“There’s always Otto,” I offer with a grin.
Surprisingly, she doesn’t say a thing. Instead, she scoops up her phone, slides a finger across the screen, and checks her text messages again.
* * *
Returningto the office after dinner wasn’t part of my evening’s plans, but I received an email froma client of Mr. Thorsen’s just as I was leaving the bistro.
He asked me to stop by his outdoor equipment store in the morning to pick up an envelope for my boss. Since I’ve sat in on almost every meeting he had with Rook when he was setting up his business several months ago, I happily agreed to drop in on my way to work.
I have no intention of showing up empty-handed. On the day of the store’s grand opening, I was there alongside my boss and I snapped a picture of him with his client.
After I had it framed, I stuck it in the bottom drawer of my desk. Tomorrow, I can hand-deliver it with a note from the law firm on my behalf, wishing him all the best.
I enter the lobby of the building and raise a hand in greeting to the man sitting behind a desk in the corner. Even though most of the people who work in this office tower have cleared out for the day, there are always a few who sneak in extra hours. I know I’ll see several familiar faces once I get to my floor.
“Miss Duvall!”
“Hi, Desmond,” I greet him with a smile as I approach where he’s now standing. “I need to run up to my office to grab something.”
“I’ll get the elevator for you,” he offers. “How has your night been so far?”
“Good,” I say honestly. “I had dinner with a friend at a bistro. It’s called Lise. Have you been?”
“I can’t say that I have.” He smiles as he jabs a finger into the elevator call button. “What do you recommend?”
“The sea bass.” I smile. “It’s so good.”
“I’ll stop in this week, and then we can compare notes.” He mimes writing something on his hand with an invisible pen. “I think I missed my calling. I could have been a food critic.”
“It’s never too late to change professions.” I glance up when the elevator dings.
As the doors slide open, I get ready to step inside, but I stop just short of the threshold because sin in a sexy suit is staring at me.
“Abigail.” Declan’s gaze skims over my blue blouse and faded jeans. “How are you?”
“I’m fine.” I manage to keep my tone even as I step aside to let him pass. “I’m here to pick up something.”
He nods but stands stoically in place. “I’ll ride up with you.”
That takes me by surprise, but I don’t show it. “There’s no need.”
“Need. Want.” He smirks. “I forgot something, so allow me the pleasure of keeping you company on the ride up.”
Desmond keeps his finger on the call button to hold the doors ajar. I feel stuck between good and the best kind of evil imaginable, but I take a step forward and then another until I’m standing next to Declan.
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
Abby
I try notto look at Declan as the elevator crawls toward my floor. Since I wasn’t prepared to see him, and I did indulge in half a bottle of wine with dinner, I don’t trust myself to make the wisest decisions at the moment.
“You look amazing,” he says in a low tone. “Were you on a date?”
That lures my gaze to his face. “What?”
For some twisted reason, I’m enjoying that he’s curious about where I was. I can’t imagine a scenario where my personal life matters to him, but I want to push this a bit.
“Were you on a date, Abigail?”