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No one on the van ride to Atlanta could believe Zoe hadn’t stayed in Southwood for one more evening with Will. Kenzie, the main person rooting for a union between Will and Zoe, asked everyone to cut Zoe some slack. Luke sat in the van and ticked off a list of the places he freelanced for that were interested in her work for the same position. Zoe needed to come up with a new plan, and this time it might include having to move and try resettling someplace else. She sighed heavily and reached for the stack of mail on her counter, still hating the idea of leaving. Where else would she find a neighbor willing to drop off her mail while she was out of town?
A soft knock came at the door. She figured it was either Mr. or Mrs. Doherty, coming to check on her after all the noise she’d made coming inside. Without thinking, she opened the door. It took several blinks for her eyes to adjust to the image in front of her.
On top of her heart breaking, it now melted. Will, still in his suit, leaned against the jamb. The first three buttons at his neck were undone and the tie hung loose. A rustle of plastic caught her attention. Down by his side he held a takeout bag sporting the red, black and white of the Trinidad and Tobago flag.
“You went to Trudy’s?”
“I called it in. We were supposed to have our first official date when we got back to Miami, Zoe,” Will said with a calm voice. “We couldn’t decide on Monday or tonight, so I chose now.”
“I’m not hungry,” she lied. The delicious scents caused her mouth to water.
“I don’t understand. I didn’t peg you for a sore loser.”
Of all the audacity in the world! Zoe’s mouth widened as a few choice words came to mind about Will and his nerve. “Sore loser?” she hissed. “How did you even know what apartment I live in?” The locks on her neighbor’s door clicked and Patrick Doherty poked his red head out. “Sorry to wake you, Patrick.”
“Everything okay?”
For a moment Zoe wondered if she needed to get rid of Will. He may have arrived with dinner but the way his eyes bored into her soul unnerved her. “I’m okay, thanks for asking.”
After a reluctant few seconds, filled with five-foot-eight Patrick sizing up Will’s six-four frame, her neighbor nodded and went back inside his place. Zoe stepped back and allowed plenty of space for Will to enter her apartment.
“Your address was on your résumé,” Will answered her. As he passed, she couldn’t help but be mesmerized by his powerful stride. He went straight to the open kitchen and set the bag down. Fragrant aromas from the Trinidadian chicken stew filled the air.
Despite the rumble in her stomach, Zoe leaned against the counter and folded her hands. “Why are you here?”
“We have a date.” Will helped himself to a view inside her refrigerator and shook his head. “This is funny.”
“You’re mocking the contents of my fridge?” Zoe squared her shoulders.
“I’m laughing at yet another thing we have in common.” Will widened the door. “We have matching contents.”
Zoe rolled her eyes to keep from grinning.
Will closed the door and turned to lean over the counter. He covered her hands with his. “I’m sorry with the way things ended with the CDD position, Zoe.”
“It is what it is. And you warned me you weren’t interested in my work.” The key word in there was “work.” There was no doubting his attraction to her. Zoe thought about her newly discovered feelings. Somehow, this was not the moment to confess she was in love with him. Anger and disappointment still seethed within.
“Don’t act like that,” said Will. “The board put the restrictions on me this morning. They specified that the makeup artist who did the winner would get the position. I’ve watched you work with the staff and crew at Magnolia Palace and I’ve learned to appreciate your work. I even was sure I knew your work. I looked for all the ladies with the drastic winged liner you do. I was sure Waverly was yours.”
“Well, she wasn’t,” Zoe snapped. “She was Titus’s. Of all people, she was Titus’s.”
“So are you mad at me for not voting the right person?” Will asked, squeezing her hand. His dark eyes pleaded with hers.
