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“That set of keys on the hooks by the door your extras?”
“Yes.”
He lifted his brows.
“Take them, honey.”
He smiled on the outside.
I smiled on the inside.
He kissed me again.
And he was gone.
* * *
On our wayto Clarice Davis’s offices, I was troubled by two things.
One, the amount of effort Luna had put into making this meeting, which included telling Tito we needed to take a few hours off and her talking the weekend shift into coming in to cover us.
Two, that Cap and I had a sixty-one-hour first date, a lot had happened, a lot had been shared, and I hadn’t told him about Clarice Davis’s visit.
Honestly, it hadn’t really crossed my mind with all that was going on.
Still.
I’d have to rectify that, even if I sensed Cap wouldn’t be a big fan of whatever this was. But it was clear we were both riding the same wavelength of what was going on between us, and I couldn’t inject subterfuge into that, not ever, really, but definitely not at our beginning.
Clarice’s offices were in a high rise two blocks down from NI&S’s Phoenix branch. Parking required validation, so Luna was sure to bring the ticket with her, and when we hit her offices on the tenth floor, even after seeing her Louboutins and Birkin bag, I was taken aback by how swish they were.
The credenza behind the reception desk was all but covered in a massive bouquet of fresh flowers, which had to have cost at least three hundred bucks, just sayin’.
Once we announced ourselves, we were immediately led back to a corner office. I was filled with trepidation, but Luna was strutting through it like she paid the lease.
“Aren’t you nervous?” I whispered to her.
“Why?” she asked. “It’s just a chat.”
Right, right.
That was all it was.
Just a chat.
We hit her office, and it was all modern glass and chrome, and lots of pristine white (including the fluffy rug that looked like fur under her desk), with Clarice sitting behind the desk, this time wearing a figure-skimming, fire-engine red dress with a notch at the collar and cap sleeves.
On her feet were patent black pumps, no red sole, but I still knew they were designer.
Seriously, the woman was top-to-toe class, but I was thrown by the fact she’d scored a primo corner office like this one. She had to be a really good lawyer or come from money to have this setup, and she didn’t look much older than us.
“Glad you came,” she said, standing but not approaching us. “Coffee? Sparkling water? Soda?” she offered.
“I’m good,” Luna told her.
“Me too,” I said.
She nodded to the receptionist, who took off without a word, then she gestured to the white leather chairs in front of her desk.
