AllFreeNovel
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***
Turns out, there was no point in me going back to the office because none of the work I had to do got done. Instead, I sat at my desk with the door closed, caught up in thoughts of Allie and images of her billboard. I spent at least an hour googling the lingerie brand to find more pictures of her. And fuck there were plenty. Silk and lace sets in various colors barely covering her gorgeous body which was posed provocatively, lounging on a sofa, or smiling at the camera with a sweet innocence that reminded me of what she was like back in high school. I’ll never be able to unsee those images, and I suspect I’ll be wondering what she’s wearing underneath her clothes every time I see her from this day forward.
Fuck, if things between us weren’t bad enough before, I’m now screwed. Hunter was right this afternoon; I do have a thing for Allie. It’s an admission I haven’t wanted to make even to myself, but it was like a punch to the guts standing there on the busy sidewalk looking up at the giant-size photo of the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. Maybe it’s time I at least started treating her as a friend if she’s willing to accept that after my bad behavior. I can’t hope for more.
I leave work early for the first time in a long while, stopping to buy a special bottle of champagne on my way home, planning to put it in the fridge with a note congratulating her. I’ve convinced myself that Allie will be out celebrating with her fashionable friends, so when I walk into my kitchen a short while later, I’m shocked to find her there, alone.
Allie is stunning in the billboard advertisement, but the woman sitting at my kitchen counter eating noodles, in a baggy T-shirt with what looks to be a squirrel on it, and the words I’m nuts for you is even better. Nothing can detract from her natural beauty, and silly sense of humor.
With a casualness that I’m far from feeling, I say, “Hey, that smells good. What is it?” I’m hoping my gesture toward the takeout box in her hand and my words portray a friendly roommate vibe. It’s hard to know as friendly is not a familiar state for me.
She turns to look at me like I’ve got two heads but replies anyway. “Noodle Pot takeout. I over-ordered if you want some.” I guess I need to work on being friendly but at least I’m over the first hurdle because she replied.
For the first time, I notice the additional boxes on the counter. “What did you get?” I ask and a smile tilts my mouth up when I see exactly how many additional boxes there are. “Although maybe I should ask, what didn’t you get?”
I must be improving on my approach because this time she smiles back at me. “I couldn’t decide so I went with all my favorites, smoked pork ramen, mushroom ramen, and this is ginger chicken.” She holds up some curly twisted noodles in her chopsticks. “I figured you could eat the leftovers when you came in.”
She really is a much better person than me. There’s been a few nights now when I’ve come home late and found containers in the fridge with brightly colored sticky notes on them saying eat me. I’m beginning to think her over-ordering may be more planned than she implies.
“Do you mind if I join you?” I ask, gesturing to the empty barstool beside her.
“Hey, it’s your kitchen and barstool,” she says, then seeming to instantly regret the words, her head ducks low and her face is lost in a swathe of chestnut waves that shine under the overhanging lights with highlights that remind me of warm fall days.
I pull out the stool making sure I leave enough space between us. “Thanks. I wasn’t that hungry before, but I am now.” In all the awkwardness of our exchange, I’ve forgotten about the bottle of champagne in my hand.
I place it on the counter, clearing my throat. “Would you like a glass of champagne to go with it?” Her eyebrows arch up when she sees the golden bottle of Cristal champagne.
“The good stuff I see. Yes please.” I jump up to search through the cupboards for the champagne flutes and pour us both a glass.
“Luckily it’s still cold,” I mutter, not really sure what else to say to fill the silence.
I pass her one of the chilled glasses and then settle beside her. She’s staring at me again, her lips forming a soundless oh. I don’t blame her. I’m not someone who wastes words on trivial, obvious stuff and I’m rambling.
“What’s the occasion?” she asks a little warily while she passes me a pack of wooden chopsticks. I understand her trepidation because it’s been a long time since we actually sat down together and engaged in small talk, or any kind of talk. I select a random box from in front of me, not caring what’s inside because it all sounds good.
“It’s a celebration. You see, a funny thing happened today. Hunter took me out for a coffee and a walk to Times Square.” A faint blush spreads across her high cheekbones at the mention of Times Square. For all her successes and years of modeling for some of the biggest fashion houses, walking on catwalks in front of the rich and famous, she still blushes at the mention of her billboard.
“Oh. You saw it,” she says softly.
I can’t help grinning. “It’s kind of hard to miss it.” I lift my champagne flute to her. “That’s the reason for the champagne. Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” she says, her face lit up by a grin and she touches her fine-cut crystal glass to mine with a faint ring.
“It’s beautiful,” I blurt out, and she looks at me quizzically, her head at a slight tilt. I’ve no idea why I just said that out loud. Maybe she’ll think I meant the champagne. Seeing those photos of Allie today has fucked up my head.
I quickly stuff a mouthful of noodles into my mouth, hoping it will stop stupid words from tumbling out. The flavors dance around on my tongue.
“This is good,” I admit, choosing the safer topic of the food.
Allie laughs. “Of course. Takeout noodles with expensive champagne is a winning combination.”
“It will do until we can properly celebrate.” Her green eyes pop wide again. Fuck, words are coming out of my mouth that I seem to have no control over. “You know with the others,” I quickly add before placing the empty box on the counter and picking up another one.
She feeds another small bundle of noodles into her mouth, then stands up announcing she’s full. I watch her clear up, thinking I’ve scared her off again and this time I had no intention of doing it. But when she’s finished wiping the counter, she returns to sit beside me and tops up our champagne.
I rub my eyes, then push my eyeglasses higher up on my nose before turning to her. “Katie tells me that you’re retiring from modeling.”
Her smile is gentle when she looks at me. “Yes. It’s exciting and a little scary. But time for a change. Besides, I’m getting too old for this business.” She fidgets with the stem of her champagne glass. I want to place my hand over hers to still her nervous movements. We’ve not done this before, and maybe she’s finding it all a bit awkward too.
