That's How it Happens

4. Elevator Confessions

Leo stared through the open doors as another guest slipped into the event room. He glanced down at his watch, then resumed pacing.

Ainsley was late.

He muttered a curse under his breath. He shouldn't have agreed to meet her here-he knew that. But she'd made a promise, and Ainsley always kept her word.

Usually.

Frowning, he pulled out his phone and hit call. Straight to voicemail. Again. He cursed softly and shoved the phone back into his pocket. She hadn't wanted to come tonight, and she definitely knew he'd lied about the auction. He was sure of it.

With a frustrated sigh, he turned toward the party. What was he supposed to do if she didn't show?

Last year, Ainsley had drawn the highest bid- more than any of the other women- and they had been invited to return. Unfortunately for him, Eugene won that bid. Not Leo's fault. He'd even tagged along on their bizarre date to ensure the man kept his hands to himself. Shaking his head, he smiled at the memory; he couldn't help it.

He didn't understand what was so horrible about the whole ordeal anyway. Who wouldn't want to be pampered by the city's elite? He certainly wouldn't complain. Besides, it was for a great cause.

Still, he worried for her -especially after the whole Chris debacle. She was one more bad relationship away from losing her sanity, which already seemed waning. However, if the mannequin stayed out of her business, maybe she'd stop dating guys like Chris altogether, or anyone for that matter.

Ugh...the mannequin.

He despised her. What did Ainsley even see in that ridiculous woman? And then there was Eugene. The man couldn't take a hint, not that Ainsley had ever given him one. She'd much rather hide and pretend the guy didn't exist.

A lot like most things she didn't like doing, as in-

That's it. He was going to go after her.

"Were you looking for me?" Ainsley tapped his back, amusement dancing in her voice. "You know you look a little unhinged talking to yourself."

Leo's shoulders dropped in visible relief, and she couldn't help but smile. Let him squirm a little-it served him right. She had known about this event for a week but waited until he asked; she certainly wasn't going to volunteer herself, which is why she had gone shopping at his expense. It wasn't her fault the hair appointment had run late; the shop had squeezed her in last minute when she called a few days ago. Admittedly, it had been for this weekend, but two birds, one stone.

It had been years since she'd done anything with her hair-no mother hovering, no rules to follow. The shoulder-length bob was a leap outside her comfort zone.

"You took long..." Le turned to face her, but the rest of the sentence vanished somewhere between his brain and his mouth.

She waited, eyebrows raised.

He blinked, shook his head like he was rebooting, and finally blurted, "what is that?"

The words had come out more accusatory than what he was sure he meant.

Brows furrowed, she looked down at herself. "Does it look bad?"

He nearly laughed. Bad? The idea that she could look bad looking like that was hilarious. She didn't even look like Ainsley. Realizing he was still staring, he cursed himself for sounding like a jerk and forced a smile, though something strange was happening in his chest.

"Not at all. You look-" He trailed off again, searching for the right words, still sending out one expletive after the other in his mind over his dumbfounedness. What the hell was going on with that anyway? This wasn't some hot girl he ran into off the street. She was Ainsley. His best friend. Who now looked suspiciously like someone he'd stare at from across a bar. "You look different."