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Ignoring the thought, I make her a coffee and pull together a quick lunch of leftovers and put it on the kitchen counter before I sneak back into her room with the hot brew. I place the coffee on her side table, and I bend down to kiss her cheek before I whisper to her.
“Bye, Pinkie. I need to go and make a few million today.” I smile a little before I pull back and start to turn.
“Okay, good luck with that,” she murmurs, and I still before I smile.
“Bye, baby. See you tonight,” I say, coming back and giving her another peck on her cheek.
“Bye, pretty boy,” she says, still sleepy, and I leave her to rest as I quietly exit the apartment, then run to the elevator, already late for my busy day.
* * *
I readthe contract in front of me as I pace my office. My cell phone sits in my hand. I just sent a text to Katie, asking her favorite dessert, secretly hoping it is chocolate, because I have already ordered supreme chocolate sundaes from Softies, the local ice creamery—they are old school, make the best sundaes, and are not too far away. I will pick them up after work so we can eat them in the apartment, the two of us not eager to get out into the world yet. I know the minute we do, her life will change, and I am not yet sure if it is something she wants.
My cell vibrates.
Pinkie: Um, chocolate. It is seriously God’s work.
Laughing, I send her a laugh and heart emoji, knowing that she can’t be on her cell at work, yet not able to stay away from her for long periods. I’m a goner for her. Hook, line, and sinker.
“Here’s your coffee, sir,” Miranda, my assistant, says, walking into my office and placing the steamy cup in front of me.
“Thank you, Miranda,” I say as she slowly retreats. “Oh, Miranda?” I question, a thought suddenly coming to me.
“The baskets that the marketing team prepare for all our tenants…” I start, my mind racing to Katie’s kitchen and at the fact that out of the two baskets I gave her since she moved in, only the artisan biscuits were gone from both of them. Even the wine sat untouched until I opened a bottle with dinner last night.
“Yes, sir?” Miranda asks, bringing me back to reality.
“They have these cookies in them. A passionfruit and white chocolate?” I rub my head. This is such an odd request.
“Oh yes, they are delicious. My favorite.” My eyebrows shoot up. Okay, clearly, they are good. I must try them.
“Can you bring me a carton?” I ask her, and she pauses.
“A box?” she clarifies.
“No, a carton,” I clarify. I grabbed the other box from Brian’s office, and the rate in which Pinkie consumes an entire box, I know I need a good supply handy.
“Sure. I will have them bring it up today,” she says with a smile. “Also, your mother is due to arrive any minute.” At the mere mention of my mother, my smile drops.
“Shit. I forgot she was coming in. What is she in for again?” I ask, her visit totally slipping my mind.
“She only said it was to go through a list?” Miranda replies, confused, and I sigh, already feeling the weight of her and she isn’t even here yet. It is a month, almost to the day, since she told me of her desire to set me up with one of Baltimore’s socialites. Giving me her deadline to find a suitable woman, one which I have no intention of sticking to. I run my hand through my hair, thinking of Katie. I can’t believe I met her almost the same day and have fallen so hard so quickly for her. Two totally different outcomes, none of which was expected.
“Shit,” I say, scrubbing a hand down my face. This is absolutely the last thing I need.
“Oh, not at your desk again, I see.” My mother walks straight into my office and immediately berates my assistant.
“Thank you, Miranda,” I say, nodding to her as she leaves, closing the door on what will no doubt be a highly sensitive discussion, at best.
“Mom. Good to see you,” I lie through my teeth, but still feeling upbeat. I have found a woman. It just isn’t a woman Mom is going to like.
“Edward,” she says, her tone clipped, as she takes a seat, smoothing out her unwrinkled clothing.
“So what’s happening?” I ask her as I take a seat at my desk, opposite her. Needing the desk between us. Needing the authority of my position in this discussion.
“It has been a month, Edward. Now I know you haven’t found anyone on the list, so I have taken the privilege of organizing dinner for you tonight with Valerie Van Cleef.” My teeth grind instantly. The Van Cleefs are nice. One of the nicer families in the city. I know Valerie too. She just turned twenty-one, and I am pretty sure I saw her at a club a few months ago, dancing with her friends. She is nice, just not the woman I want.
“Well, you can cancel it,” I tell her, trying to keep composed.
