Page 69 of Swiped
“Of course it does, superstar.” He gave her chin a soft pinch. “And yes, I’m in.”
Nat wanted to go back to sleep and ravage his body all at the same time.
“I can’t let this Rami character win!” he said, setting his coffee cup on the floor. He wrapped his long legs around her and pulled her in close. “Plus, I could get in a word or two about myself, right?”
* * *
Rami walked Allison along the sparkling bay at Crissy Field, as dog walkers and kite-fliers soaked up the picture-postcard day around them.
“Favorite food?” he asked her.
Her face scrunched with mock distress. “Ooh, tough one! A Denver omelet, but only at Margo’s Diner back home at three in the morning after an all-night rager with the gals.” She laughed at some hidden memory. “This one time at the diner, my friend Carrie . . .” She stopped and bit her lip. “Never mind. How about you?”
Rami thought he saw her eyes film over with tears, but it was also an awfully windy day. He shrugged it off. “My mother’sbaingan bharta.”
“What’s that?”
“Never mind. Favorite song?”
“Oh, geez, well it’s kinda embarrassing but it reminds me of all my sorority gals, and then it was also the song I danced to in the Little Miss Western Minnesota pageant . . . do I have to say?”
“No, that’s OK. What about pets? Pro or con?”
“Pro! We had the cutest dog growing up. Her name was Buffy! And then one year, she had puppies out in the barn, and my dad let us each keep one but he didn’t tell us we could until Christmas morning . . .” She trailed off again. “Sorry, I keep talking about home. It’s pretty much all I can think about, you know?”
Rami took her hand. “Well let me take your mind off it.”
He kissed her, but her lips barely moved.
“Thanks, you’re really sweet,” she said softly.
He searched her face for the familiar, telltale sign of rejection, but didn’t see any. She just seemed to be somewhere else. He tucked a long, burnt orange curl behind her ear. “Be my date to a work party this week?”
Allison startled and looked at him with uncertain eyes. “I don’t know . . . meeting all your co-workers and stuff?”
“I work alone! So, it’ll just be other industry people who don’t matter.” He smiled. “It could be good networking for you.”
“But I moved here because I have a job already . . .”
“But you never know, right?” The scant forty-eight hours until the BuzzFill deadline loomed in his mind. “Come on! Be my devastatingly beautiful plus-one?”
A smile broke through her gloom. “All right, all right!” She sighed in self-recrimination. “Geez, it’s just a party, after all. Sorry I’m such a downer.”
He pulled her close. “You’re perfect.” He moved in to kiss her, but she squirmed and ducked her head for a chaste hug.
Rami’s mind raced. It was technically true that he hadn’t told her all of the details of the BuzzFill event, but he had a strong feeling that a livestreaming interview would scare her away. If she was upset, he would make it up to her afterward. For now, everything was going to plan.
* * *
Nat couldn’t eat another bite. Thom had taken her to a French bistro pop-up with only a handful of tables inside a tiny, unmarked storefront. Even Sara had allowed herself to be impressed when Nat told her about the reservation. After cocktails, three courses, and a full bottle of wine, she was stuffed beyond thinking straight. But even fully sober, she couldn’t have begun to imagine what all this would cost.
Thom took her hand over the white tablecloth. “I might be new to San Francisco, but I think I like it here.”
Nat let herself drink in his boyish blond curls, his deep blue eyes shining at her, and the way the tealight flickered on the angles of his cheeks. “I’m really glad you think so.”
Thom twisted one of the rings around on her finger as he spoke. “So, this BuzzFill interview tomorrow — the other guy will be there, right? Rami, is that his name?”
Hearing Rami’s name in Thom’s jungle cat voice sounded jarring to Nat, like clashing worlds. She shook her head. “He’ll be there, but you won’t have to talk to him. In fact, please don’t.”
