Page 71 of Dreamboat

I may be a strong proponent of how peaceful this city is at night, but someone not far from here is blasting their vehicle’s horn. It’s fucking annoying, but I still wouldn’t trade living in Manhattan for any other place on earth.

“No.” I slow my pace. “I was called in for an emergency. I’m on my way home now.”

“I thought Matthew was on call.” She pauses briefly before going on, “I saw him earlier. He came here and brought dinner.”

“He told me,” I tell her. “We talked.”

Silence stretches across the line for a few seconds. I anticipate that she’s going to ask me what I discussed with her brother, but that’s not the question that she tosses at me. “Can we talk?”

“Any time,” I say as I start walking again. “You have my full attention whenever you want it.”

“Now?”

A smile spreads over my lips. A guy passing by me, nods his chin and sends a smile right back at me.

I don’t give a shit if he thinks the smile was directed at him. If it brightened his night, I consider that a bonus.

“Now works,” I try to level my tone.

“In person,” she clarifies before I can ask if she wants to do this face to face. “Can you come to my place, Donovan?”

“I’m on my way.”

“I’ll let the doorman know to expect you,” she tells me. “He’ll bring you up.”

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” I say, knowing from experience that I can get a rideshare fairly quickly at this time of night.

“Thank you.” The distinctive sound of her taking a deep breath follows. “See you soon.”

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Delia

As soon as Donovan steps into the foyer of my penthouse, I thank the doorman and shut the door.

I tip well, and often, so I didn’t see the need to do it now. I’m a bundle of nerves and it’s not because I’m worried that Matthew will circle back around and catch his boss here.

It’s the middle of the night so I’m confident he’s tucked into bed next to his fiancée.

“Your home is beautiful, Delia.”

For a very long, I wanted to answer that by saying that it’s not my home. I’ve been here for many years and in may ways it still feels that way, but I’m learning to accept the gifts that Grace gave to me and I don’t just mean the tangible things.

She encouraged me to give myself space to find my destiny.

I am almost there in terms of my professional path and I think I’m there personally, too.

“Thank you,” I say. “Are you hungry?”

He lets out a low chuckle. “I kind of am.”

“I have leftover spaghetti I can warm up,” I offer. “There’s cheesecake, too, although I’ve already eaten two slices of that.”

“All of that sounds great.”

“Is water okay to drink?” I ask. “I don’t have any beer or wine or anything like that here. I think I have some juice.”

“Water suits me fine.”

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