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My phone buzzed on the pile of papers littering my desk.
I grinned as I answered the phone. “I’m afraid I’m not available for dinner and dancing this evening.”
“A tragedy if I’ve ever heard one.” Cagan Roqueford sighed into the phone. “I’ve just arrived in New York and was hoping to get a tour.”
“Are you buying the drinks?” I snatched my purse off the floor.
“If I must,” he said dryly. “Where shall I meet you?”
“A bar.” I closed the door to my office behind me.
“I’m here for business, not a social visit.” A series of car horns blared in the background. “Must I ask the driver for a recommendation?”
“Park and East 33rd.” I was tempted to ask him to pick me up, but I needed to get out of this building. “And you asked me for a tour, so I’m not sure I believe this isn’t a social trip. Are Bennett, Annie, Lawson, and Joss with you?”
“Afraid I left them in London.”
“Like you didn’t have room for them in that massive jet.” I pushed out into the spring warmth. People and cars swirled around in a chaos that somehow made perfect sense.
“It’s just a quick pop over and back.”
I smiled as I hailed a taxi. “Then I feel so special you called.”
I waitedon the corner of Park and East 33rd. The line at the food truck was steady but moved quickly. I’d heard good things about it, especially the cake. An afternoon pick-me-up to get me through the hellacious evening that awaited me was exactly what I needed.
A dark Range Rover stopped at the curve. Long legs clad in a custom-tailored pinstriped suit appeared first. Cagan stepped out of the back as if this city belonged to him. In so many ways, he reminded me of Lincoln. Could have been the suits, though Cagan preferred three-piece, but mostly it was their general air-of-command. He headed his father’s global shipping company from London. We’d met at local council meeting when we were both attempting to get properties approved for rezoning.
Cagan Roqueford was a good-looking bastard. The kind who was far too handsome for his own good. We’d become fast friends, mostly because we liked to talk business. It was a shame he’d never made my heart beat a little faster or my skin tingle.
But that part of me was broken.
He made quick strides to reach me, bending to kiss both of my cheeks. “Hello, love. I hate to admit it, but America suits you.”
I held him at arm’s length. “I hate to admit it, but I’m glad to see you.”
His grin was cheeky. “I’m not surprised.”
I tucked my arm into his. “How do you feel about cake instead of coffee?”
He eyed the food truck warily. “Bizarrely better.”
We filed to the back of the line. “What brings you over?”
“One of our ports had a software crash.” He rubbed his temples. “It’s a bloody nightmare. My father seems to think I’m an IT expert all of a sudden.”
I bit my lip to keep from laughing. “Shouldn’t you be headed to the port?”
“Absolutely, but the flight over wasn’t enough time to steel myself for what awaits me there.” He lifted a brow. “Believe it or not, I’m procrastinating.”
“I don’t believe it.” We’d been friends for over ten years. He took the word workaholic to a new level and certainly wasn’t afraid to tackle problems head-on.
We stepped up to the window.
“Good afternoon. What can I get you two?” a polite woman greeted with a radiant smile.
“We’re here for the desserts,” I said.
“Then I have just the thing for you . . .ifyou’re feeling adventurous.” She pointed to a display. “We have cake pops for the first time. Red velvet, birthday cake, and carrot.”
