IRL: In Real Life (After Oscar, #1)(37)

Wells’s face softened. “I’m sorry too. I actually am the corporate asshole everyone has made me out to be. But… that’s not necessarily who I want to be.”

As the car made its way through the crowded city streets, I thought about his words.

“Why do you do it, then?” I asked in a low voice, as if by speaking softly I wouldn’t anger the scary beast.

Wells looked out the window on his side of the car. His hands lay clasped calmly in his lap over the rich folds of his coat. Something about his hands looked familiar, and I found myself staring at them.

“It’s a long story,” he said after a moment.

I rolled my eyes. “Right. I forgot you didn’t like to talk about your personal life.” Despite the fact he’d been doing so most of the afternoon.

Wells turned to me, creases of concern marring the otherwise smooth skin of his forehead. “No, Conor. I’d like to tell you, but I’d rather wait until we sit down to eat if you don’t mind.”

His words were stilted and overly polite, another unexpected tone from him. I was beginning to feel like I’d stepped out of the Grange BioMed building and into an alternate universe.

“Here we are, sir,” Hank said from the front seat as he slid to a stop next to a narrow brown awning. “Text me when you’re finished and I’ll be by to collect you.”

We made our way upstairs into a narrow, crowded restaurant. I could tell right away from the smells inside that I would love it.

“God, it smells amazing in here. It reminds me of Chai Pani back home,” I mumbled as I unpeeled the warm layers of coat and scarf.

Wells spoke to one of the men behind the counter, who showed us to a small table in the corner immediately. From the nasty glares pointed our way, I gathered we had some kind of reservation or were receiving preferential treatment.

“Come here often?” I asked with a grin when I settled into the seat.

Was that a blush on Wells Grange’s handsome face? Now I knew I was in an alternate reality.

“Hank swings me by for takeout at least once a week.”

I looked up from the menu to gawp at him. “Why not send just him or get it delivered?”

He shrugged and looked at the menu. As if he needed to see it. Coming here so often, surely the man had the damned thing memorized. “He’d have to park the car, which is impossible. It’s a long walk from the office, but it’s right on my way home. It’s no problem for me to run up here and grab it.”

I peered out at the street, orienting myself from what I knew of the city and where the office was. “You live on the Upper East Side?”

He shrugged. “Not even that far. More like Lenox Hill. Near Bloomingdale’s if you know where that is.”

I shook my head. “I only know where some of the subway stations are. Oh, and this one game store near the Empire State Building.”

“Lexington Ave subway station. That’s my stop,” Wells said with a wink, looking back down at the menu. “Not that you’d ever catch me riding the trains.”

Was he flirting with me?

“Of course not,” I teased. “How plebeian.”

When a young woman came to take our order, I let Wells make the decisions. I was overwhelmed enough from the crowds, the city, and the nearness of such an imposing personality. The last thing I needed to add was stress over which dishes to get.

After Wells finished ordering for us, he added something unexpected. “And the usual for Hank, please. To go. Thanks, Angel.”

I stared at him in disbelief. This man who didn’t seem to notice or care about many of the people around him had just gone out of his way to get food for his driver. And apparently did so often enough that there was a usual dish he ordered.

He must have misunderstood the look on my face.

“What? Her actual name is Angel. Don’t look at me like that. I’m not a creep.”

After I finished laughing, I clasped the metal cup of cold water in front of me before biting the bullet and asking what I really wanted to know. “Do we have time for your long story?”

Wells smiled and sat back in his chair. When that man broke out a real smile, it was enough to start excited bees buzzing in my stomach.

“The short version is I trusted the wrong person.”

I thought back to what I’d asked him. “Wait… that’s the story behind why you’re a corporate asshole?”

Wells’s long fingers forked through his hair as he coughed out a laugh. “Pretty much. I mean, I was always competitive, don’t get me wrong. I worked my ass off in school and graduated with high marks. Earned my way into the Ivy League for both undergraduate and my master’s. But while I was in business school, I met a guy in my apartment complex named Mark. We quickly became best friends and were interested in the same type of business challenges, took several of the same classes. We graduated and started a company together based on a business plan we’d created for one of our entrepreneurship courses.”

Hearing about Wells as a student was strange. It was hard to picture him without the mantle of corporate success around him.

A server delivered us bowls of soup and refilled our water cups before hustling away again. Wells took a taste of soup before speaking. I ignored the way his throat moved as he swallowed. Or at least tried to. But the man had a beautiful neck. In fact, he had a beautiful everything. If I allowed myself to follow that train of thought, it might lead me somewhere I didn’t want to go, so I forced it from my head and focused on Wells’s story instead.