Page 81 of House of Desire

“Mitchel has everything under control on your house. And I will personally be calling the city to see if we can expedite a few of the steps. They know we offer quality in every step, so we can normally fast track a few things.”

I reach out and shake both of their hands. Splitting off to my office while Mitchel shows them out, I check my phone once more and the lack of a text makes me crazy. After our night together, which turned into an incredible morning, and the agreement to remain friends, I’m trying not to let my seeming obsession overtake me.

All this weekend did was strengthen my conviction I want to attempt a relationship with Anya, but if she wants to be friends, that’s what we’ll do.

No matter how much it kills me.

“What the fuck, dude,” Mitchel says, shutting the door as he joins me. “They are spending five fucking million dollars and you wouldn’t stop checking your phone. Which is happening almost constantly since you got back from the wedding the other day.”

“I might have hooked up with someone and I gave her my phone number and I’m waiting to hear from her,” I tell him, leaning back in my chair.

“Well, well, well. You little slut,” he says, shimming his shoulders. “Someone from the resort? How did you meet her?”

“It was a wedding guest.”

“Oh?”

“Lorelei brought Anastasia.”

“The girl from the show?” I nod. “The wife is rooting for her to win, you know. The press prefers Carmen, but she and you would never pair together long term.”

I drag my hands down my face before letting out a growl of frustration.

“Does everyone watch this stupid show? I swear I didn’t realize how many people were going to watch it. The cleaning guy the other day stopped me in the bathroom to tell me how stupid I was for sending Jasmine home. I was just trying to take a piss!”

“We just want to support you. You know that. Do we need to start hiring more hermits? Perhaps send a company wide memo to not talk about it?” he asks, suppressed laughter on his face.

“You’re fired.”

“You can’t fire me because you can’t stop looking at your phone for five seconds to even listen to a client.”

“Why are you in my office?”

“We need to go over the progress updates for the week.”

My hand reaches for my phone, but I successfully stop myself, keeping the slightest shred of my dignity, and focus on Mitchel once more.

Five minutes before close, I sit outside the bakery, knuckles white as I grip the steering wheel. I’ve been staring at the front door for the past ten minutes, but I can’t bring myself to get out.

“Just go in there. Just get out of the car,” I say to myself in the, thankfully, empty truck. “Open the door. Open the door. Do it. Do it now.”

My hand reaches out to the door handle, finally breaking through my nerves, and I make my way up to the bakery, remembering the hot kiss Anya and I shared the last time I was here. As I reach for the door, a man walks out.

His silk shirt is peacock blue, unbuttoned to below his sternum. A thick chain hangs round his neck with a diamond studded seventeen. Even without pads and a helmet on, I know Miles Lawson when I see him.

“Amazing catch the other day,” I say as I pass by him, through the door he holds open for me. It’s probably a regular occurrence to see Dom’s teammates around here wanting to support his sister.

“Thank you for saying that. Our quarterback put up an amazing toss,” he says before releasing the door and heading on his way.

A kid stands behind the counter, his mouth hanging open and a napkin in his frozen hand.

“You alright, kid?” I ask him, hoping he hasn’t gone into shock or something.

“That was Miles Lawson. He signed this for me. He shook my hand.” Awe drips from every word and I understand the feeling. My father took me to a few training camp sessions for the professional football team in Illinois. We would go for a few days and watch the teams practice, most of the players giving autographs and taking pictures after they were done for the day.

“His hand was huge!” he says with a giant smile on his face, before suddenly realizing I might need some help. “Oh, hi. Welcome to the Whimsical Whisk Bakery. Unfortunately, we are sold out today, but I can give you a coupon for another day for the inconvenience. We’ve been really busy since the owner was on some dating show. My mom watched it, but she said I wasn’t allowed to.” He rolls his eyes to show me what he thought of that rule and I try not to smile, liking the kid. “It’s not like I don’t know what boyfriends and girlfriends do. I have a girlfriend and we even kiss sometimes.”

“Kissing is a lot of fun, but maybe there are some other things she didn’t want you to see. Those shows aren’t really good for showing what relationships are really like.”

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