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Zeke
“When do you move into your new place?” Josh asked as we stood at the bar.
“I get the keys tomorrow,” I replied before sipping my whiskey.
“That’s cool. You going to give me a key?”
I laughed, “No, I’m not giving anyone a key.”
“What about that woman you’re seeing? You going to give her one?”
I shook my head, “No, she’s not getting one either.”
“I thought you were into here.”
I sighed, “I was, but now I’m not so sure. I’m don’t think it’s going to work.”
He nodded, smirking as if he already knew that. Diane was nice, but she wasn’t my cup of tea. Yeah, we had some decent conversations, and she was witty at times. Plus, the sex was decent, but something was missing.
I wanted a woman who could keep me on my toes. Someone who wasn’t afraid to take a chance. Not that she had to be a daredevil or anything, but I wanted a woman who was willing to have fun, try new things, and get dirty—not just in the bedroom. I also wanted to share business conversations with them and not feel like I needed to explain everything. Plus, they needed to eat in front of me and enjoy sex, like lots of sex.
I didn’t think that was asking too much. I had thought that Diane might be the one, but she got bleary-eyed when I started talking about work, and she seemed overly distracted these days. The sex was good, not great, but good enough to work with. She was sweet, and I liked her, but I didn’t see myself going the long haul with her at my side. I was ready to find that.
I had almost broken up with her the other night. I had been thinking over that decision for a couple of weeks now. When I mentioned that I would be moving to a new place soon, Diane told me that she had a friend that was an interior designer if I wanted help decorating it.
Typically, hiring a designer wouldn’t have been my cup of tea, but I had recently gotten a promotion at work, and now my salary was a plump six figures. It allotted me a serious upgrade in my living conditions, and since the building I was moving into was a swanky apartment building, I was determined to make it nice. I had no clue how to decorate, so I decided to hold off breaking up with Diane and take her up on the offer to meet her friend.
Before Diane had left that night, she promised to introduce me later in the week to Shelby, and she left me her website so I could check out some of her work. I hated to admit it, but I had spent way too much time on that site, especially Shelby’s profile page.
Shelby Whitmore had impressive style, or that’s what it looked like in the gallery of photos she displayed on her site. I had taken my time to read over all the profiles of the other designers, but it was her profile that held my attention—actually, it was the picture of the red-headed beauty with expressive light green eyes that I couldn’t quite get out of my head.
Holy fuck, she was beautiful, but more than that, she looked intelligent and sassy at the same time. I had spent the week looking forward to tonight and knew that I would do just about anything to get the woman to work with me.
So, four days later, here I was at Tucker’s Tavern waiting for Diane to introduce us, and as if thinking about Shelby conjured her from thin air, I happened to be glancing around when Shelby strolled into the tavern wearing a long black coat, and heeled boots.
Her photo hadn’t done her justice, and I was immediately transfixed by the fiery red hair and her clear, pale skin. Her eyes shifted around the tavern, and then she moved toward a table off to the side. She got situated and glanced around a few more times after ordering a drink. Then she busied herself with her phone and sipped from her glass once it arrived. I watched every expression she made and took my time, letting my gaze drift down the skirted legs crossed elegantly under the table. The skirt was long and covered the tops of her black leather boots that had tall, spiked heels. Jesus, what I wouldn’t do to see her standing in those boots and nothing else—fuck me!
I tamped down the instant desire that tore through me and sent her a drink. I watched her as she received it, noted the way she checked me out, and then turned away to make her wonder.
I mean, come on. What guy sends a woman a drink and then turns his back on her?
I’d get the opportunity to speak with her soon enough and hopefully get to know her better—especially if she took the job.
Diane arrived right after the drink arrived, and I watched Diane drink the rum and coke I’d sent over as she got settled at the table. I remained where I was for a few minutes, observing the two of them from the other side of the tavern.
Diane sent me four messages, asking me where I was, and finally, I responded and approached the table. I didn’t miss Diane’s bright eyes staring up at me, but it was Shelby’s gaze that I wanted to see. The minute Diane was away from the table, I zeroed in on Shelby, trying to talk her into working with me.
“Come on, Shelby. Help a guy out. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”
She remained silent for a few moments, then set her glass on the table, “As tempting as your offer is, I’m afraid I am rather busy right now, and I am not personally taking any new clients on.”
“Not even one that is a friend of a friend?”
She pursed her lips, glancing at Diane, then back to me. “Why the mad rush? Why do you need a designer all of a sudden?”
“I am moving into The Chadwick this week, and I want to make it look perfect.”
Her brows popped high, and she straightened her back, “The Chadwick?”
