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I’ll sort that out with a call to the airline.
For now, I’m off to find a hotel with an available room and a few slices of pizza because I was planning to eat dinner in Manhattan tonight.
My phone rings in my pocket, so I eagerly tug it out, hoping my wife is granting me more of her attention.
I glance at the screen before answering. “Paul. How are you?”
My right hand man laughs. “Barely surviving here, Daniel. When are you coming back to Los Angeles?”
“Soon,” I say before I amend it. “I can’t say exactly when, but soon.”
“Vague is not the correct answer.” He sighs. “A call came into the office yesterday from a prospective client. She’s based in New York, so I thought, why not send her your way while you’re in the vicinity?”
“You’ve vetted her?” I ask my executive assistant what I always do before I meet with someone reaching out to me.
“You bet.” He whistles. “Her portfolio is impressive, as is her story.”
“Her story?” I ask since my curiosity is piqued. “What does that mean?”
“It’s all in an email I just sent. Take a look.”
I lower the phone and scan my emails. Paul’s is at the top, so I click it open to glance at the woman’s name and her Manhattan based phone number.
“Have I met her before?” I ask Paul. “The name seems familiar.”
“She said you met briefly. Listen, Maeve just walked in and needs me. I’ll call you back within the hour, all right?”
“Sure,” I say. “I’m stuck in Boston for the night and need to find accommodations. I’ll read the entire email once I’ve got that set up, and then we’ll talk about what’s been going on there. You’ll bring me up to speed.”
“Will do,” he says before he ends the call.
I glance at the woman’s name in the lengthy email one last time before I shove my phone back in my pocket and head out of the airport.
CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT
Gina
I unlockthe door to my apartment, but it swings open before I get a hand on the doorknob.
My husband, looking like a dream, greets me. “Hey, wife.”
I bite back a smile by digging my top teeth into my bottom lip. “Hey.”
He looks me over, taking in my jeans and red and white striped blouse. His gaze stalls at my breasts.
Although I don’t need a bra, I’m wearing one today because I stopped by Calvetti’s before coming home.
Since I helped Marti out yesterday, I wanted to see if she needed me to pitch a hand in today, but Cere was back at the front counter, and Alfie was due to arrive in a few hours to help handle the dinner rush.
I left with a bag filled with a tray of baked ravioli and half of a cheesecake. My grandma instructed me to share it with Daniel, even though I told her I had no idea when he was coming back from Boston.
I have my answer now.
“Did you bring me lunch?” he asks.
I tear my gaze from the tattoo on Daniel’s bicep and drop it to the bag. “We can share.”
“Good.” He flashes me a wide grin.
