Jordan simply nodded and followed the rest of the crowd into Charlotte's living room for coffee and desserts. Chef Marco made all kinds of little cake things for the group as his crew packed up in the kitchen. The four of them sat around and talked about hockey or tried to give Charlotte ideas for places to visit in the area. Jordan was particularly impressed by Aiden's knowledge of the Pirates players and his ability to eat his weight in pastries.
"This was quite a dinner, Charlotte," Adam said as the night began to wind down. "Well worth the money you had to pay to get Jordan here."
"I feel like I did have to turn the charm up tonight considering how much Miss Stone shelled out, eh?" he replied with a little Canadian seeping into his sentence.
"I was just happy everyone could come."
"And with that, I think it's time for us to leave," Rachel said. "Although I may need some help."
The crew turned to see Aiden had fallen asleep on her lap. Apparently, meeting Jordan was exhausting even after all the sugar he consumed in the past hour. Adam stood and scooped his slumbering son off the couch. "Good night," Adam whispered as his wife draped a small coat over their son. "It was nice to meet you, Jordan."
Jordan nodded in thanks and let Charlotte say her last goodbyes to the guests as he politely headed off to a corner of her living room to make a phone call. The Pirates' head of public relations had sent him an email earlier in the day practically demanding he use the team's car service for dinner tonight instead of driving himself.
Charlotte was closing the door behind the cooking crew for the night when he finally finished the call. It was now just the two of them — alone.
"Car service," he explained as he slid his phone into his pocket.
"So they're here now?"
"No. I'm going to head to the lobby and wait there," he replied slowly, hoping maybe she would be the consummate host and invite him to stick around a little longer instead.
"Oh, you can just stay here."
Yep, definitely predicable.
"Besides," Charlotte added, "my doorman couldn't stop talking about you coming over tonight. He'll just embarrass himself in your presence."
He gave her a small laugh. "Wouldn't be the first time."
"So do you usually use a car service?" she asked. "It seems so uncommon here compared to New York."
"No, but a player in Los Angeles was arrested a few weeks ago for a DUI so our press guy was pretty adamant that I use it just in case," he explained. "Declan Reed is such a jackass."
"What?" Charlotte asked quickly.
"Declan Reed. He's the player who was arrested. Total jerk on the ice and off of it too."
He noticed Charlotte look down quickly to stare at her feet. "Gotcha."
Jordan couldn't figure out what had changed, but something was suddenly off. Did she not like car services? Or Declan Reed? He wouldn't blame her if she wasn't a fan of his — no one was, really — but it seemed like quite a dramatic response to some random hockey goon. He figured it was best to find a way to quickly change the subject.
"So did you design this place yourself?"
"Yeah, sort of," she said, a smile returning to her face. "I had an architect help out, but all the stuff in it is mine."
"Cool, cool," he tried to say casually.
"You know, since you're waiting, I could give you a tour."
He smiled at her, internally congratulating himself for getting the conversation back to more positive territory. "I'd love to know what you've done with it."
Charlotte nodded her head, directing Jordan to follow her as she began pointing to various rooms in the penthouse. "This is the kitchen — you've seen that already." They continued to walk on with her telling him stories about the construction process or the art she had chosen or where the guest bedrooms were. "And that's my bedroom in there."
Jordan stopped, raising an eyebrow in her direction. "I don't get to see your bedroom?" he asked in a mocking hurt tone.
"Maybe next time," she replied curtly.
The tone of her response told him there would likely not be a next time, but he couldn't help himself from hoping.
