“She’s a nice lady.” He smoothly accepted the bill and tucked it away as he went to open the door.
I waited for the woman who’d walked inside to be out of earshot and the door was shut before pushing for more.
“Is she married? Dating?”
“No. I mean, at least, not that I know of. I worked the evening shift until about two weeks ago, and I don’t think she’s ever brought a guy home.” He shrugged. “I guess she could be involved with somebody here in the building, but I’ve never seen her with him if she was.”
I asked a few more questions, but beyond her name— Jasmine Moors—and the fact that she gave all the lobby staff and housekeeping nice tips on the holidays and never treated the employees poorly, I didn’t learn much.
It was a decent start, though.
I had her full name.
* * *
Later in the day, coming out of the building elevator, I heard her voice.
Slowing my steps, I looked around and caught sight of her pacing by the bank of windows with her phone in hand. My heart pounded faster when I saw her all decked out.
After getting her full name earlier, I had looked her up online, and found an interesting interview from the New Entrepreneur magazine’s website.
Jasmine Moors—Jazz—was single, thirty-five years old. Along with her best friend, Cam, she ran a gaming company that was considered one of the best up-and-coming platforms in the world.
I’d read half a dozen more interviews, listened to a couple of podcasts, and now wanted to spend time with her.
Everything I’d found was all business related, though. My attempts to learn anything personally beyond her single status and a long-standing friendship with her business partner, had come up empty.
That was fine. I’d prefer to find out about her the old-fashioned way—a few dates, hopefully culminating with her in my bed. Bound or in handcuffs, maybe.
Her gaze bounced off my face as she swung around.
I slowed, her frustration obvious even though she wasn’t speaking at present, as she listened to the person on the other end of the line.
Her eyes came back to mine, and her cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink, but she offered a faint half-smile in greeting before focusing back on her call.
“Of course, Saul. I just want you to understand I’m not going to be able to get another afternoon free for several weeks.”
She came to a stop in front of the large window, and stared out at the bustling New York City traffic, her shoulders rigid, spine unbending.
“Of course. I’ll see about having my PA reach out in a few weeks.”
She lowered the phone but didn’t turn, the air around her charged with tension.
I hesitated, not sure if I should approach.
In the end, I moved to stand at her side, keeping a good two feet of distance between us.
“Everything alright?” I asked.
She sighed. “More or less. I’m just supremely annoyed about giving in for an interview I didn’t want to do in the first place, and now it’s been canceled on me—thirty minutes before I’m supposed to be there. I was just about to catch a cab, and they called and canceled.”
“They canceled on you with only a half-hour notice?” I scowled. “Well, that’s unprofessional. Did they have the decency to be in a car accident or something?”
She laughed, the sound bright and open. I couldn’t not look at her. Facing her, I caught her eyes just as she went to look away.
Her breath caught as our gazes connected, and I could all but hear a little click, as something in me recognized something in her.
She cleared her throat and looked away, tucking a golden-brown hair behind her ear. “No.” She scowled at her vague reflection in the window. “There was a last-minute chance for him to interview with a competitor—one who tried to buy us out last year—and he made sure to point that out.”