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“I’ll see you later. Call me,” she purred, slinging her purse over her shoulder and wiggling her fingers in a wave.
“Sure,” I said, grabbing a paper towel and wiping my mouth. I left the restroom a few minutes later to find Rob waiting on the other side of the door.
He shook his head and fell into step beside me as we walked down the hall. “What?” I asked innocently.
“In the public restroom, Jer? Really? You have no shame. None at all.” Robert Jenkins was clearly not amused. Rob and I were polar opposites in every single way except one. We were both damn good attorneys.
Rob was straight edge and frankly, boring as hell. Though I personally believed all that buttoned-up repression had to be hiding something dark and maybe a little twisted because there was no way anyone could be that dull and still be breathing. He must have a secret life that neither Adam nor I knew about. Otherwise, he was just plain sad.
“She was willing and I’m not one to say no.” I shrugged and popped a mint in my mouth. I had a deposition in fifteen minutes and Rob was headed to divorce mediation. We both had jam-packed schedules for the day, so this was the most we’d speak until much later.
Rob made a noise of disgust, which I ignored. I knew that even though he didn’t approve of my “extracurricular activities,” he never held it against me. He and Adam were good friends. “She’s in the District Attorney’s office. That is potentially very messy.”
He had a good point. Mixing sex and work was bad business but I knew for a fact that I wasn’t the only notch on Sheila Moore’s bedpost. But she wasn’t one to fuck and tell. I respected that about her.
“You don’t need to worry about Sheila.” I patted Rob’s cheek patronizingly. “But thank you for looking out for me, buddy.” Rob swatted my hand away and I laughed.
He held up a hand in greeting as he caught sight of his client, an older woman with red-rimmed eyes and frizzy blonde hair. “I’ve got to get going, but don’t forget about dinner tonight.”
Ah, the dinner. As if I could forget. My stomach did that strange clenching thing that I purposefully ignored. “Sure, dinner. I’ll be there.”
Rob raised an eyebrow as if sensing my mood change at the mention of the dinner that had been planned for weeks. “You bringing a date?” he asked.
“I hadn’t planned on it,” I told him.
“Greta finally out of the picture?” Robert asked, referring to my on-again/off-again fuck buddy. Greta Hayes was perfect for a dirty romp in the sheets, but not for a work function.
“I don’t think this would be Greta’s thing. We don’t usually do... dinner,” I answered suggestively. “What about you? Anything on the radar?” I said it more as a wisecrack. For as long as I had known Rob, he had never taken a woman out on a date, let alone had a relationship. Sometimes I wondered if the poor guy was still a virgin. I had joked to Adam once about hiring Rob a hooker.
“Leave him alone, Wyatt. There’s nothing wrong with Rob. Not everyone goes through women like underwear,” Adam had said. Though he had acted as if he were kidding, there was a punch of judgment that I didn’t miss.
Rob gave me a bland look that was all the answer I needed. One day I’d figure out what was up with him. But today wasn’t that day. “Adam made reservations at The Grove for 8:30. Don’t be late for once.”
I feigned indignation. “Where’s the trust, Rob? Seriously.”
Rob didn’t bother to respond, walking away from me toward his waiting client.
**
I arrived at the restaurant at 8:29.
Take that, Jenkins!
I straightened my tie and got out of my tiny sports car, bumping my head on the ceiling as I untangled my legs. I was a tall guy and the Porsche Boxster—a total splurge on my part—wasn’t forgiving to a dude with long legs. But the chicks loved it.
I went around to the passenger side and held the door open for Sheila. She took my hand and carefully got out of the car. And didn’t let go. She clung to my hand as if I were going to run away. Which wasn’t out of the realm of possibility at this point.
I was already berating myself for inviting her. It was a spontaneous decision of the most idiotic order. I had originally thought I’d be fine without the buffer. But as the day wore on and the dinner drew closer, my nerves got the best of me and I had texted Sheila with the invite. I figured she knew Rob and Adam, so she wasn’t the worst choice for a date.
Plus, you know, buffer.
I handed the keys to the valet and extracted my hand from Sheila’s grip. “You’re cutting off the circulation,” I joked with an edge to my tone. Sheila was smart enough to know when to give me space, which is one of the reasons I felt it safe to bring her. Plus, she looked good. She was dressed tastefully in a long black dress and high heels. We moved in the same professional circles, so I didn’t worry that she’d be a liability.
