Complications

Ally strolled back to the apartment, a bag of groceries under each arm, Holly's cleaning slung over her shoulder, humming an off-key yet still amazingly jaunty tune that petered out abruptly when she spied a black stretch limo parked at the curb. When Eric poured out of the back seat to greet her, she sent up a thousand silent curses. What the hell was he doing here? And why did he have to show up when she was wearing baggy jeans, her oldest, grubbiest t-shirt and no makeup whatsoever?

"Hey," she managed to croak, forcing a weak smile. "To what do I owe this honor?"

"You left something behind last night." He held up her Blackberry, slipping it in the side pocket of her shoulder bag once he saw that she had her hands full.

"Thanks. I appreciate you bringing it by in person, but you could've just Fedexed it."

"I figured you'd want to get it back as quickly as possible. I wouldn't last five minutes without my phone."

She laughed. "Mine's not exactly ringing off the hook these days. To be honest, I hadn't even noticed it was missing." The groceries were getting a bit heavy; she was about to set the bags down on the sidewalk when Eric's driver stepped forward and took them from her. "U-Um, how did you know I was living here now?" she asked, her gaze darting anxiously from the driver back to Eric.

"The cab driving off in the wrong direction last night was my first clue," Eric replied with a smile. "Then when I showed up at your old apartment a little while ago and saw that you weren't listed on the directory, I looked up Holly's number on your phone and gave her a call."

"I see." So now he knew she was not only out of a job, but reduced to sacking out on her best friend's couch. Oh, for a crack in the pavement to crawl through! "Well...thanks for coming so far out of your way. Like I said, I appreciate it."

She was about to turn tail and bolt up the building's front steps, groceries be damned, when Eric's hand closed gently but firmly over her arm. "Let James help you carry everything inside."

"That's not necessary," she snapped. "I can manage fine by myself."

"I know you can. But there's no shame in asking for help when you need it."

Ally hadn't felt so horrible about her situation until now. Accepting Holly's aid was one thing - they'd been friends since college, and she knew Holly would never think less of her for it. But Eric's offer struck her like a fist to the gut, making her realize how sad and pathetic she must look to him. Her eyes stung, but she blinked hard, channeling the tears into brittle laughter. "Th-that's funny, coming from Mr. Self-Sufficient himself."

"You think I haven't been at the end of my rope? Believe me, I have. I'm sure Nick must have told you what happened the year my mother died."

Jesus, why the hell didn't he just go? "What's that got to do with me?"

"Nothing. Everything. I don't know." Eric shrugged, looking away for a moment, and suddenly Ally saw the weariness - and the loneliness - beneath his veneer of casual indifference. "But I'd hate to see you tumble down the same rabbit-hole I ended up in. I wouldn't wish that misery even on my own father, and I wasn't exactly his greatest fan."

She didn't know what to say to that, but she knew she had to say something. "It's really not that bad. I've got a roof over my head and all the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches I can eat. It's sweet of you to want to help, but I haven't reached the point of utter desperation yet."

"All right." He nodded, fixing her with an intense blue gaze that turned everything from her knees down to water. "But I'd count it as a favor if you'd have dinner with me this evening."

"Why?"

"Because I'd rather not go home tonight and drink myself into a stupor again. Think you can help me with that?"

A thousand lame excuses swirled around in her addled brain, but when he flashed her that roguish smirk that had made her want to slap him so many times in the past, her last molecule of resistance dissolved. "Okay, you win. But it can't be one of your fancy five-star eateries. I don't have anything appropriate to wear."

"I know just the place. Pick you up at seven?"

"Seven it is."

Eric still insisted on his driver helping her in with her packages. This time she didn't kick up a fuss, although her stomach plummeted when Eric stepped inside for a moment and saw the rumpled bedding piled on the couch. Afterward, she snuck a glance out the front window as the limo pulled away from the curb, a tiny, anxious flutter springing to life inside her.

She had the distinct feeling she was doomed.