“Opal Waverly?” Sheila repeats her name. “That’s the woman Percy Haines is interested in. She’s opening that board game bar.”
This is what a rock-solid investigative team will get a man like me. They do all the groundwork, and I go in for the finer details. I can then hand that information to our clients to give them a fighting chance at love with the women they want. That’s after I help guide them to be the best men they can possibly be.
“That’s her.” Lola sticks her head out the window to inhale another breath of fresh air. “I found a few pictures of her online. She’s adorable.”
“She’s fucking beautiful,” I say without applying any filter to that or my voice, so the desire I feel for Miss Waverly is dripping off every syllable.
“What?” Lola asks, approaching me. “Did you just say she’s fucking beautiful, William?”
I glance at her neon green socks. The shade is an exact match to the T-shirt she’s wearing. “That color suits you, Lola.”
“Don’t fall in love with a client.” Sheila accentuates that with a poke of her finger into my shoulder. “You know you can’t do that.”
I laugh it off. “Fall in love? Me?”
Lola joins in with a soft giggle. “He’s right, Sheila. You know William. He’ll never give his heart to one woman because he’s too busy…”
“Giving something else to as many women as he can?” Sheila finishes Lola’s sentence.
I’ve enjoyed the company of a fair number of women since I discovered the joys of fucking, but I’m not dicking someone new every night. “Now, ladies.”
“No sex talk.” Sheila shakes her head. “William’s personal life is his business.”
I didn’t set that rule, but they’ve all honored it since we started working together.
“As long as he doesn’t fall for a woman a client wants.” Lola throws me a cautionary look.
Just as I’m about to tell her that won’t happen, an alarm sounds from her watch. “It’s go-time, William. You’re meeting Asger Hassing in twenty minutes.”
I head toward my private office to switch out into a fresh suit. “On it.”
“How did it go with Rose Petal last night?” Sheila asks from behind me. “Do you think there’s a possibility for a future for the two of them?”
I turn and smile. “Let’s just say that I sense a wedding is in their near future.”
Lola claps her hands. “I told you they’d be a good match. I could feel it in my gut, and I’m never wrong about love.”
She’s right. Lola is never wrong about love. She also has a gift for knowing exactly what I’m thinking or feeling before I say a word. She picked up on my reaction to how beautiful Opal Waverly is. I need to control myself because Percy is the man who wants Opal, and he’s paying us a massive amount of money to give him a fighting chance to win her heart.
7
Opal
I tug on my ponytail,trying to straighten it. I know it’s not perfect, but it’ll have to do. I tried three different hairstyles and just as many outfits before I left my apartment. I finally settled on the slightly off-center ponytail before putting on a pair of jeans, a lilac T-shirt, and the vintage plaid raw trim jacket that the previous tenant of my apartment left behind. It’s a mix of black and white with big gold buttons. It’s not everyone’s style, but it suits me just fine.
I glance around the crowded café and spot the man I’m searching for right away. William Knight towers above many of the patrons of this establishment who are looking for their morning caffeine fixes. I’ve already quenched mine since I had two cups of coffee at home. That’s what waking up at five a.m. does to a person.
The noisy shower in my neighbor’s apartment initially jolted me awake. After that, a million thoughts about Turquoise Crown crowded my mind, so I got out of bed to jot down a few fabulous ideas. After that, the man I’m looking at now stole all of my brain space.
I have no idea if this meet-up is a date or not.
He somehow convinced me that having coffee together would repay my debt to him since I showered his arm with Dicey Dip yesterday.
“Opal!” he calls out to me. Virtually every woman in the café turns to look because his voice is like velvet with just a hint of raw need in it.
What? Where did that thought come from?
There’s no raw need in his voice. It’s called sleepy hoarseness. That must be what it is.