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“Was the barista cute?”
“He was, actually. But I was stalking a man because his name was Jasper! I don’t even know the real name of the guy the woman in my diary is having an affair with.”
“What Starbucks was it? A hot, gay barista sounds more up my alley than yours.”
I chuckled. “Seriously, Fisher. What was I going to do after waiting two hours for that poor guy to get off of work? Follow him all the way home?”
“You’re starting to sound a little obsessive.”
I sighed. “That’s what Aiden said. We recently had a fight because my phone was dead. I’d forgotten to put it on the charger, and when I went to look for his cell to text you to tell you I’d be late for dinner, I realized he never leaves his phone around anymore. It made me suspicious because of how paranoid Alexandria is about getting caught, and Aiden and I wound up arguing. He’d done nothing wrong.”
Fisher shook his head. “Maybe you should take a little break from reading.”
I finally opened the container of salad I’d made for lunch. Stabbing a fork into it, I sighed. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”
Fisher snort-laughed. “You’re so full of shit.”
CHAPTER 14
Hudson
Our lunch meeting had turned into a party. Robyn, the host of the show, invited her co-host and a segment producer, the head buyer was bringing someone along, and Jack had also decided to grace us with his presence. With so many people, and Stella wanting to bring sample boxes for everyone, I drove to make it easier. My car was parked at a garage a few blocks away from the office, so I left early and told Stella to meet me downstairs in fifteen minutes.
She was waiting in front of the building when I pulled up to the light at the corner. It gave me a chance to watch her without her knowing. Two large flowerpots sat on either side of the main entrance to the office. They were old wine barrels, and I’d never given them much thought, though I passed them every day, other than to notice that building maintenance changed the flowers out every so often. I watched from a distance as Stella looked around, almost as if to see if anyone was paying attention, and then leaned over. I’d thought she was going to smell the flowers, but she bent lower and brought her nose to the barrel beneath. Did she just smell the pot?
I chuckled to myself at how nutty she was. Anytime I thought I knew what she was going to say or do, I quickly found my assumption wrong. It was oddly refreshing. Within five minutes of meeting most women, I could guess the salad they were going to order, or that yoga or tennis was their hobby of choice. But not Stella—there was nothing cookie-cutter about her.
She stepped over to the flowerpot on the other side of the doorway and again checked to see if the coast was clear before going in for a sniff. Only this time, she didn’t bend at the knees. She bent in half at the waist. Which gave me an unobstructed view of her ass—her phenomenal freaking ass.
Great. Just great.
I nailed the gas as soon as the light changed and pulled up in front of the building. I’d brought the boxes downstairs to the lobby before I went to the parking garage, so I got out and headed inside.
“Why don’t you get in since I’m double parked, and I’ll grab the stuff from security?” I told her as I passed.
“Oh…okay.”
After I finished loading the trunk, I slammed it shut and waited for traffic to slow enough so I could open the driver’s side door and get in without being clipped.
“Thank you for taking care of that,” Stella said.
“Of course.”
I buckled. “We have an hour before we have to be at the restaurant, but it’ll probably take us almost that long with this traffic.” Looking over my shoulder, it took a while before there was a gap in the cars big enough to pull away from the curb.
Stella sniffed a few times. “Is this brand new?”
My car was actually three years old, but it looked new since I didn’t drive very much.
“It’s a few years old.”
“It still has that new-car smell.”
“Oh yeah? Do you like that smell better than the flowerpots outside the office?”
Stella sighed. “You caught that, huh?”
“I did indeed.”
“I was curious if they were actually aged barrels once used for wine.”
“Were they?”
“I’m not sure. All I could smell was dirt.”
I smirked. “Large quantities of soil tend to smell that way.”
“What kind of a car is this? The interior is so pretty.”
“It’s a Maybach S 650.”
“Is that an impressive car?”
“I don’t know. You tell me. Are you impressed?”
She smiled. “Not really. I don’t drive, so I don’t know too much about cars.”
