Have you moved on from ruining my life?
CHAPTER 11
The Alderton-Du Ponte lobby felt so sleepy on Wednesday night.
It always did this time of evening, though. Most of the golfers here came in the morning, and there were only a few gym-goers going in and out while I’d been sitting in the lobby. The only other person with me was the receptionist, and every few minutes, I could hear the quietflickof her magazine page as the soft piano music played through the fixed speakers.
I glanced at the clock on the wall. Five minutes until six-thirty. Thirty-five minutes until Jamie’s book club would be finished. An hour and thirty-five minutes until Alderton-Du Ponte closed.
The automatic doors slid wide, and Carter Pembleton hurried through them. He wore his signature outfit of chinos and a polo, with his hair neat and tidy. He had a bag slung over his shoulder.
“You’re late,” I told him, keeping my voice light.By twenty-five minutes.
“Maybe these can save me?” Carter pulled out a five-flower bouquet from behind his back, wrapped in a couple of pieces of tissue paper. It wasn’t elaborate by any means, but the flowers were at least vibrant. He gave me a remorseful smile. “I had to stop at a few places, and these were all I found. I swear I wanted to bring you better ones.”
I took the bouquet, torn between amused and uncomfortable. At least they weren’t roses. “You shouldn’t have let Jamie bully you into buying flowers.
“I—I wanted to get them.”
The receptionist had lifted her head from her magazine, clearly thinking she’d find us more entertaining.
“Come on,” I told Carter, squeezing the plastic-wrapped stems in my hand. “This way.”
Readjusting his bag strap at his shoulder, Carter matched my pace easily. “I’m glad you invited me to keep you company.”
“I’m glad you were available.” I glanced at his bag. “And that I can be a special guest.”
He grinned.
I led him down the hallway and into the small game room. There were a few tables with boxes of board games stacked up at the ends, a few bookshelves along the far wall, but the spot I beelined for was the chess table underneath the windows. There was a pretty view of the sunset beyond it, since it was a west-facing window, and it’d make for the perfect backdrop.
The only problem was that it overlooked perfectly out into the serenity garden—the one I refused to even glance at.
“This is going to be perfect.” Carter set his bag down on the table beside the chessboard, unloading it. He pulled out a black tripod and then an even smaller bag—his camera bag. “With the sun setting, and the bright lights in here, the quality should be really good.”
His voice was the strongest I’d ever heard it. “It’s cool to see this side of things,” I told him, watching as he twisted his camera onto the tripod. I knew nothing about cameras or equipment, but Carter’s fingers moved deftly around it, the sign of someone who’d spent years dedicated to a craft. “I kind of want to geek out over it.”
“If you think this is cool, how cool is it going to be to be taking part in it?” Carter lifted his eyes to mine, the blue soft. “Miss and Mr. ASMR.”
I couldn’t help it—I snorted. “People will wonder who this mystery girl is,” I murmured as I sat down at one side of the chess table. I turned the bouquet over. “They’ll wonder about the flowers in the frame. They’ll think you’re on a date.”
Carter came over with a small microphone, setting it on the opposite side of the chessboard, out of view of the camera. “Aren’t I?”
“Is this a date?”
“Oh, uh. Is it not?”
“I thought dates made you nervous.” I arched a brow. “Besides, do you normally go on dates where you can’t talk?”
Once he’d start recording, we’d have to be silent, letting the atmosphere around us speak. That was part of what made Mr. ASMR’s channel so comforting: he never spoke. He’d softly sigh, or sniff, or swallow, but he’d never speak.
Carter’s smile was sheepish. “Touché.”
I continued watching him set up. He hooked another small microphone on top of the camera, plugging it in. Anything to distract me from the view right out the window.
“I’m not very good at chess,” he told me.
“Then your loyal fans will watch me win.”
