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It’ll be a busy one, but the reward of having dinner with her will be the end goal I’ll focus on.
I give her a once over, admiring the cut of the emerald green dress she’s wearing. On her feet are black heels with little bows at the back of the ankle.
In addition to looking completely professional, she’s sexy as hell.
That’s not an easy combination to pull off, but she does it each and every day.
“Should I lose the suit after work?” I smooth a palm over one of the lapels of my dark blue suit jacket. “Are we dining at a formal or casual place?”
Her gaze slides over me, taking time to admire everything. “Casual.”
“So, no suit?”
“Depends on how you define casual.” She looks down at her dress. “I’m wearing this.”
“That’s not casual,” I point out while glancing at the approaching traffic to see if I spot Jurgen. “Those tight ripped jeans you wear are casual. Those T-shirts that cling to your body are casual.”
She takes a step forward while giving her hips a wiggle. “This clings.”
“Damn right it does.”
A smile blooms on her mouth. “Wear whatever feels comfortable for you. I’ll keep this on because it’s a special dress. I wear it on special occasions.”
“This is sounding less casual by the second, Champ.”
With a mischievous grin, she shrugs. “It’s casual. I consider my treating you to dinner as a special occasion. I promise you’ll have a good time.”
The black SUV pulling in next to the curb is all too familiar. I raise a hand in greeting to my driver. “Every moment I’m fortunate enough to spend with you is a good time. I’m really looking forward to tonight, Calliope.”
“I am too,” she says. “I think it will be a night to remember.”
Chapter Forty-Two
Callie
“Isn’t this typically a Tuesday thing?” Sean tosses me a smile as I stand in line, waiting to order our dinner.
We’re near Radio City Music Hall. It’s almost seven p.m., and the sun’s warmth is starting to give way to a gentle breeze.
I checked the forecast before we left the office to make sure I didn’t have to borrow an umbrella from the holder that sits behind the reception desk in the lobby.
Sean’s last call of the day ran late, so while I waited for him, I jotted down more marketing ideas for the subscription model. I’m excited to run them by Rory and Justin on Monday morning before we present all of our ideas to Delora.
“Not in my world,” I quip. “It’s a whenever the craving strikes thing. What do you want me to get for you?”
His gaze wanders to the simple menu on the front of the food truck. “You choose.”
“You’re sure?”
“I trust you, Champ.” He moves so he’s standing next to me. “I’m on board for whatever you’re eating.”
Nodding, I take a step forward until I’m at the window. “Hey, Barney!”
The owner of the food truck shoots me a broad smile. “Callie Morrow! Look at you. Let me guess. An order of fish tacos, chips and salsa on the side, and a bottle of water.”
“Times two.” I hold out some cash.
Barney’s gaze wanders to Sean. “Boyfriend?”
“I am,” Sean says before I can introduce him as my boss or my neighbor. “Sean Wells.”
“I’m pleased to meet you.” Barney straightens the apron tied around his waist. “Be good to her. She deserves only the best.”
Sean’s gaze catches mine. “I agree. Calliope deserves only the best.”
An hour later, we walk into a gallery a few blocks from where we sat to eat our dinner.
Sean complimented the food and told me he planned on stopping by the truck for lunch one day with his brother in tow.
I took that to mean that I’d made a wise decision taking him there.
As we enter the small space, Sean takes a look around. “Another hidden gem. I didn’t know this place existed, Champ.”
There are treasures like this sprinkled throughout Manhattan.
I’ve been fortunate because at one time, I’d spend hours walking the streets of this city with my camera in my hand. It was the ideal way to clear my mind after a long day of college classes. Once I graduated, I’d spend time each weekend strolling along a street I’d never been on before.
I snapped thousands of images. Each was unique in that it captured a specific moment in time in this city.
Life changed, so that passion fell by the wayside, but coming to exhibit openings like this reminds me that creativity exists all around us, even if we can’t actively pursue it at the moment.
“I found this place about a year ago,” I tell him as I look around the space.
This month’s exhibit features a sculptor from Brooklyn. His medium is clay, and the sculptures are all of animals, each measuring no more than six inches in height and a foot across.
