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She moves to the side as I breeze past her and stalk toward her bed. My jeans are on the floor in a crumpled mess next to the T-shirt I was wearing.
I tug my phone free and scan the screen. Three missed calls and two text messages.
I run through them quickly, noting that all are from the same number.
“It’s a client’s daughter,” I say softly. “My client died an hour ago.”
I hear Bianca’s footsteps behind me. “I’m sorry.”
I’m relieved.
When I grabbed my phone, I expected the missed calls to be personal. “She was very sick.”
“Do you need to go?”
There’s little I can do at this time of night for my client’s daughter, but I’m needed somewhere else. I belong here with Bianca as much as I belong at home.
I turn to face her. “I should.”
Her hands drop in front of her. “I understand.”
I stand there, staring at every inch of her. “Tonight was…”
“The first of many?” she questions. “You’ll come back again soon?”
“I will,” I whisper because there’s no fucking way I’m going to have the strength to end this as I’ve done with women in the past. “I’m having dinner with a client tomorrow, so how about I drop by on Saturday night?”
“I’d like that.” She smiles. “Do you want me to order you an Uber?”
I’m in no rush. There’s no one waiting up for me. I won’t contact my client’s daughter until tomorrow morning. “Thank you, but I’ve got it covered.”
I plan to walk home.
That will give me what I need most right now.
Time. I need time to think about how the future I’ve always seen for myself looks different now because I want Bianca in it.
Chapter 34
Bianca
“You cooked dinner for Roman last night?” Sabrina raises a brow as we stroll down a street on the Upper East Side. “It’s serious, isn’t it?”
I tug the white cardigan I’m wearing closer to my body to ward off the evening wind that’s picked up since we left Crispy Biscuit. “I like him.”
Sabrina smiles. “A lot.”
“Yes,” I admit as we slow to a stop to wait for a crossing light. “He’s fun. We have a great time together.”
Her gaze darts around to the people gathering near us. “How is the sex?”
I’m grateful she asked it in an almost whisper. Rolling my eyes, I jerk a thumb over my shoulder.
She shakes her head. “No one is listening to our conversation.”
“I am.”
We turn in unison to see a woman with gray hair standing behind us. She’s wearing a light blue blouse with a white bow at the collar. Purple-rimmed eyeglasses sit atop her nose.
“Excuse me?” Sabrina huffs out a laugh.
“I don’t get out as much as I used to.” The woman shrugs. “I’ll take any excitement I can get, even if that means eavesdropping on the conversation of two beautiful young women.”
I smile at her before my gaze darts to Sabrina. I find her with a wide grin on her face.
“So tell me.” The woman behind us taps the center of my back. “How was the sex?”
“Phenomenal,” I admit.
“I miss that.” The woman squeezes my shoulder. “Hold onto him as long as you can because not all sex is not great sex.”
She moves around us as the light turns.
Watching her walk away, Sabrina and I both launch into a giggling fit.
“That just happened,” she manages between laughs. “You just told a stranger that Roman Hawthorne is a beast in bed.”
Calming myself, I hold a hand against my stomach. “I wasn’t lying. It was epic.”
She reaches out to grab my hand. “I have to agree with whoever that woman was. Hold onto him, Bianca. Men like that aren’t easy to find.”
***
Fifteen minutes later, we’re standing on the sidewalk staring up at a townhouse.
“Give me your first thoughts,” I say to my cousin.
“The brick isn’t in good shape.” She sighs. “That’s expensive to replace.”
I nod. “You’re right, but the location is stellar.”
She taps a finger against her lips. “The offer to work with me still stands. I know what you do at Packton is a hell of a lot different than what I do, but I could use your insight to help me grow my business.”
My knowledge in the building sector is increasing by the day, but I love my job. “When do you tour the inside?”
“Monday morning. I thought I’d take the weekend to think more about it and to grab a peek at the exterior. Thanks for tagging along for that.”
I’d offer to tour the interior with her on Monday, but my day is booked solid. “You’re considering it though. I can tell.”
Her gaze darts to me. “How can you tell?”
“You tap your lip whenever you’re leaning toward agreeing to something.” I demonstrate by tapping my lips with my index finger. “You did the same thing earlier when I suggested we take the subway here instead of an Uber.”
