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He laughed. “I can’t change that, but I’m sure he just thinks I’m a lucky guy.”
“And Mick? He’s my colleague. Does he know?”
“I haven’t spoken to him, but you’re colleagues, not ex-lovers. I want you there, and I want you to spend the night tonight.”
She knew she had to get over this hurdle, no matter how embarrassing it was. “Only if you promise me something.”
“Now who’s greedy?”
“I’m serious.” She squeezed her hands together to keep from chickening out. “I need this honesty. I need to know you’ll blow up or talk it out when my job takes over, which it will.”
“Do you think I’m going to keep my mouth shut?” He took her hands in his. “How will you react the first time you come into the bar and see a woman hitting on me?”
“I guess it wouldn’t be acceptable for me to deck her, would it?” She was only half kidding. “I’ve never been a jealous person, but just hearing you say that makes my stomach hurt.”
“It happens a lot, but you’ll have to trust that I know where to draw the line.”
“How is thisat allrelevant to what I asked of you?”
He kissed the back of her hand and said, “Because you have to trust that I’ll be honest in all aspects of our relationship, not just this one. And I have to trust that you’ll figure out where to draw the line with your work and that you’ll be honest when something pisses you off.”
“Blurry lines,” she said softly.
He smiled. “A kaleidoscope of colors, blurry lines. Nothing’s black or white, except trust. I think that’s pretty definitive. You can either trust that I’ll be honest or not.”
As he pulled her up to her feet, she said, “I do.”
He nuzzled her neck and reached for the button on her jeans. “Good, because I honestly want to get you out of those tight jeans right now.”
Chapter Twenty
THE WEEK FLEW by at breakneck speed. Monday Tiffany and Miranda used Skype to catch up to speed on clients, and together they picked out office furniture. Even though they had spoken and exchanged texts often while Miranda was gone, it was nice to actuallyseeher. She’d finally heard back from her friend Shea about snowboarder Anika Bouchert and was able to schedule a surprise visit for Bethany. She hadn’t even told Dylan yet. She was excited to do something for him after he’d done so much for her and been so patient and understanding about her work. He’d been working a slew of hours at the bar, and they’d been alternating between staying at her apartment and staying at his. She preferred to stay at his place, which had surprised her, but it was easier to turn her brain off at his apartment than at hers since she’d been using hers as an office for the past two months. Dylan’s sink and dishwasher had been delivered Tuesday, and she’d helped him install them last night. Well, she hadn’t exactly helped. More likedistracted. He’d worn that sexy tool belt again. She’d tried to behave, but…
She pushed the button on the elevator in her new office building Thursday morning, excited to finally be moving in and working in the same office with Miranda after so many years of connecting via telephones and computers. She’d picked up the keys and walked through the space with Phoebe earlier in the week and she couldn’t wait to show it to Miranda. A few weeks ago she might have been so focused on work, she wouldn’t have considered that working in the same office with Miranda would allow them to get closer on a personal level. Now the thought made her happy. She felt herself changing in so many ways, and she knew it was because of Dylan. He made her want to slow down, and the more she did, the more she recognized what she was missing.
“There you are,” Miranda said as Tiffany stepped off the elevator. Her brown hair was swept up in a high, efficient ponytail. She was tall and thin and sporting a gorgeous new tan that hadn’t come across quite as beautifully via Skype. “The delivery truck is around the corner. I was worried you got stuck in traffic or decided you didn’t want me to invade your personal space and were moving back to L.A.” She arched a brow with the tease. She knew Tiffany so well.
“I had to finish a call with my father before I got on the elevator, and then I texted Rocco and Perry to make sure they knew he was doing okay. I swear, I don’t know how anyone got anything done before cell phones. Don’t worry. There’s no way I’m moving back to L.A. This is going to begreat. Andyoulook incredible.”
“Thanks. So do you. Is your dad okay?”
“Yes, much better. I need to try to get over and see him soon.” She’d been thinking about Dylan’s comment about seeing her father more often and had taken extra time on the phone with him. “The movers picked up my files about an hour ago, and they had another stop to make, so they should be here within the next hour. Did you arrange for a car to pick up Anika at the airport?” She hadn’t told Miranda about Dylan yet. She and Miranda were close, but since they worked remotely and were always slammed with work, the topic of men rarely came up. She wanted to tell her, but not when they were about to meet movers. Maybe she’d tell her when they were setting up the office and had time to themselves.
“Yes, and there will be a thank-you basket waiting for her in her hotel room.”
“Perfect. And now that we have a real office, you can run that ad to hire another agent.”
“Already on it, with résumés going to a new email address so your in-box doesn’t get bogged down. I’ll send you the log-in info when we’re done here.”
“You’re so on top of things. Thank you.” Tiffany unlocked the door to the office space and pushed the door open. They both gasped at the sight of stunning peace lilies in beautiful ceramic pots in the middle of the room, surrounded by several bouquets of paper flowers in glass vases. The leaves were made of what looked like pages from books and interspersed with flowers made from red paper. “Miranda, did you…?”
Miranda followed her inside. “No. I guess you didn’t either?”
“No.” She stooped to look more closely at the paper flowers. Each one had several petals blooming from a shiny white button in the center and wider petals on the outer edges. Each of the pages was outlined in red, making the black lettering on the cream paper look even more pronounced.
“It’s origami. My brother used to do it. This must have taken someone days to make. Oh! There’s a card.” Miranda snagged the card from one of the bouquets and her shoulders slumped. “Wrong office. Figures. It’s for someone namedSummer Girl.”
“Um…” She plucked the card from Miranda’s hands.
