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He continues when I raise an eyebrow. He’s never been that concerned about rules before.
“She’s drop dead sexy. She has made me think about breaking the rules more than anyone else has before though. So, shit. It’s Sunday, let’s get drunk and maybe I’ll get lucky. I hear she’s moving to Paris soon anyway, so whatever.”
I look at him and have to fight a laugh. Louis can be such an asshole. He’s rich and titled and women throw themselves at him. He’s got this persona-- slightly rude, disinterested- that he uses to ward them off. But when he is interested, he has charm in spades that I’ve never seen anyone successfully resist. I don’t know Cara, but she might be in trouble.
We cross the street to the restaurant and I’m relieved I don’t see Addie and Cara anywhere yet. I get us a table for four and we order coffee.
“So tell me about this woman who has got you out for brunch on a Sunday when we should be at the pub watching footie?”
I sit back in my chair and sigh. “Man, I don’t even know. You were with me when I met her for the first time. Then I saw her again a month ago when she was lost in the Grove, and I ran into her again last night again.”
“Does she know about Henry and Ashley?” Louis is one of the few friends I’ve clued in on my new situation.
“No. And honestly, I’m not sure I’ll tell her. She’s fucking gorgeous and there is something about her. God knows I don’t have time for a relationship right now. But I can’t stop thinking about her, man. When I saw her last night, I decided to throw caution to the wind, you know? She gave me her number. I called her. Here we are.”
Louis’ eyes dart over my shoulder. “Well, the stone cold foxes who just walked in are our dates. So try to act like you’re not a total git and don’t blow this for me either.”
I turn around to look at Addie. She’s with Cara, who is a doppelganger for Eva Mendez—if Eva Mendez was platinum blonde. Yet, she doesn’t hold a candle to Addie in my eyes.
Just looking at her is mind-blowing. She is wearing her hair down again, but this time it’s an absolute mess of curls—they fly every which way. She is wearing hardly any make up from what I can tell, but her lips have a coat of some sort of pink gloss, making them look like they are begging to be kissed. She is wearing one of those romper things girls love these days. All one piece, bright yellow and so short, I am sure if she bends over, I’d get a glimpse of her ass. Her tits look luscious and my mouth waters at the same time I feel my cock waking up. I notice that she is wearing that gold fern pendant around her neck, up close it is delicate yet striking.
We both stand up as they approach our table.
“Simon. Hi.” She reaches forward to place a kiss on my cheek and I get a whiff of her. She smells good enough to eat—all vanilla and frosty peppermint. I sit down quickly because my cock has gone from drowsy to red-bull-awake in three and half seconds.
“You remember Cara, right?” she continues as she sits down next to me.
“Yes, of course. Since Louis here has lost his manners, I’ll introduce myself.”
I reach out to shake Cara’s hand. She is grinning down at me like we have an inside joke of some sort. She looks like a naughty sprite and the gleam in her eye is fully of mischief. I look at Louis to continue my joke, but he is already rounding the table to push Cara’s seat in for her as she sits down.
Cara’s smile gets even wider—if that’s even possible. “Well, hi there, Louis. I didn’t know you were such a gentleman. Thank you.” I think she is blushing.
“Oh, Cara, I’ve got many layers to peel back. You just wait.” Louis returns with a wink.
Addie rolls her eyes at the same time I do and ours eyes meet. We share a grin at their flirtation.
“So, Addie, what brings you to this side of the pond?” Louis asks. Addie starts to answer at the same time Cara leans over to ask me with the conspiratorial grin back on her face, “So, what do you do, Simon?”
Conversation flows, the table is absolutely tension free, everyone is relaxed and it’s like we’ve had brunch together every Sunday for the past five years. The food is fantastic. The girls are drinking mimosas and we drink beer. We’ve order the gigantic Dutch style pancakes the restaurant is known for. I’m amazed as I watch Addie absolutely demolish hers. I love how completely comfortable she is. She eats what she likes, drinks what she likes, laughs as loudly as she wants and is refreshingly direct during our conversation. I’m totally in this woman’s thrall.
Suddenly, our conversation is interrupted by the loud ring of a phone. We all reach into our respective pockets and purses. It’s Addie’s phone and she declines the call with an annoyed scoff and a quick shake of her head at Cara, who starts to speak.
Her phone rings again less than a minute later and she declines the call yet again with an awkward glance at the table.
But the mood at the table has shifted with Cara’s nervous glances at Addie, whose phone starts ringing again right away. Addie stands up and says, “I’ve got to take this,” and walks off.
I watch her retreating back, the slight sway of
her ass, the flex of her muscular legs with every step she takes. She is marching like a soldier to war and I pity whoever is on the other end of that call.
This woman is a walking puzzle. She is so feminine and sultry, yet she is also so fierce and formidable. I have a feeling I haven’t even seen half the pieces which make up the picture that is Addie. I am more determined than ever to know who she is and what’s keeping her smile from reaching her eyes.
August 31, 2014
“Hello?” I know who is calling before I even answer, even though the number is not a contact in my phone. That 202 area code and number is not one I will ever forget. It’s the FBI headquarters’ main number.
I make my way outside to take the call and my irritation crests.
