Keeley enjoyed her sandwich and soda, despite the taciturn food-bringer beside her. How had she ever liked someone who talked so little? The silences between them, once comfortable, now felt incredibly awkward.

"So, what do I owe you for the food?" she asked, taking a long slurp of her soda. She intended to pay him back.

"Marshmallow brownies. Nobody ever bakes for me," Aaron said resolutely.

She raised an eyebrow. "Doesn't your food delivery service offer desserts?"

"Yes, but it isn't the same."

"Not the same how? A professional caterer probably makes better brownies than you do," she thought, but decided against arguing.

"Alright, I'll get those to you at some point. Why don't I bring them by your office—"

"NO!"

Keeley stared at him, unblinking. That was a strong reaction. After all these years, he was still too ashamed to let her meet his colleagues. It stung more than it should have.

Aaron collected himself. "It would be more convenient for you not to go out of your way, since you don't have a car. Your schedule is more hectic than mine; I'll come to you."

"O…kay?"

He reached out and held her hands, his expression surprisingly earnest.

"I'm not ashamed of you, I promise. If you ever want to meet my coworkers, I'd be happy to introduce you over dinner or drinks sometime."

He seemed to have read her mind. But why was he so concerned about what she thought? His tone sounded…boyfriend-like. Bothersome.

She pulled her hands away. "You hang out with your coworkers outside of work?"

"I'm on friendly terms with a few shareholders, but I only interact with two outside of that. Everyone else is afraid of me. Those two…they could use a little more fear in their lives."

Keeley almost choked on her soda. The image of anyone messing with Aaron was hilarious.

"Would one of those be the coworker who recommended Happy Paws?"

"Yes."

As far as Keeley could tell, Aaron didn't have close friends. He didn't even socialize with his lunch group outside of work. He didn't seem to value companionship, which made her feel special that he'd given her the time of day back then. Now, though, it seemed like a joke. She was just like the rest.

Intrigued, she asked, "Did you know these people before they worked at Hale Investments, or did you become friends through work?"

"I met one at Harvard. The other…we actually met online," he admitted.

Keeley was surprised. It seemed he'd gotten them jobs. Oddly sentimental.

"You gave them jobs because they were your friends?"

Aaron shook his head disdainfully.

"I'm a businessman; I gave them jobs because they're useful, highly competent individuals. One's the manager of the analyst department after only four years, and the other joined IT straight out of high school—he's that good with computers."

That sounded more like Aaron. The difference between them and her: they were useful. Keeley's usefulness had expired long ago—that's why he'd discarded her.

Her mood soured. Being around him always brought back bad feelings. She preferred texting.

"Right," she said neutrally, hiding her annoyance. If she wasn't friendly, he'd pester her even more—a lesson learned the hard way in high school.

Keeley stood and brushed herself off.

"Well," she said coolly, "I won't have time to make those brownies until after Halloween, so I'll drop them off at your place. I need to get back to work."

Aaron stood. "Dinah will be happy to see you."

He held out his arms for a hug, and she knew from experience that he'd grab her if she didn't comply. Touchy-feely weirdo.

She hugged him quickly, then hurried back to the lab. That was the price of food. And she had to see him again in a week. Suddenly, going hungry seemed preferable.

Aaron felt pleased. His plan was working. Giving her space while remaining a regular presence had paid off—she'd approached him first!

Her text replies had been encouraging, but her initiating a request was undeniably exciting. She was relying on him. His role as her best friend was solidifying.

Plus, he'd gotten a promise of marshmallow brownies. A productive day.

He'd nearly slipped up when she suggested bringing the brownies to his office. The thought of her meeting his father, Alistair Hale, panicked him. Alistair couldn't know about her yet. A woman bringing him dessert would be suspicious.

But if she came to his apartment…he'd need an excuse to keep her longer.

Texting daily wasn't the same as seeing her, but it was better than nothing. He'd made more progress in four months of limited contact than in six months of daily interaction at school. Letting her have her space and being a supportive friend from the sidelines had worked.

He wouldn't stay on the sidelines forever, though. He was certain he could win her over within a year. Then he wouldn't be alone. Things would finally be as they should have been.