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My heels clickingon the lobby’s marble floor, I crossed to the huge doors leading from my office building to the hectic New York street scene.
“Good night, Miss Kincaid.”
I waved at the front desk guard.
Just before I reached the doors, my phone vibrated. I considered ignoring it, which I almost never did. Curiosity always got the better of me.
It was Brodie again.
hey. join me for a drink?
Hmmm.
i’m out front of your building.
Shit. Was I dealing with a stalker?
If he was in front of my building, it was too late to hide. I’d just exited the front doors. It was dark, but I was still under the building’s lights. Most likely, he could see me—and I couldn’t see him.
I looked around, checking out the pedestrians walking by and the cars parked at the curb. A limo window rolled down, and he leaned out. He looked terribly sexy with his open-collar dress shirt and suit jacket.
“Nara. Over here.”
Why was I not surprised this guy traveled around in a limo? Anyway, I guess I was committed. Maybe he’d be a welcome diversion from my crummy day. I hoisted a heavy tote over my shoulder and started toward the shiny black town car, conscious that he was watching my every step.
“This is a surprise,” I said as he got out of the car and held the door for me. But I wasn’t about to jump right in.
“Are we going somewhere?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.
He laughed and bowed as if I were royalty. “It’s a beautiful evening. I thought I’d try to catch you on the way home from work. I remember your saying you leave between eight and nine every night, just like I do.”
Oh, what the hell.
“Okay. Let’s go.” I slipped into the back seat of the car with a quick hello to the driver.
Brodie pulled the door closed behind us with a smooth swoop.
“Where we going?” I asked.
I had to admit, a drink sounded nice. And he sure was handsome, with that dark, brooding thing going on. So different from Michael at work. And the creep Simon.
“What do you think about stopping by The Speakeasy in Brooklyn? That’s where you live, right?”
Oh! “I’ve always wanted to go there. To The Speakeasy, not Brooklyn.”
He laughed at my lame joke.
“Cool, let’s check it out.” He leaned forward to give the driver directions.
I’d made a mistake with Michael at work. I’d made a colossal mistake with Simon. I couldn’t afford to make any more.
