Page 40 of OneTime Lovers
This morning I took extra special care in choosing an outfit as I want to portray myself as professional, not the vacation fling girl. My tight black skirt and cream jacket over a silk shirt ticks all the power dressing boxes. So why am I so nervous?
As I wait outside the west side apartment, my fingers clutch the first set of keys so tightly, they’ve formed an imprint on the palm of my hand. My stomach is so full of butterflies, I couldn’t eat breakfast this morning and I’m even regretting the Americano coffee I had earlier.
I don’t think I’ve been this nervous about meeting a guy since I was a teenage girl going on my first date. Not that this is a date or even close to being one. No this is strictly business.
For the third time in five minutes, I check my cell. It still hasn’t reached ten o’clock, the hour we agreed to meet. I need to pull myself together and calm down.
Looking up from my cell, I see Scott exiting an Uber a short distance away. Why does he have to look so good in his dress pants, shirt, and blazer? It’s obvious getting over our strong physical attraction on the island is not going to be easy.
As he approaches, I stretch out my hand to him, but choosing to ignore it, he instead pulls me into his arms, brushing his lips across my cheek. No, no, no, this is totally inappropriate for a professional business meeting, but I don’t say a word.
Still holding me close, he mutters, “Good morning.” His deep low voice reminding me of how he would whisper dirty words into my ear as he plunged into my body.
Rapidly blinking, I push away from him, increasing the distance between our bodies. The dangerous double impact of his warm hands on my skin and intoxicating scent, pure alpha male mixed with expensive cologne, is destroying my carefully built personal barriers.
It’s a slightly awkward moment, and I look down at the electronic notepad clutched in my hand, searching for something to say, something that will bring us back to neutral ground. With a deep breath my composure shifts back in place, and I launch into a speech about the local area, the building facilities, and the apartment I’m about to show him.
I lead him through the lobby toward the bank of elevators and the more I talk about the property, the easier it becomes to slip into work mode.
Soon after entering the apartment, I can tell this one is not for him. He is being polite asking all the right questions, but I’ve been doing this long enough to know when the client isn’t really interested.
Smiling, I ask him straight up, “This isn’t the one, is it?”
“Not really, we should skip to apartment number two. I assume there is an apartment number two to look at.”
I glare at him. “Of course. In fact, I have four for you to see, although the list would have been longer if I’d had more time.” I can’t help having a dig at him about not giving me enough time, but his crooked smile tells me he’s not feeling any guilt over the situation.
Striding from the apartment, I throw over my shoulder, “C’mon, my driver is downstairs waiting to take us to the next one. It’s close to Luke’s place.”
A couple of hours later and we have viewed apartment two and apartment three. Apartment two is a no-go, way too cramped as I predicted, and apartment three is only a maybe.
At least we have one maybe before I have to show him the apartment in the Village.
Chapter 20
Scott
ApartmenthuntingwithJasmineis not turning out to be as much fun as I thought it would be. It’s time I did something to mix it up.
As we leave the lobby of the apartment three building, I notice a small Italian restaurant across the street. Pointing it out to Jas, I suggest we take a break for some lunch and a debrief. Her earlier frosty mood seems to have mellowed over the last couple of hours, and I can see a small window of opportunity to build on our fledgling friendship.
Still, she hesitates to accept my invitation. Without thinking, I grab her hand, announce I’m hungry, then virtually drag her across the street, and through the doors of the restaurant. The Maitre’d greets us in a cheery Italian accent, then with a couple of menus in his hand, leads us past tables filled with a lunchtime crowd, to a quiet table tucked away in a back corner.
Seated with the menus still closed in front of us, I worry that I’ve taken over again, I know Jas hates bossy men. “Sorry to race you off to lunch like that without asking. My only defense is I can’t concentrate when I’m hungry. I’m much more pliable when I’m fed and watered.” I offer her what I hope is a cheeky grin.
She smiles back at me. “You’re forgiven. To be honest, I’m hungry too.” Then as if to prove her point her stomach rumbles. Her hands fly up to cover her face but not enough for me to miss the flush of embarrassment.
Laughing, I unpeel her fingers and draw her hands back down to the table. “Don’t be embarrassed, Jas, I like how your stomach announces when it’s hungry.” What I don’t add is that I like how it reminds me of our afternoon interlude at the beach.
“Also, it makes me feel better now for having bundled you into this restaurant. Let’s order before your stomach complains again to me.”
Jas picks up the menu and starts flicking through the pages then having chosen in less than a minute, she closes it back up. Looking up at me, she says, “You know my mother would be appalled at my bad manners. I doubt I’ll ever live up to her standards of being a lady.” I’m confused till I realize she’s referring to her stomach rumbles. Sometimes it’s hard to keep up with the speed she moves between conversations.
“I think you’re a lady. A sexy, gorgeous lady.” I’m ridiculously pleased when I catch her eye roll, it’s damn cute.
“Scott, stop with the flirting, you know that we left all that behind on the island. Seriously, friends don’t say things like that to each other.”
“It’s nice to hear you acknowledge that we’ve moved from friends of friends to just friends. And you’re right I don’t say things like that to Luke and Blake, but then I don’t find them sexy or gorgeous. With you however, I call it as I see it.”
