"The perfect gentleman."
"Damn him!"Molly cursed.
"If it makes you feel better,” Claire said.“I did get a lengthy foot massage and some first-rate cuddling out of the deal."
"What is this?Junior high?I suppose he'll pass you a note at your locker later."
"We're not rushing, Molly," Claire said.
"Hold up.You almost became the newest Bond girl on his sexy sofa a few months ago and now you're not rushing it?"
"Listen, just because you hopped into bed with Hamish on your first?—"
"Oh, please,” Molly countered.“It's not like I had a choice.You can't even compare the two."
"What?Why the hell not?"Claire asked, exasperated.
"Because Hamish's meter is running.He’s an old man!Sexy as hell, but in no way a spring chicken.I only have so much time."Molly laughed, causing Claire to follow suit.“So, what's on tap for lunch today?Italian?Mediterranean?Asian?"
"Rain check.He’s got overnight business in Paris and won't be back until tomorrow afternoon.He's meeting us for dinner though."
"Twenty-four Jay-free hours?How will you ever survive?"Molly teased.
"Actually, it's more like thirty-three—not that I’m counting."
They spent a few minutes discussing party arrangements, menu selections, and the final guest list for Hamish's birthday extravaganza.In true Molly fashion, she'd taken control of the event and would transform his place from a quiet estate to an old-fashioned, classic Gatsby-esque soiree.Black tie.A twelve-piece band.Plenty of glitz and shimmer.The birthday boy decked out in his signature white dinner jacket.
"Any requests for the band?”Molly asked.“I'm making a list to send over to their manager.”
"Make sure they play plenty of slow classics,” Claire said, excited by the prospect of dancing with Jay again.“The Way You Look Tonight.Must have that one.”
After the call ended, Claire retrieved her coffee cup and made a beeline for the break room.When she returned to her office a few minutes later, she found she’d missed three texts—all from Jay.Her heart soared as she read the messages.
Jay: Good Morning!I'm leaving in about an hour but wanted to tell you again how much I enjoyed last night.It was truly An Affair to Remember.BTW, dinner was great.You're the Ina Garten of burger delivery.Looking forward to Friday night.
Jay: PS: I haven't been able to get you off my mind.
Jay: Nor have I wanted to.
The messages were short but telling.Especially the second and third texts, which she read several times.She hadn't stopped thinking about last night either.The sexy tone of his voice.The playful way he reached across the table, dipping his fry in her ketchup.The look in his eyes when he kissed her hand at the door.A look that said he wanted more.Much more.
Claire: Can I be the Bobby Flay of burger delivery?He’s my fave celebrity chef.And yes, last night was wonderful.Whoever holds the title of best foot masseuse—you’ve got him/her beat.
Sweat ran down Claire’s face as she huffed and puffed her way up the stairs.She practically fell into her flat, her arms loaded down with two weeks’ worth of dry cleaning.Her hands ached, on fire from the metal hangers digging into them.Running errands on her lunch break had been standard operating procedure for months, until Jay stepped back into her life.Now he dominated her daily lunch hour—which she loved—but things of a personal nature had taken a backseat, and she’d spent all afternoon playing catch-up.
Organizing her freshly pressed clothes into her closet triggered an avalanche of cleaning.She started with the bathroom cabinet, tossing out all abandoned cosmetics and outdated medications, which led to scrubbing her tub and tile floor.As she headed to the kitchen to tackle the refrigerator, her cell phone pinged.
Jay: Can you talk?
That warm, mushy feeling returned whenever Jay entered her orbit in any form.Instead of replying with a text, she called him back.
"Am I interrupting anything?"Jay asked.
"No, not at all,” she said."How was your day?Everything go okay with your meeting?"
"Meeting went well.I won't bore you with the details.Not when we have a date."
"A date?"Claire asked, confused.
