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I look at Daniel as I answer her question. “Tonight works for me. I’m not expecting anyone else to stop by, so it’ll just be the two of us.”
He cocks a brow.
“I’ll be there,” Palla says excitedly. “Does eight work? I can come right after Arlo, and I tuck the kids in bed.”
“Eight is great,” I say with a wide grin. “You can take as much time as you need to go through my closet.”
My phone chimes again, so I drop my gaze to it.
Daniel: I guess I’ll need to find someone else to hang out with tonight.
I look to where he’s typing something else into his phone.
Daniel: I have a few old friends in the city who would love to see me.
“I’ll grab you a coffee, Daniel,” Palla says. “On the house. Do you want it to stay, or do you need to go?”
“I’ll stay,” he answers.
I use the opportunity to type out a response to him.
Gina: Don’t be so sure of that. You’re not as fun as you think you are.
When his phone beeps to signal my incoming message, he glances at it immediately before his fingers dart over the screen.
He flashes me a wicked smile when my phone chimes.
Daniel: I’m more fun than you’ve ever had. That I can promise.
With shaking hands, I drop my phone in my bag without glancing at him.
Does he mean in bed? Was my husband flirting with me?
Palla snaps the lid on a to-go cup before she slides it toward me. “Here you go, Gina. I’ll see you tonight. I can’t wait.”
“Me either,” I mumble before I turn and walk away.
With a glance back, I catch Daniel’s gaze pinned to the back of my jeans, checking out my ass.
“He was definitely flirting with you,” I whisper, trying to hold in a smile.
CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
Daniel
When you’rein Manhattan with no home, you improvise.
For me, that means hanging out in the office I once spent most of my time in. When I first walked into it this morning, I was surprised that everything was exactly as I’d left it. When I moved to California, Dominick and Judd didn’t hand it off to anyone else.
I take in the darkened New York skyline before my gaze shifts to a framed picture on the wall. It was taken years ago inside Lawtons. One of the pub’s regular patrons back then was Noah Foster. He’s a professional photographer with an impressive portfolio, and after a shoot one night, he stopped in for a drink with his brother.
I was there to see my dad. Noah snapped a picture of the two of us. Neither of us realized it was happening, but a week later, Noah came by Lawtons again with two framed prints of that image.
It captures our relationship perfectly. I’m standing behind the bar with my dad by my side. He was trying to teach me how to make the perfect martini. At the exact moment the picture was taken, we were both laughing. My dad’s hand is on my shoulder, and I’m looking at him with all the pride I always felt for everything he accomplished.
After his death, I moved all his belongings into my place, along with his copy of the picture. When I moved to California, it took the trip with me and hangs in the living room of my apartment there.
A sound behind me spins me around abruptly.
