Page 46 of Greed

“You like her.” He tones down his last statement. “We can at least agree on that, right?”

“I do like her.”

“Good.” He gives me one last tap on the shoulder. “I want you as happy as I am. I think you’re finally on that path.”

* * *

The most welcomesight imaginable greets me as I stroll through the lobby toward the elevators.

I’m on my way up to my office.

Abby, it seems, is on her way out.

Her entire face lights up the second she sees me.

“Hey!” I call out to her. “Where are you headed?”

“I have a date.” Her gaze trails over my face. “Is the baby as sweet as can be?”

“False alarm,” I say in response, mildly annoyed that she’s leaving the office mid-day to go on a date.

I’m tempted to tell her we have work to do, but until Kalina’s lawyer reaches out, the deal to purchase Llura is paused.

“Oh?” Her nose scrunches. “Was it Braxton Hicks?”

I chuckle. “An hour ago, I had no idea they were a thing, but I’ve since learned more than any single man needs to know about contractions.”

I have no fucking idea why I added the bit about being single. It’s obvious I am. She is too, and apparently weighing her options in that regard since she’s on her way to a date.

Her gaze drops to the elegant pearl-encrusted watch on her wrist. “An asparagus fern is waiting for me.”

It takes me a second to process that. “Who is waiting for you?”

“One of Mr. Thorsen’s clients.” She shakes her head. “One of Rook’s clients. She has a passion for plants. Whenever I drop in to see her, I get a lesson in how to nurture my non-existent green thumb.”

Relief grips me harder than it should at the knowledge that she’s not rushing to see a guy.

“I need to go.” She points toward the lobby doors. “She’s expecting me for tea in ten minutes. I have some documents for her to look over.”

I catch sight of the corner of a manila envelope peeking out from the leather tote bag in her hand.

“I won’t keep you.” I step aside.

“I’ll talk to you soon?” she asks as she brushes past me.

I can’t resist the temptation to reach out to touch her wrist. I skim a fingertip across it. “You can talk to me all you want over dinner tonight.”

That stops her in place. Her gaze locks on mine. “I can do that, but nothing fancy, okay? Can we grab a burger or something? Keep it low-key?”

“Whatever you want.”

“It’s a date.” Her hand jumps to her mouth. “No. I mean, it’s a hangout.”

I grab her wrist this time, firmly, so she can’t escape my grasp. “It’s a date, Abigail.”

That sends a smile coasting over her lips. “It’s a date. I’ll meet you here at eight?”

“Right here?” I point to the floor.

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