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His arm is wrapped around her shoulder. Fuck him.
Her hair is blowing in the wind.
She’s not wearing eyeglasses.
I pinch my fingers against the screen to zoom in on her beautiful face.
This is what she looked like the night I opened the door of my hotel room in Las Vegas.
Carefree, wild, uninhibited, and breathtakingly gorgeous.
I could have been the one with her last night, calling her out on her bullshit.
I curse under my breath for missing my chance to meet her at Axel Tribeca, but I had no choice.
I’ll find another opportunity to get Linny alone and when I do, she’s not leaving the room until she admits that we spent the night together.
Then
, I want a repeat.
Chapter 23
Linny
I race up the sidewalk toward Nova. I was supposed to meet Roland twenty minutes ago, but my Uber driver didn’t show.
Instead of calling for another car, I hopped on the subway in my new red dress and matching heels.
It took longer than I expected to walk from the subway station to here, but I finally made it.
I peer inside the front window of the restaurant but I don’t spot my date anywhere.
After I opened the box from West, debating whether or not to cancel on Roland ate up most of my afternoon
I couldn’t get West out of my mind. That made me feel a rush of guilt over meeting another man, but this evening isn’t just about getting to know Roland better.
It’s a chance for me to enjoy some decadent food, drink good wine and relax after the brutal week I’ve had.
Taking on a new client is hard enough. When you had an amazing one-night stand with them, it makes everything that much more complicated.
Everything.
“Linny, over here.”
I turn at the sound of Roland’s voice. I recognize it right away, even though nothing about it is extraordinary.
“Roland,” I call out as I raise my hand in his direction.
I see him pushing his way through a crowd of people gathered on the sidewalk outside Nova.
As he approaches, I steel myself for our greeting. We haven’t kissed yet. The only physical contact we’ve had was a handshake the night we met and the brief hug we shared when we said goodbye in this spot almost a week ago.
He looks nice, handsome.
He’s dressed in dark jeans, a blue button-down shirt that’s open at the collar and a black blazer.
Women turn to look at him as he nears me, but those butterflies that I know should be flipping around in my stomach, aren’t there.
