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It was raining. And not the overcast kind of gray drizzle. An all-out downpour that required an umbrella.
But Grace, not exactly being in an organized state of mind that morning, had barely remembered a bra, much less an umbrella.
By the time she made it to Jake’s apartment her appearance was somewhere between haggard mermaid and sewer rat. Not exactly the look she wanted when she had to deliver a mea culpa, but after an entirely sleepless night, neither 1.0 or 2.0 could seem to muster the energy to care.
Jake lived in a smaller apartment building. The kind with a lone doorman who looked like he predated World War II and knew everybody by name.
He certainly knew Jake. Or, rather, knew of Jake’s women.
Grace hadn’t even opened her mouth to announce herself before the plump white-haired man gave her a weary look and said, “For Jake Malone?”
“Um, yeah.”
He nodded, moving with no speed whatsoever to reach for the phone. “He expecting you?”
He was expecting me about fifteen hours ago. “Yeah.”
“What’s your name, doll?”
“Grace.”
“Grace. That’s pretty. Haven’t had a Grace yet. Lots of Kimberlys. Katies. Kelly. Lots of K’s, come to think of it.”
She ignored the stab of jealousy at the reminder that she was one in a long line of female visitors.
“None of them come by in the morning, though. He has more of the evening visitors, if you catch my drift.”
Unfortunately, she did.
“He’s not picking up,” the doorman said with a little frown, hanging up his phone. “You’re sure he knows you’re coming by?”
She let her brow furrow, hoping she looked baffled instead of panicked. “Hmm, I guess I am a few minutes earlier than expected. He mentioned he was going to hop in the shower, so I bet … You know, if it’s okay with you, I’ll just wait here in the lobby. I’ll try him again in a few minutes.…”
Grace made a big show of wringing out her rain-soaked hair, throwing in a little shiver for good measure, before she gave him a look that said, I’ll just be over here in the corner, damp and cold.
“You’re the girl, right?” he asked.
“The girl?”
“The nice girl. I asked him the other day where all his lady visitors had been, and he said, ‘Well, Carl, I’ve met a nice girl. And I can’t very well woo her with a bunch of other women in the wings, you know?’ ”
Grace raised an eyebrow. “He said ‘woo’?”
Carl guffawed a little. “Perhaps not. But it was what he meant.”
“Uh-huh,” she said with a skeptical smile.
“I’ll tell ya what, little lady. If you’re really a nice girl, you’ll know something about his family. I even got a scarf from his mom last year. Tell me something about him, and I’ll let you go on up to get warm.”
Grace was careful not to let her surprise and relief show. “Well, he’s from Green Bay, Wisconsin. His parents—lovely, by the way—are Nancy and Bob. He has four sisters. Jill, Jessica and Jennifer, who are twins, and the baby, Jamie. She’s a redhead. He went to high school at—”
Carl held up a hand. “You pass. Go on up. Just have Jake give me a call when he’s out of the shower so I don’t fret about it.”
Woo. Fret. Really, the man was too cute.
&n
bsp; “Thanks, Carl,” she called over her shoulder as she headed toward the elevator. “I swear I’m not a psycho!”
