Page 302 of New York Love Stories: Vol. 1

“You sound like a life coach.”

“I’ve been known to motivate . . .” It’s the perfect setup for a wink, but this isn’t about being cocky, patting myself on the back, or foreplay to bide time before dinner. This is about making sure Tatum finds what makes her happy. Not for me and not for the baby even though a kid needs to see that behavior modeled. This is about her.

I continue, “This is about creating the life you need instead of searching for it in others.” She hasn’t really let me into her life to see this, but from what I’ve observed over the years, I think she’s placed that expectation on others like her parents, boyfriends, or Natalie. That’s not saying she’s weak, but that she’s lacked the contentment within herself to know shecantake the lead in her own life.

She swings her feet to the floor and sits up. Staring at the food on the coffee table, she says, “Now I feel bad for indulging.”

“I didn’t say that to make you feel bad. I eat In-N-Out as soon as I land in LA.”

“I know what you mean. I just think I probably should have gone into work today.”

“Don’t you have your meeting with Dolores soon?”

Checking my watch, I have a few minutes before I need to leave. “I need to go, change clothes?—”

“You should bring some clothes over here since you’re always having to go back to Natalie’s.”

Now I’m the one staring. That’s what I call a turnabout. Warp speed indeed. “Are you sure?” I know how absurd it sounds that I’m asking to keep a few shirts over here when my baby already moved in.

She nods with a smirk. “I’m sure.” Getting up off the couch, she adds, “Lounge time is over. We have money to earn to support this kid. Mama’s gotta go earn some bacon. And you have a new listing to get.” Strutting into the other room, I watch that fine ass as she shakes it for me.

Just before she rounds the corner, she stops and whips around. Spreading her body lengthwise against the corner, she raises a leg and arm to look sexy. Does she not realize she doesn’t have to try with me? She purrs. “Or, if you have a few minutes, I could show you my birthmark.”

“Oh yeah? Where might that be?” I’m already heading straight toward her.

“Nowhere that the sunshine can reach.”

Fuck me, the vixen. I’ll lose a listing before I miss out on discovering a new territory to conquer on her body. Grabbing my hands, she tugs me into the bedroom and has her way with me.

* * *

“My apologies. Traffic is awful.”

Dolores opens the door wider to allow me entrance. “You’re not coming from next door?”

“I had an appointment in Tribeca, something I had to handle.”

She walks into the heart of the home. “Hope everything’s okay.”

I shut the door and follow her. “Yes, it’s perfect.”

And I’m completely satisfied.

When she sits on the couch, I choose the seat across the limestone and brass coffee table, and she says, “Harrison, I’m going to be up front with you. I’ve dealt with playboys and hotshots who have tried to get this listing. That’s not what I’m looking for.”

I’m not liking the sound of this or the way she’s staring at me like I’m just another hotshot in New York City. My California pride is offended.

“I adore Natalie and Nick. Andrew Christiansen, who lives two doors down, manages my portfolio, and I’ve raised money for The Jacobs Garden, Juni’s passion project. Every last one of them has spoken highly of you,” she continues.

“That’s nice to hear.” I lean forward, resting my forearms on my legs and keeping my hands clasped together. “Is there a but coming?”

“But,” she starts, not a trace of a smile, much less one that says I got this listing. “That was your girlfriend, not a client. Natalie told me about trying to talk her friend into buying the house, the same one you’re dating. I would also assume she’s the same person who left makeup on the fold of your collar.”

Makeup?

Shit.

Because of the fun Tatum and I had, I didn’t have time to change clothes. I wore this suit not only last night but also this morning to the doctors and lounging at Tatum’s apartment.

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