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The difference between us is that I didn’t march down to his building and show up unannounced.
“Since you weren’t able to meet me at Rolly’s yesterday, I’m here to ask you to have lunch with me today at Nova.”
He throws out the name of the best restaurant in the city like it’s a fast food place anyone can walk into and demand whatever’s on the menu.
“I’m busy,” I lie.
“Dinner then.”
“Busy still.” I add a smile to complement my deceit.
He looks me over. His gaze lingers on my legs before it travels slowly past my breasts to my face. “Tomorrow, Bianca.”
I shake my head. “That won’t work.”
That answer is based in truth. I’m meeting my cousin Sabrina Marks for dinner tomorrow. She’s also my landlord. Sabrina owns the building I’m currently living in. We check in with each other over dinner once a month, so I can give her the insider’s scoop on what’s going on with her property.
Typically, that involves whatever gossip I glean from Lester. I never ask about the people who live in the same building that I do. Lester always offers, which is why I try very hard to keep him out of my personal business.
Roman’s eyes narrow. “I don’t give up easily, Bianca.”
“I don’t give in easily,” I counter.
His lips curl up into a smile. “I’m a persistent man. Patient as well.”
I stare at him, not sure if I’ll ever get used to how ridiculously handsome he is. “The first is expected. The second is surprising.”
He takes a step closer to me. “You strike me as a woman worth waiting for.”
“I am.”
He cocks a dark brow. “I’ll be in touch soon.”
“You don’t have my number,” I point out. “Or do you?”
With a shake of his head, he breezes past me. “That would make it too easy, wouldn’t it? I’m always up for a challenge.”
I hold back a laugh. “You think I’ll eventually sleep with you, don’t you?”
He stops and turns to look at me again. “We both know that’s a rhetorical question.”
“Your arrogance is…”
“Just one of my charms,” he interrupts. “Goodbye, for now, Bianca.”
“Goodbye,” I whisper as he opens the door and walks out. “For now.”
Chapter 11
Bianca
John’s need to talk to me earlier was interrupted by Roman, so when the devilishly good-looking lawyer made his way out of Packton’s offices, John rushed back in to see me.
He praised me for my work on getting the Tribeca project back on track, and then he surprised me with an office of my own.
It’s small and cramped with a wooden desk that looks like it’s been glued back together a time or two, but it’s mine.
I spin around to admire my decorating skills.
Circus themes don’t work for me, but soft colors and framed photographs do.
I have an image of my mom and Vivi sitting atop my desk and a picture of my dad next to it. It was taken a year before he died. His brown hair is falling into his blue eyes. His hand is raised in greeting to my mom. She’s the photographer behind my most treasured possession.
That photo is the only one of him that I have framed. My mom didn’t have a lot of images of my dad so I kept this one on the wall of my bedroom until today. Family pictures aren’t part of the décor of my home.
My apartment is filled with artwork that Thurston gifted me with over the past few years. He’s always insisted that an investment in art is the perfect birthday present.
Since his taste mirrors mine, I’ve never complained.
Each time he’s had a painting delivered to my apartment, he’s arranged to have it hung up by the building maintenance people. He’s on a first name basis with all of them since his niece, Sabrina, owns the building.
It was Thurston who suggested I move into the building since the rent on the apartment was a good deal. I suspect that I’m paying less than any of the other tenants, but I like the views. It’s not my forever home, but for now, it’s fine.
This office feels more like mine than my apartment does, so I dashed home to get things that I know will make me smile when I’m having a rough day.
I glance at the soft pink and gray throw pillow sitting atop the window seat. I nabbed it from a chair in my bedroom. I also grabbed a silver vase from a cupboard in my kitchen. The daisies Roman brought me have found a home there.
“I love this,” Paige interrupts my thoughts as she appears at the open doorway of my office. “You need to get a placard for the door that says your name.”
I wave her in. “I’ll work on that. I only moved in two hours ago.”
She steps forward. “You didn’t waste any time.”
When John told me about the office, I didn’t want to give him a chance to change his mind, so I ran to claim it as soon as he dropped the keys in my hand.
