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"Hey, who loves you?" she said with a laugh.
"You do," I replied. "Love you back." Then I hung up, smiling at the thought of her own smile I knew would be plastered across her face.
At around seven, I checked my messages and while I was wishing that Josh had sent me yet another message, thinking that if he had I might have broken down and gone to meet him, a message popped up from Steph.
STEPH: So I take it you're right now sitting in a nice Italian restaurant in Mid-Town Manhattan across from one of the hunkiest richest publishing magnates in the world, enjoying world-famous meatballs like I said you should?
I sighed.
ELLA: Actually, I'm sitting on my bed. There's a frozen dinner in my freezer with my name on it, but I'm not really all that hungry right now...
STEPH: Oh, cry me a river. You're in Damn Manhattan, in a studio apartment in Chelsea, with a job in publishing, and a millionaire hunk wanting to lick your tattoo and a whole lot more. Get your ass down to the restaurant and have some damn meatballs, will ya???
ELLA: Okay.
STEPH: That's better. Dammit! Text me to let me know how it goes. If I don't hear from you, I hope it's because he's busy licking something other than your tattoo. And not his spoon either!
ELLA: Okay, okay. I'll go. *Smooch*
STEPH: *cracks whip*
I smiled and put my cell into my bag and left my apartment.
Chapter Sixteen
Joshua
I sent the text and waited, hoping Ella was willing to give us a chance. I didn't expect her to show up. In fact, I expected her to ignore me completely. I sat and checked my cell, then watched outside the window at the street, hoping to see her and her long brown hair come bobbing along the street.
Nothing.
I checked my watch and it was already 7:15. If she was coming, she was late, but I had to expect that since she was new in Manhattan and the trains could be delayed during rush hour.
Then I saw her.
She wore a short jean skirt, a sweater and heels and looked casually delicious, her long hair pulled back in a braid that fell over one shoulder. She opened the door to the restaurant and glanced around until her eyes finally met mine.
I think I saw the slightest bit of a smile on h
er face and that tiny quirk of her lips gave me hope. I stood and held out a chair. She remained in the entrance, as if she was rethinking her decision to join me. I saw her bite her bottom lip and so I knew she needed some extra enticement. I held up the basket of fresh bread sticks and mouthed, 'They're fantastic!' and kissed my fingers the way an Italian chef would.
This time, she smiled broadly and I felt a surge of adrenaline go through me.
She approached the table, stopping when she got to the chair I held out for her.
"Ella, thanks for coming," I said and gestured to the chair. "I know you're concerned about being with me because of who I am, but I want you to feel completely comfortable about it. What will it take to make you less concerned?"
"I don't know," she said and sat down.
I pulled out her napkin and draped it on her lap. Then I sat beside her instead of across from her so I was closer. I turned my chair so we faced each other.
"Let's be totally honest with each other from this time forward. You can ask me anything, and I'll tell you the honest truth. Anything you want. Total open book."
"Anything?" she said and sat down.
"Anything."
She smiled, a wicked gleam in her eyes. "What's your favorite porn indulgence?"
