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“Do you want another cup of chamomile tea?” I change the subject effortlessly. “Have you warmed up at all?”
Sophia ran two blocks through the rain earlier to get here. It was a brief shower, but she got caught in it on her way here from the subway stop. When I opened my apartment door her red T-shirt and shorts were dotted with raindrops.
“I’m better.” She wraps her bare legs in a blanket she tugged off my bed. “I could use a glass of water.”
I go to the sink to fill a glass, stealing another glance at Rocco’s apartment.
It’s still dark.
“Dex,” Sophia calls out. “You haven’t talked much about the pitch session lately. You said you had two investors interested. You must have news to share about a potential deal.”
I down the glass of water in my hand in one large gulp. “Both investors are putting together an offer. I’ll make my decision once I have all the facts in front of me.”
I refill my glass and grab another for Sophia.
“Tell me about the investors.” She tucks the blanket tighter around her legs. “What are they like?”
“Rich,” I joke as I shove the glass of water in her hand.
She takes a sip. “That’s why they’re the investors and you’re the investee.”
I plop down next to her, tugging on the hem of the yoga shorts I’m wearing. “I hope I make the right decision.”
“You will, “ she assures me with a squeeze of my knee. “You made the right decision when you kissed Rocco.”
I see the smile on her face out of the corner of my eye. “I thought you might have forgotten about that kiss.”
“That kiss was hot-as-hell.” She fans herself. “The man wants you, Dexie.”
I can’t argue that. He wanted me last night and this morning again before I went to work.
I had to stop him, or I know that my day would have been spent in his bed.
“He’s good for you,” she announces. “I think he’s the best thing that’s happened to you since you moved to Manhattan.”
I’d agree, but I’ve accomplished so much since my move from Rhode Island. Rocco and I spent one night together. I can’t let what I’m feeling for him overshadow everything else that’s going on in my life.
“He’s a nice man,” I say. “I don’t know him that well, Soph.”
“Give it time.” She leans her head back on my couch. “A year from now you’ll be Mrs. Rocco Jones. Mark my words.”
“I’ll be Dexie Walsh,” I correct her with a grin. “Hopefully, by then I’ll be working full-time for myself and my handbags will be the toast of the town.”
“You’ll make it happen.” She snuggles under the blanket. “When you do, Rocco will be right there beside you.”
***
“That’s him, isn’t it?” Rocco jerks a thumb toward the bartender.
The bartender.
I’m back at Rhoda’s favorite bar because she asked me to join her for a drink after work. I showed up on time, but she bailed with an apologetic text message. Her last meeting of the day ran long so when Rocco called me to ask if we could meet up, I told him to head over here.
“That’s who?” I try to brighten the mood when he sits next to me.
He huffs out a laugh. “Is this punishment for disappearing on you last night?”
It’s not.
