Emerson:Absolutely. Also, yay for vegan sausage, but tonight I hope you get the non-vegan kind.
Katie:How can you be adorable and gross at the same time?
Emerson:It’s a talent.
Katie:Love ya! I’m off to meet a new client. Zachary is killing it with deal-making. He’s sending me to work with a venture company to do a stress-release workshop.
Emerson:Go be a badass yoga babe.
Katie:Always.
On that note, I grab my bright-red purse, tuck my phone inside it, and bound down the steps of my building to the waiting car.
“Hey, Saul,” I say to the driver.
“Hello, Miss Madigan. You’re looking spirited this morning. But then, you often are.”
“Only way to be.” I flash him a grin. He’s my regular guy—I like to use a driver when I have a ton of meetings, and today is one of those days. This way I can work as I zip around the Bay Area.
I slide into the back of the car right as my phone buzzes.
Grabbing it from my bag, I glance at the screen, and a giddy smile takes over my face. A message from the man of the day blinks at me.
Harlan:Question—would a foosball/ice cream shop work for tonight’s date? After dinner, of course.
Katie:Two of my favorite things. Three, if you count dinner. But does the shop have a good name? I require a clever name.
Harlan:Darn. The only place I found that offers two of life’s greatest treats is called…wait for it…Ye Olde Ice Cream Shoppe.
Katie:I’m so sad thinking about all the missed opportunities there. They could have called it Poles and Cones.
Harlan:Ah, good one. I was thinking Sweet Cheeks and Sticks for my future foosball/ice cream joint.
Katie:And will you serve Libido cones and cups of Desire?
Harlan:Both. All night long. That combo is on the house for you, sweetheart.
The bubble inside me cannot be burst. It’s growing bigger and glowing brighter. I clutch the phone, delighting in the messages from him. Taking time to get to know someone is going to be a blast. Bring it on, dating. Come to me, flirting. I am ready to enjoy every step of my brand-new, slow-down-and-smell-the-roses path.
I’m tapping out a reply when my phone trills.
Zachary’s name flashes across the screen. “Oh, fabulous dealmaker. Tell me things,” I say as Saul slides the car into traffic, heading south on our way to Palo Alto.
“Change of plans,” Zachary says, all cheery and caffeinated. “I called Michelle just now. She wasn’t scheduled for a class today, but I want to send her to the venture firm instead of you. BecauseI need to sendyouto a new last-minute client. Came in earlier this week and specifically requested the yoga empress.”
I adjust my imaginary tiara. “It’s good to be the queen.”
“I’m sure it is, your majesty,” he quips, then continues. “I’ve been sorting through the paperwork. The deal isn’t done yet, but they’ve seen your online videos and researched you, and Lacey—she’s the contact—was raving about the class you did last year in Los Angeles for the elite marathoners. The new client is high-profile.”
A smidgen of worry digs in, and I hope my plans for tonight aren’t about to get completely derailed. “Just tell me they aren’t in Los Angeles,” I say. Literally nothing can ruin my dayexceptthe cancellation of my long-awaited date with the man I’ve had the most chemistry with ever.
Huh.
That’s how it is with Harlan.
We have chemistry, in bed and out of it. Our attraction burns hot, and our compatibility seems off the charts.
Zachary laughs loudly. “Nope. The new client is in the city, so you actually don’t have as far to go. You’re welcome. It’s Blaine Enterprises.” A fire truck blares its sirens, and I don’t hear what Zachary says next, then sirens blast louder.
