him a little nauseous, and he was doubtful that April would go for it.

“I think people love a second-chance romance. It has everything—lust, tension, redemption.”

He could have been describing the run-up to him and Alex sleeping together, but it would be awkward to say that right now, considering Will’s current relationship with Andrew’s ex-girlfriend.

“I don’t think that’s going to work. I doubt April would even be interested. She’s moved on.” She’d been seeing someone new the last time he’d stopped by the house they’d shared to pick up the last of his stuff. That had been a few months ago, so who knew?

“Her agent said that she might be interested, given the right terms. She got some bad publicity when that web channel she was doing wine content for fell apart. I think she’s looking to freshen up her image.”

Will had heard about it, but he’d empathized from afar because the ink had still been wet on their divorce papers.

“Even if April is willing to do it, I’m not.”

Andrew quirked his head. He probably didn’t have many people wanting to turn down a dose of publicity very often.

“I have a new girlfriend.”

Andrew’s brows went up. “Is she also in the business? If so, we can slot her in where we’d planned to use April.”

Will didn’t like how this guy talked about people. But he was used to not liking everyone he worked with. Some of his investors worked in the oil and gas industry, and he’d learned to keep his mouth shut when they talked about his farm-to-table ethic as a way to greenwash their dirty hands.

Capitalism sucked, but it was the water they were all swimming in for the time being. Until the oceans rose so high from climate change that they were actually all just swimming. And Andrew was a capitalist who had seen a way to make money.

“Actually, no. You know her,” Will said. Even though he was feeling unsure of what was going on in Alex’s head, he was willing to disclose their relationship if it got him out of pantomiming a reconciliation with April for the sake of good television. “I’m dating Alex.”

Andrew blinked a couple of times in seeming disbelief. “You’re dating Alex? Why?”

That was when Will got angry. The back of his neck got hot, and his gut tightened. “Why not?”

“She’s kind of a cold fish.” Andrew’s words were scoffing and dismissive. Will’s hands curled into fists, and he stepped around a prep table to be away from this guy. “She was so much fun when we started dating—just cool and sexy and I never had to guess at what she was thinking. It was exciting to be with someone who didn’t ask very much of me. But after a few months, it was like there was just no softness to her. Zero tenderness.”

If this guy was interested in tenderness, Will had a meat mallet with which he could tenderize his balls. He wanted to throttle him for making such broad proclamations about Alex. He didn’t even know her that well. There were so many arguments that he could make for why Alex wasn’t a cold fish. But given how little emotion Alex had expressed since they’d spent the weekend sequestered in his loft, he could see how someone could assume she was cold in a romantic relationship.

The only reason Will held out hope that they could weather whatever hesitation she was having about them was because he’d known her so long. They’d been falling in and out of love since they were teenagers. Oh shit—did he love her? He certainly wasn’t going to waste his time listing Alex’s attributes to this guy. But he wasn’t going to fake angst with his ex-wife for the sake of ratings, either.

“Well, she’s my cold fish.” He’d leave it at that.

“Good luck, man.” Will barely suppressed a growl at that, but Andrew seemed to get that the topic was closed because he moved on to other format and story ideas, and they had a productive meeting for the rest of the hour.

When Andrew left, though, Will thought about what he’d said about Alex. Will was still angry at Andrew. He thought he was definitely wrong, but maybe Alex got cold in romantic relationships. Maybe the only reason she ran hot with him before they’d slept together was that there wasn’t any risk involved in the relationship. He couldn’t force her to let him in, to let him know her. The only thing he could do was let her know that he wanted inside her heart and hope that she gave him the key.

TWENTY

On the last Monday before his restaurant opened, Will hosted a soft opening for the one person whose opinion mattered to him most. Over the past week, he’d had to deal with final health inspections from the city; hosting a dinner for reviewers local, national, and international; and another meeting with Andrew. Luckily, the producer didn’t mention Alex again.

However, Andrew’s words had stayed with him. And he hadn’t even been able to sleep in Alex’s bed every night that week. She’d taken a trip to San Francisco to take a series of depositions in a contentious child custody case, so he’d had to settle for a couple of sleepy FaceTime conversations. She’d seemed distracted the whole time, but when he’d asked her what was wrong, she’d just said that she was tired.

He found himself growing unsure and anxious about whether she even really liked him. And it was a huge head trip.

When she arrived at the restaurant that night, though, he finally let the tension that he’d been holding the whole week go. If she didn’t care about making their relationship work, she wouldn’t have gotten off a plane and then put on a dress that made his heart beat faster. She wouldn’t smile at him like she’d been waiting to see him all day. And she wouldn’t have melted in his arms and given him a kiss that screamed through his bloodstream, almost making him forget that he needed to take fresh focaccia out of the oven so that it would be warm when she dipped it in olive oil.