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“No, I don’t,” she protests, but falls silent as the chef approaches our table, rubbing his hands together and beaming down at us.
“Michael mentioned you very much enjoyed your meal.” He is addressing me, so I nod to him.
“It was very nice. You’ve truly outdone yourself tonight, Chef Daniels.”
His grin widens at my praise. But, of course, I’m not the one gushing over the meal. “I believe my dining companion has a thing or two to say.”
I nod to Anica, who pales, shooting me a venomous glare as I grin back at her. Red floods Anica’s cheeks as the chef turns to her, spreading his hands wide.
“A-absolutely delicious. I’ve never eaten anything so w-wonderful.”
She gets an air kiss to each cheek for her pains and the chef disappears as the check appears. Normally, I would consider heading back to the bar for a drink or two, but Anica is starting to squirm again. Probably because even more eyes are on us after Chef Daniels’ effusive thanks. Dropping some cash and a hefty tip into the check, I shove to my feet, holding my hand out to help Anica up.
She gratefully seizes it, standing and falling into step beside me. As we are walking out, I place my hand on her back again, smiling down reassuringly at her when she glances up at me, where I have my phone to my ear, ordering the town car to pull around to collect us.
As soon as we are home, Anica murmurs her thanks for dinner, and goodnight, and scampers off to bed, leaving me watching her go with bemusement. That was… different.
Anica
As soon as I shut myself in my bedroom, I lean against the door, pressing my hands against my stomach. I’m incredibly full, and it was all so delicious. I’m also more than a little bit tipsy, considering every one of the seven courses came with a different glass of wine. Now I understand why David stopped me from bringing my initial glass with us.
I don’t think I’ve ever drank so much on a work night before in my life! Sometimes, when I get drunk, I lose the inhibitions that still my tongue. So, I’m so very glad I said nothing humiliating tonight. Like a comment about how delicious David looked in his suit or anything like that. God, can you imagine how embarrassing that would have been? It doesn’t bear thinking about!
Kicking off my shoes, I hurry into the bathroom to scrub my face clean of any makeup. My reflection stares back at me, looking as exhausted as I’m starting to feel now my alcohol buzz is fading. Sighing, I shut off the light and slip back into my allocated bedroom, crossing to the closet.
Pulling on my sleep singlet and cotton shorts, I crawl into bed. It’s as comfortable and soft as it looks. It’s like sleeping on a cloud. I’ve never slept on a mattress this comfortable. I didn’t even know they existed. Which was probably a good thing. I don’t know how long this assignment is going to last, but I knowit’s going to be hard to go back to my life – and lumpy old mattress – in Chicago when it’s over.
My eyes find the window, city lights dimly shining through the tinted glass. I contemplated closing the curtains, but I want to wake up to the early morning sun and the views of the city. It’s probably the only morning I’ll make this decision, but I should do it at least once.
Curling up in bed, I hug my knees to my chest, sighing as I reach over and grab my iPad off my nightstand. Clicking the home button, my favorite picture of Andrew and I stares back at me. Ignoring my grinning face, I fix my eyes on Andrew’s smiling one and whisper about all my new experiences today until my eyes grow heavy.
My bed of clouds is lulling me to sleep, and I’m not willing to force myself to stay awake. I have a big day tomorrow and I want to get off to a good start. Yawning so hard my jaw cracks, I shove aside my iPad, burrowing into the comfortable pillows as I drift off to sleep.
Chapter Five
Anica
A shaft of sunlight hits my face at exactly the right angle to have me blinking awake and squinting at the light as I move my head out of the way. I have zero regrets for sleeping with the curtains open though, because the view takes my breath away as I rub my eyes and yawn. I’m not one to luxuriate in bed in the morning. Back home, I would usually start my day with a jog, but I don’t know my way around Central Park yet, and I’d be terrified of getting lost. Still. There is one thing I’m looking forward to, and since I’m awake….
Shoving the coverlet back, I climb out of bed, making my way into the bathroom to have my long waterfall shower that I promised myself last night. I don’t take as long as I would in a perfect world because I have to blow-dry my hair, which always takes forever. Ireallyneed a more powerful blow-dryer. Like those that they have at the salon. Those things are amazingly powerful. And hundreds of dollars, Ani. I sigh while pulling my hair back from my face in a ponytail. Maybe one day.
My work makeup routine is minimal, as always. Foundation, mascara, a tiny bit of eye shadow, and some lipstick. Perfect. Eying myself critically in the mirror, I look okay. I need to make a good impression on my first day at Haven Property. Not to mention if Cathy thinks she’s going to see me today, there’s every chance I might find myself face to face with Mr. Westerhaven. Something that has never happened to me before. The idea has me extremely jumpy.
I’ve settled on my typical work attire of low-heeled black pumps, cream colored, lace-topped stockings, a light blue, long-sleeved, fitted button down blouse tucked into a high-waisted dark gray pencil skirt. It’s perfectly acceptable if I come face-to-face with Mr. Westerhaven, and I like to think it suits my shape.
Leaving the bathroom, I tuck my iPad into my black leather purse I keep specifically for work. I never go to work without my iPad. You never know when inspiration will strike, and you might need to draw a sketch or make some notes. Besides, I’m supposed to be shadowing David to get a feel for his personality. Plenty of note-taking opportunities should present themselves at his office.
Taking a deep breath, I make my way to the kitchen. David is already there, looking almost sinfully handsome in a light gray suit. He’s clearly waiting for me, propped up against the breakfast bar, scowling at his phone. When he hears my heels tapping along on the hardwood floors, he looks up, annoyed. But the look disappears and his eyes rove over me. A blush tinges my cheeks. Typical.
“Ready to leave?” David finally drawls as his eyes flicker from my pumps back up to my face. Oh. I suppose there’s no time for breakfast. I took a while in the shower. Damn it. Maybe there will be a café in the Haven Property offices. Haven Enterprises has one on the ground floor of the building. They do the most delicious pastries. David is watching me expectantly. Oops. Right. Leaving. Yes. I nod, hugging my purse tightly to my side.
Once again, David’s hand lands on my lower back as he escorts me out of the building toward the town car. I risk a peek up at him, but his eyes are still glued to his phone. I think the hand on the back thing might be unconscious. That’s interesting. I file it away to unpack later.
He taps away on his phone the entire trip to the building which houses the offices of Haven Property. We’re not too far from the Rockefeller Center. I Googled the offices back when I was in Chicago.
The driver rounds the car and opens David’s door, and his phone finally disappears. He slides out, his hand appearing, waiting to help me out of the car. I have to say, I would really get used to this gentlemanly treatment. I think any future dates I have will struggle to live up to this. Not that David and I aredating. How ridiculous. He places his hand on my back once again as he escorts me into the building, beelining for the security desk.
His phone is back out and he’s tapping away – emails, maybe? – while they take an awkward photograph of me and get me a security pass on to clip onto my belt. David leads me through the security line, I scan my pass and walk through a metal detector, my purse going through an airport style conveyor belt before we head up to the elevator. Once inside the packed elevator car, David presses the button for the thirty-fourth floor.
