I don’t believe it.

I don’t trust him.

It wasn’t consensual.

Her doubt in him makes me still doubt to some degree, and I have to marvel at the way in which I seem to trust her but not a man I’ve known for far longer.

A man I have far many more ties and memories with than I do a woman I’ve known for a little less than a month. JT and I go back for years. Our parents did business together. He came to all of my ostentatious birthday parties, and I went to his. We skied together in Tahoe on winter breaks, and backpacked together in Europe. Prep school days, Stanford. Next to Caroline and Ally, he’s the person I was closest to in the world.

Beyond all of that, JT and I share a bond that Sela can’t comprehend and that is deeper than even what she and I will ever have.

A sudden spark of guilt hits me hard, that at some point I had forgotten that. When JT went off track, I just let myself get consumed by my career and building this business. I ignored his partying and turned my nose up at the Sugar Babies he’d burn through. I figured it was his due, I guess, and only when it got to a breaking point did I bother to take the fucking time to do something about it.

Maybe…just maybe if I’d paid a little bit better attention, and been a friend a little earlier, I could have pulled him back from the brink a little quicker.

“Those look like some deep thoughts, dude,” JT says, and I blink my eyes, bringing him into focus. His head is tilted, looking at me with amusement.

I shake my head and give him a confident smile. “Nah…just still thinking about the code I was reviewing.”

Not about to tell him that I’m having a hard time buying this nice-guy act.

“Remember that time you and Barry Kratzel were building that…what the fuck was that program…the one where it would measure a woman’s ability to be a one-night stand?”

I snorted and then a laugh popped out. “Yeah. We thought it was brilliant. Luckily our professor did too, but I think that was only because he was recently separated from his wife and was hoping like hell it worked.”

JT laughs right along with me, the laugh lines around his squinted eyes looking natural and without the calculation that I normally see. “I tried that stupid thing out and hooked up with that crazy girl in my econometrics class. Your fucking program told me I had a 99.3 percent chance of her not caring that I didn’t call her the next day.”

Grinning at JT, I remember that with fondness. It was a program I’d created my freshman year in a course entitled Reliable Algorithms. I used my buds in the fraternity to beta test it. It was an app where you could be out on a date, take a piss break after you’d had some time to talk to the girl, and answer a series of ten questions based on what you’d learned so far. It would then spit out odds on her being the perfect one-night stand. We didn’t really think it had much practical application outside of drunk college students, but figured it would impress our professor.

We got an A on the project.

JT banged a girl who ended up stalking him for almost a month before she finally got the hint he wasn’t interested after their one night together.

“Those were the good ol’ days,” JT says, turning his head to look out the window with a slightly regretful tone in his voice.

“Yeah, they were,” I agree softly.

JT clears his throat and stands up from the chair, turning to look back at me. “So, listen…I’ve got Sam putting together a proposal for us to consider. It’s for a start-up based out of Santa Clara, and they’re developing software that will read facial expressions.”

“I read about that a few weeks ago,” I say with a nod. “It’s supposed to analyze emotional responses consumers have to certain products.”

“Yeah…it looks very promising. I want you to take a look at it and give me your thoughts.”

I blink my eyes in surprise. JT never runs this shit past me. At first I didn’t care, because he’s the one with the MBA and is the king of investing, but it appears he may be truly trying to forge a stronger partnership with me.

“Sure, be glad to,” I say with a smile of gratitude.

“Cool,” he says, and turns toward the door. When he reaches for the knob, he turns back and says, “Are you and Sela interested in getting together for dinner sometime soon? I’d like to learn more about this woman who seems to have taken you off the market.”

I study his face carefully, trying to see if there is an ulterior motive. Perhaps sleazy intent. At the very least, too creepy of an interest. Instead, he looks back at me with open friendliness and I decide to finally give one to him.

“Yeah…that would be great,” I say with a smile. “How about Saturday?”

“Perfect,” JT says with a grin. “That will give me time to find a presentable date of the non–Sugar Baby variety.”

“Really trying to turn over a new leaf, huh?”

God, I hope that didn’t sound too shitty.

JT just laughs and nods. “I told you, bro. I’m getting my shit together, and I’m sure my mom won’t have any problem finding me a nice, young socialite with a perfect pedigree for me to bring along.”

“Sounds lovely,” I say dryly.

“Dude…you know it’s not, but I don’t want to feel like a third wheel, so I’m going to go call my mother right now.”

“Can’t wait to meet the future Mrs. Jonathon Townsend,” I say with a laugh.

JT grimaces and shakes his head, but there’s amusement on his face. “Later,” he says, and then he’s gone.

I glance at my watch. Only 3:45 p.m. and I wonder what Sela’s doing. Her classes don’t start back up until tomorrow, so I’m thinking she’s probably home all alone and needing some company. I glance back to the code, knowing I need to get this done.

Back to my watch and think of Sela.

Fuck the code. I can work on it later tonight after she falls asleep.

—
I flip through the mail as I walk to the condo door. A small cream envelope with my name and address written in emerald green calligraphy stares up at me. I grimace and open it, knowing what it is and yet still feeling compelled to read it.

The honor of your presence is requested to join Mr. and Mrs. Beckett W. North, Sr., as we celebrate the Christmas holiday with our friends and family…