Page 28 of The Singles Club
“Where to?” he asked.
I gave him Vivian’s address, and he looked at me through the rearview mirror. “Is this a date?”
My palms got even clammier. “No… more like a business arrangement.”
“Oh. I see.” By the smirk on his lips, it didn’t take me long to realize what he thought I meant.
“Notthatkind of business arrangement.”
“Hey, I don’t judge, Mr. Cooper. A man has needs. I get it.”
I rubbed at my forehead. “She’s not an escort. She’s a friend.”
“Okay.” He winked. “A friend with a business arrangement.”
“Just drive,” I said, giving up.
I was about ten minutes early when we pulled up to a brownstone apartment on Beacon Street.
“I’ll let myself out,” I said. I walked up to the front door and buzzed her apartment number. After waiting for about ten seconds, I wasn’t sure if I should buzz again. I didn’t want to seem impatient. By the way I was sweating, this was feeling more and more like a real date than I was comfortable with.
“Justin?” Vivian’s voice said through the intercom.
“Yes, it’s me.”
“Come on up.”
The lobby area was quite clean and updated, yet the wallpaper, crown molding, and staircase still held that historic charm that I loved in brownstones. I started up to the second floor, and then the third. It was undoubtedly an excellent way to keep fit, but not so good when I was already sweating like a pig. I wiped at my forehead and smoothed out my hair before knocking.
Vivian opened the door, her hairstyle reminiscent of Ingrid Bergman inNotorious. She wore a classic black V-neck dress. She was the perfect picture of elegance, and my throat grew tighter at the sight of her.
She stepped aside. “Please, come in.”
Her apartment was not how I expected it to be. I had imagined it colorful and modern, but this was more antique and museum-like with the number of old oil paintings and portraits hanging on the walls.
“This is a family apartment,” she said as she noted my glances around. “My father lives in the Berkshires and my brother in the South Shore area. They use this while staying in the city.”
“And how did you end up here?” I asked.
She turned away and grabbed her purse. “A temporary stay until I move to Paris.” She smiled, but it seemed forced. “Are you ready for our date?”
My stomach tumbled upon hearing the word, and I suddenly felt a bit nauseous. “Listen, I know you didn’t really want to do this. We can tell Isabella we met for our date…”
She tilted her head. “Are you okay?”
“Do you have any water?”
“Of course.”
I found the first seat available and wiped my palms down my slacks.
Dammit, Justin. Pull yourself together.
She handed me a tall glass of water, and I downed nearly half of it in one go.
“Are we still doing this honesty thing?” she asked.
I nodded, looking down at the glass.
