Shit.
CHASE
THERE WAS A NOTEON THE BULLETINboard where mine had been. I’d used red marker, and this one was in blue. It very clearly saidTo 301.
Oh, goodie. We were passing notes like we were in kindy-garten again.
Plucking it off the wall, I headed into the apartment. I chuckled as I dropped my messenger bag on the floor by the door. I hadn’t brought any work home that night, because I’d managed to finish most everything I had on my desk on deadline.
Also, Felix had been out, so I didn’t have to deal with his sniping. That was a relief. I hated that we shared that cube. There was nothing about that man that was likeable and I was over it.
Looking at the note in my hand, I made myself a promise to go talk to management about changing my desk location. There had to be another open desk on the floor where I didn’t have to deal with Gayzilla all day.
Opening the paper, I found my neighbor’s response to the damn barking dog.
Dear 301,
Pollux is a willful, free spirit and I cannot contain his joy and delight at simple things like bugs, curtains and air moving around his head. I would not want to contain it, because it is joy on an ethereal level. Sorry if he barks.
Your Neighbor 302 and Pollux
The dog was named Pollux.
And my neighbor was an arrogant jerk.
Under the note was a more than serviceable drawing of a much smaller dog than the German shepherd I’d imagined, leaping off the ground with his idiot tongue hanging out, and look of pure, stupid, doggy bliss on his face. His leash swung free, he wore a crown of flowers, and there was a fire hydrant on the other side from the leash.
Well, Neighbor 302 could draw, I’d give them that. And I’d give them another night with Pollux the Wunderhund. It was all my sanity could afford between the dog and Felix.
Glancing at the clock, I gasped. I didn’t have a lot of time to get ready. Grabbing my phone out of my pocket I checked the text messages.
I let out a breath of relief.
Kieran: Hey, sexy. You ready for this?
I smiled and wrote back.Been ready.
He and I had been chatting for nearly two months, at first just online, then through text and just two weeks ago, we actually moved up to the phone. We were clicking in a major way and tonight we got to try our in-person chemistry.
Kieran had been so patient with me. It was one of the worst things about me—that I had to form a personal connection or sex didn’t happen. He’d been willing to do that, and there were not many men who would.
I could not wait. I needed to get laid and soon. My right wrist was sore and even my left hand was getting familiar at this point. I was feeling good about the two of us working well together, and just maybe I might get myself a boyfriend. Finally.
I rushed through my refresh and clean up, and rushed out the door. I was going to have to take the time to come up with a witty retort to the neighbor’s message at some point, but right now, I just ran down the stairs and out to the subway to catch the train.
I’d lived in New York City for five years and I’d never been to Delmonico’s. I had been dying to go the whole time. Kieran suggested it because if we didn’t hit it off, at least we would have had a date at one of the oldest and best restaurants in the city. We’d even agreed to go half because it wasn’t a cheap place and we both had rent to pay.
I laughed at the rent again. Poor Noah. We’d actually all wound up giving him about fifty dollars apiece to help him recover a bit. He wasn’t hard up for cash, but that had been an unfair situation and none of us wanted him to have to tap his savings for his rent.
We all paid through the ass to stay in Manhattan. It still wasn’t as bad as Brooklyn, and while some of my friends were doing okay over in Jersey, we were all paying exorbitant rents. It was easy to see why people moved way out.
I’d lucked into my place, just below Bleaker near Washington Square, so the ride to the restaurant wasn’t going to be very far or long. A quick walk to the Bleaker stop and down five to Wall Street, then two blocks more on foot. Easy peasy.
Standing just outside the restaurant was Kieran, looking like a perfect gentleman. He looked exactly like his pictures and I was glad. It meant I’d lucked into a fairly honest—and hot—guy.
“Chase?” He perked up as I approached, and a smirk graced his lips.
“Kieran,” I said, sticking my hand out for him to shake.
