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Butterflies erupt inside me.
Oh.
My.
God.
“It’s the same for me. When I wasn’t consumed with all this drama––aka my life––you were on my mind.”
I spent the better part of Sunday at the office. Sydney came over on Sunday evening to keep me company and help me with my long list of stupid house chores. All the while, we exchanged naughty stories. Her alpha was undeniably an experienced lover, but he didn’t rock her world the way the man standing in front of me did mine.
“Are you going to keep me in suspense much longer, J.S.?” he presses.
“My name is Jules Salinger.”
“Pleased to meet you, Jules Salinger,” he flashes me a smile that makes me forget all my woes. “My name is Levi Aldridge.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Levi.”
“So, you’re having a challenging day?”
“To say the least.”
“I recognize you don’t know much about me, but I’m a great listener.”
“It’s okay,” I shake my head. “I don’t want to trouble you. I’ll figure it out,” I lie. As it stands, only a crystal ball—or a million dollars—can help me figure out my next step.
“It’s no trouble, Jules,” he tells me.
I love hearing my name on his lips.
I consider him for a long beat.
“Listen, whatever you’re dealing with is weighing on you. Sometimes you just need to get it off your chest.”
I let out a heavy sigh. “Okay.”
“Good,” he smiles. “I just ended a meeting with my lawyers, and I was heading to the convenient store for a chocolate bar because I’m starved,” he tells me. “If we’re going to talk, we might as well do it in front of a hearty meal and great wine. I know it’s only half past five, but why don’t we have an early dinner? I know a phenomenal Italian restaurant not too far.”
“I—uh… Are you sure? I don’t want you to change your evening plans on my account.”
“I know exactly what I want and that’s spending the evening with you,” his voice drops a notch or two, sounding wholly seductive, although I’m unsure if that’s on purpose or not. Regardless, my pussy approves.
“Oh,” I say, nervously brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Do you work in this building?” he asks.
“No.” I give him a quick rundown, but don’t mention Hillary. “I took a taxi here. I didn’t want to deal with parking, or worse, a ticket.” And my shitty car is unreliable.
“My Range Rover is parked in the garage. Let’s take my wheels and I’ll drive you back to your office after dinner.”
“Okay.” Truth be told, I don’t have it in me to argue. Not to mention, in this shit storm that is my life, Levi Aldridge is a beacon of light. I’d have to be stupid not to take him up on his offer.
Chapter 10
Levi
Mexican culture defines El Pueblo, but before that, this was the old Los Angeles enclave—and heart—of Little Italy. After a bit of a downslide, the neighborhood is now bustling and Italian culture shines again. It’s also home to some kickass restaurants serving uncomplicated, yet outstanding Italian meals. Zia Josefina is one of my favorites.
