Page 122 of It's Not PMS, It's You
He scratched the side of his face. “I do really want to see you . . .”
“Well, then? Come with me. We don’t have to stay till the end.”
“Okay, okay. Count me in.”
“Great!” I reached up and kissed him.
I felt better that he agreed to come after I made the mistake of double-booking my evening.
And maybe it wouldn’t be that bad.
It was just a party.
What could possibly go wrong?
Chapter Twenty-Four
RUTH
I jerked my head back in surprise when I opened my front door and saw Nick standing there in a charcoal suit, crisp white shirt, and a black tie.
Every time I had seen him since we had met in person for the first time, he had been wearing shorts and a polo shirt with his company logo on it. Short pants were the norm all-year-round for most people working outdoors in gardens, since Del Mar’s climate was considered to be just like the Mediterranean with warm, dry summers and mild, humid winters.
But still . . .
Nick cleaned up well.
He looked dapper, debonair, and delicious.
I smiled. “I’m beginning to understand why the women in college called you Nick-fil-A.”
Nick grinned. “Thank you.” He glanced at my black cocktail dress and my four-inch stilettos, grinning. “AndI’mbeginning to wonder why you don’t have a nickname likeBabeRuth. Maybe we can skip the party and stay right here.”
I patted him on the chest. “That’s more tempting for me than you’ll ever know, but I’m required to be at the party, and I don’t want to be fired before I become managing partner. Sometimes a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.” I motioned to his truck on the street. “Now, let’s get out of here before I change my mind.”
Nick drove us to the Hilton San Diego near the Del Mar Fairgrounds and Racetrack, just five minutes away from where I lived.
We passed through the lobby and down the hallway, following the arrows on the signs that said, “Stansfeld Investments Celebration - Courtyard Terrace.”
“I forgot to ask, what did you do with Karma for the evening while we’re here?”
“She’s with my mom.” He chuckled. “And she says she’ll let me know if she’s ever going to give her back to me or not.”
I laughed. “I like your mom.”
He smirked. “Me too, but she’s not keeping my dog. I’ve become attached to her rather quickly. She’s a good girl, and very sweet.”
Nick and I both glanced through the open doors of a banquet room as we walked by it, the music from the DJ, the colorful lights, and the packed dance floor catching our attention.
He grabbed my hand and pulled me to a stop. “I think this party will bemuchmore fun. Let’s crash it. What do you say?”
I shook my head. “I saynice try. You’re not getting out of this now. Let’s go.” I walked toward the door leading out to the Courtyard Terrace and the pool.
Nick passed me, pushing open the glass door. “You can’t fault me for trying.”
I smirked and walked by him. “It was a valiant effort.”
The Courtyard Terrace had white lights strung above the heads of my coworkers with the swimming pool illuminated just behind them. Jazz music played in the background and waiters walked around, offering drinks and appetizers. There were no chairs, just tall cocktail tables that everyone hovered around as they ate, chatted, and drank their favorite alcoholic beverages.
