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My boss could have given me a heads-up earlier that he wanted muffins, croissants, bagels, and fruit at the office first thing tomorrow. He’s not going to touch any of it. I doubt Mr. Fetzer will either because he never remembers to put in his dentures before he comes to the office for his last-minute early morning meetings.
Seeing as how I have no choice but to fulfill his request, I scroll through the contact list on my phone.
There’s one person I know will make Mr. Calvetti’s breakfast wish come true.
Leta Conyers.
She’s the assistant manager at one of the nicest hotels in Manhattan. She’s also one of my neighbors. She lives on the third floor of this building.
Since I saw her less than an hour ago when I went to take Dudley for his last walk of the day, I’m confident that she’s still awake.
She told me in the lobby that she left a boring date so she could binge-watch her newest Netflix obsession.
Hoping that she hasn’t drifted off next to a big bowl of popcorn, I call her number.
She picks up on the first ring. “Arietta! Did you take my advice and start watching this show? The male lead is delicious, isn’t he?”
“I’m going to start watching tomorrow night,” I answer honestly. Sinclair and I are always looking for recommendations to add to our must-watch list.
“We’ll compare notes.” She laughs. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. This guy is tall with dark hair and brown eyes. He’s built for fulfilling women’s fantasies. I wish men like that existed in real life.”
They do. I work for one.
I skip past my personal, confusing thoughts about my boss and get to the reason I reached out to her at midnight. “I’m sorry I’m calling late, Leta, but I need help.”
“I’ll come up.” I hear movement. “I’ve got your back, Arietta. If you need an alibi, you can count on me.”
What the hell?
“An alibi?” I question with a half-laugh.
Leta giggles. “I’m sorry. Blame it on the show. Legal thrillers are my weakness.”
Mine too. Her recommendation just shot to the top of my must-watch list.
“What do you need?” she goes on. “Whatever it is, I’m here to help.”
“Food,” I admit. “My boss sent me an email five minutes ago with a request for a breakfast spread eight hours from now. I ordered from a bistro in midtown last time, and he wasn’t a fan.”
“He’ll be a fan of our breakfast,” she says confidently. “Are you looking for pastry items or more?”
Since my co-workers and I will be the ones enjoying the food during our coffee breaks, I list a few of our favorites. “Muffins, donuts, bagels, croissants, some fruit, and maybe a few of those mini parfaits with the Greek yogurt you let me sample.”
Leta welcomed me with open arms when I stopped by the Bishop Hotel one morning to greet a client who flew in from Boston the night before to meet with Mr. Calvetti. While I waited for the client to finish getting ready for the day, Leta sat me down in her office and brought me several breakfast items to try. The yogurt parfaits were my favorite.
“Done and done,” she chirps.
“I can pick it up on my way to work.”
“We’ll deliver it to your office,” she offers. “I’ll bill it to Modica.”
“Add a fifty percent tip since this is last minute.” I rest my head back on my pillow. “You’re a lifesaver, Leta. Thank you.”
“Anytime.” She yawns. “I’ll send a text to the chef to get this ready for delivery first thing in the morning. Your boss will be happy, Arietta. I promise. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” I say before ending the call. Looking at Dudley, I place my phone back on my nightstand. “Leta can promise all she wants, but food won’t make The Dick happy. Nothing will.”
All I can hope for is that Mr. Calvetti will be semi-satisfied with the breakfast that awaits him, even if it never touches his lips.
I close my eyes and drift off, trying desperately to ward off thoughts of his perfect, full, kissable lips.
Chapter 5
Arietta
“You’re the most beautiful young lady in this city.”
I glance at the man showering me with that compliment. “That means a lot coming from you, Mr. Fetzer.”
He flashes me a gummy grin. It makes him even more charming than he already is. With a slow wink of one of his light blue eyes, he points at the two trays of food that Leta had sent over. “Did you stay up all night baking for me?”
I sneak a glance at Mr. Calvetti, but his gaze is pinned to the screen of his phone. I didn’t expect a thank you when he arrived at the office five minutes after me. He looked over the food, took a sip of the coffee that I had set by his chair at the head of the table in the conference room, and told me to bring Mr. Fetzer in to see him as soon as he arrived.
