Page 192 of Small Town Firsts
“All right, I’ll check in again tomorrow.” Bart sighed. “I hate fucking waiting.”
“You and me both,” I said under my breath as I hung up.
Phone in my hand, I debated my lunch choices. If I wasn’t heading to the diner, I needed some sustenance. Maybe I’d ask Shelly to pick me up a sub when she was down at the bank, since Thursday was payday.
Thursday already. I hadn’t talked to Ally since Saturday afternoon. Almost a freaking week.
But who was keeping score? Not me. I scarcely had even noticed that we never went this long without talking. Even after the kiss following Laurie’s bathtub adventure, we’d bumped into each other at the diner midweek.
Bumped into meaning I’d gone over there intentionally because her blueberry pie was the best on the planet, but whatever. I wasn’t going to do that this time. Even if it meant I starved to death.
I reached for my office phone just as the button for the receptionist’s line lit up. I grinned. That woman was a godsend. “Hey, Shell, can you stop by Jersey Angel’s while you’re out at lunch?”
“Sure. Pastrami on rye, light mayo, extra Russian, leaf lettuce, not shredded, tomatoes, extra peppers and onions?”
“You’re the best. And a brownie. Cheesecake if they have it.” Damn sweet tooth.
“Of course. Grape soda?”
In front of anyone else, I would be slightly embarrassed about my pedestrian food choices. Shelly, however, had worked for the family business for more than a decade. She knew my weaknesses.
Even those that came in purple cans.
“Yes, please. Thanks so much.”
“No problem. One more thing, sir.”
“Ahh, Christ, not the fucking sir shit—” I broke off as the door to my office swung open and Ally stepped inside carrying a Hamilton Realty folder.
The one that probably contained the contract I’d had drawn up.
I swallowed deeply enough that Shelly probably heard it. Maybe Ally too. Fuck, had she always been this beautiful?
Probably. I’d just been blind. A complete fool.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Ally said tentatively, gripping the folder until it dented.
Good sign? Bad sign? Impossible to say for sure. She might’ve returned the signed version, or she could be plotting to throw it in my face. With Ally, one was never certain.
Just another thing I loved about her. Platonically loved. Like a friend I had sex with.
Greatsex.
“You’re not interrupting,” I said to Ally. “You know you have a standing invitation. Just a second.”
I returned to my phone call. “Thanks so much, Shell. Gotta go.” I clicked off without finding out if Shell’s one thing was to announce Ally’s impending arrival.
It didn’t matter. I’d deal with anything else later. Like next year.
“It’s the middle of the workday. I should’ve called first, but?—”
“No need. Standing invitation,” I repeated, rising and coming around the desk. I met her at the door and closed it, using the wood for support as I indulged in a nice long look at her. “You look incredible.”
It wasn’t an exaggeration. Her dark hair had been left long and loose, flowing down her bare back. She had on a redsundress type thing that showed off her breasts and narrow waist, not to mention her long legs that went on forever and ended in strappy red sandals.
Even her toenails were a dark, vampish red. My tongue tingled. I’d never been one for sucking on feet, but for her, I just might start.
Her cheeks reddened. Seeing Ally blush was a new thing. I liked it. A lot.
