Lola’s gaze meets mine, and she swallows before looking at Daniel again. “We aren’t. We keep running into each other…pure coincidence.” Her tone lightens, and she glances at me again.
“Yeah, I bet,” Daniel says.
His tone is sharp enough that I turn to glance at him.
“I actually should go,” she says. “You’ve got…things to do. Tully, it was…good to see you again.”
“What? No. You’re not leaving—we were?—”
“Yes, please. Don’t let me interrupt you.” Daniel stares at Lola. When she doesn’t say anything, his eyes narrow. “Well, I’m glad I didn’t miss this one. You played a great game out there, Tully.” He tilts his head back and looks at me. “Got a few minutes? I’d like to talk to you about something real quick.”
I shoot Lola an apologetic look. “Don’t leave, please. Will you stay?”
She presses her lips together and looks away before nodding.
“Just a few minutes, okay?” I say to Daniel. “I don’t want to keep Lola waiting.”
“She’ll be fine. Won’t you, Lola?” Daniel says.
Her cheeks flush slightly, and she nods. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”
Daniel and I move out of hearing range, and I turn on him.
“What was that?” I ask.
“What?” he says, his face wiped clear of expression.
“Your attitude with Lola.”
“I don’t know what you mean. I didn’t have an attitude with Lola.”
“You definitely did. It was weird.”
He tugs on the collar of his shirt. “I just don’t want you to get hurt by her again. She never seemed good enough for you anyway.”
“I pay you for your expertise on my career, not my love life,” I say under my breath. “Now, did you have something you needed to talk to me about?”
His voice is tight when he responds. “We can talk about it tomorrow.”
I nod. “Okay. Works for me. Thanks for coming tonight.”
I walk away, the unease building when I see Lola looking like she might bolt.
“Hey. Sorry about that,” I say.
“No, don’t worry about it.” She watches Daniel walk away, and when she looks back at me, she blinks like she’s coming out of a fog. “He still keeps you on a short leash.”
“He likes to think so. Is it too late to get something to eat?” I ask.
She looks around, her fingers tugging her shirt.
“I don’t know…if this is such a good idea,” she says.
“You agreed to see me tonight. I want to talk.”
“I’m not sure it’ll do any good,” she whispers.
“Let’s do it anyway.”