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“But nothing,” she interrupts. “You’re a perfect match. You’re both single. I saw the sparks that were flying between you two when she came to visit me at the office last week.”
There wasn’t a spark in sight; at least not on my end.
“I’m interested in someone else. It’s going to be a no, Blythe.”
She studies my face carefully. “Why have I not met this woman you’re interested in?”
Because I don’t know who the fuck she is.
I spent a few hours with her in a hotel room in Vegas two months ago and I can’t stop thinking about her.
I’ve tried.
Jesus, have I tried.
I’ve taken women to dinner. I’ve gone home with them, and every single fucking time, I don’t end up in bed. Instead, I retell the story of the gorgeous green-eyed woman in the pink tutu I met on my way to Vegas and how she disappeared before I woke up.
It still haunts me that I only got a taste. If I would have kept my goddamn eyes open that night I would have had more time with her.
For the rest of my life, I’m going to regret falling asleep that night.
Rocco clears his throat. He’s heard me complain about Blythe a handful of times the past few months including last week when I told him she put that tracker app on my phone.
He knows she oversteps, but he’s well aware of what an asset she is to me. She’s one of the few people in this world that I trust.
“I’m heading up Central Park South.” Rocco offers his arm to Blythe. “Can I walk you somewhere?”
She grabs his bicep, wrapping her hand around it. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”
“You live in the opposite direction, Blythe,” I point out.
“I know.” She winks at me. “We’re going to take the scenic route.”
I shake my head as I watch them walk away. Hundreds of people are in the park on this warm summer afternoon, but my gaze is only drawn to women with shoulder-length brown hair.
I have no idea if the woman I spent the night with in Las Vegas lives in Manhattan, but that hasn’t stopped me from scanning the face of every brunette I’ve seen since that night.
I may never lay eyes on her again, but it sure as hell doesn’t hurt to look.
Chapter 10
Linny
I glance down at my phone and the text message that just arrived.
Harmony: I told you he was hot.
I hate when she’s right, but
I can’t deny that the man she set me up with is good-looking.
This is the third time in the past year that Harmony has arranged a date for me. The first two times I didn’t make it to the dessert course before I called it a night.
I’m enjoying a delicious slice of cheesecake with fresh blueberries at the moment, so Roland Elgar is faring better than other of the other men Harmony thought would be perfect for me.
“It doesn’t bother me if you check your phone, Linny.” Roland smiles as he finishes the last bite of the strawberry napoleon he ordered. “My work follows me out of the office too.”
He’s a professor of economics at NYU. He owns a townhouse in Brooklyn and spends his Sunday afternoons having dinner with his brother who happens to teach at the same school as Harmony.
