The following morning flies by in a blur. I take care of everything I need to do, making sure to tie up all loose ends before I leave for the weekend.
I wonder what he’s got up his sleeve. The anticipation of what’s to come only fuels my desire for Alex.
I make my way to the front door, passing Sandra on the way out. “Have a nice weekend,” I call out, unable to keep from smiling.
“What? You’re leaving?” she asks, a note of surprise in her voice.
“Yeah, I thought I’d leave early today, you know, get an early start on the weekend.” I hope she doesn’t push for more information. I don’t want to lie to Sandra, but I was not going to tell her anything about Alex and me. I knew she would be concerned, and frankly, it’s no one’s business.
“Oh. Well, that’s great,” she says, clicking her pen. “You know, Dean asked about you the other night, wanted me to tell you he says hello.”
“Really? Tell him I said hi and I hope he’s doing well.”
“I’ll do that. So, big plans for the weekend?” Sandra asks.
“Not really,” I shrug, hoping I sound nonchalant. “Don’t stay too late, I’ll see you Monday.” I give her a hug goodbye, and hurry out the door.
Just as he said, Alex arrives at two o’clock sharp. I’m zipping up my bag, and my cell jingles with the sound of a text from Alex, letting me know he’s arrived. I punch in the code to the front lobby door, allowing him entrance into the building. A few moments later, a soft knock on the door. I stand on my tippy toes, looking through the peephole. It’s Alex. I open the door and come face to face with him, in all of his British gorgeousness. He’s dressed casually in dark jeans, a polo shirt, and aviator sunglasses. Sex radiates from him, hitting me in full force. I want to rip his shirt off right there and devour him.
He smiles seductively, removing his shades. “Hello.”
“Hi,” I respond. We lock eyes, both unable to tear our gaze away from one another. No other man has ever had this kind of effect on me.
“Please, come in,” I say, opening the door, trying to compose myself. Alex strides in, glancing around. He eyes are drawn to the windows, the view of the courtyard in full display.
Oh God. What am I doing bringing him here? He’s used to penthouse suites with views of the city, not a shabby little flat with a view of a courtyard.
“I know it’s not the penthouse, but its home,” I say self-consciously.
Alex turns towards me, immediately sensing my discomfort. “It’s lovely, Katherine. I know it’s not the penthouse – its better.” He draws me to him, embracing me in his arms. He pulls back, looking deep into my eyes, and says, “It’s better because it’s your home.”
I nod, realizing I have no reason to feel ashamed. “Thank you.”
“Okay, let’s go,” Alex says enthusiastically, bending down to pick up my bag.
We leave my flat, and I expect to see Antonio waiting patiently in a Range Rover or a Mercedes. Nope. Parked outside is a black convertible vintage Porsche. My jaw drops. Two words come to mind – vintage and amazing.
“You like it?” Alex asks, smiling, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
“Do I like it? Are you kidding me?! I love it!” I squeal with delight. He opens the door for me, and I slide into the Porsche, grinning from ear to ear.
“It’s a 356B Cabriolet,” Alex explains, as he expertly maneuvers the Porsche onto the A40, heading northwest. The car glides smoothly along, obviously in impeccable condition.
“This car is really something,” I remark, inspecting every inch of the gleaming, spotless interior. “My father and brothers would go crazy for this car.”
“Oh really? They have an interest in vintage cars?” Alex asks curiously.
“They have an interest in cars, period. Any and all cars. My dad used to repair cars on the side.
Kind of a hobby, really.”
“Perhaps one day I’ll have the opportunity to meet your family,” Alex replies. He glances at me, smiling, wearing his aviator shades, the wind blowing in his hair.
“Perhaps,” I respond lightly, a small smile playing on my lips. I slide my hand into his, squeezing gently.
We continue to travel along the A40, driving farther away from London. The scenery gradually transitions from city life to countryside – quaint villages, green pastures, and wooden fences along the motorway. I lean back in my seat, inhale the sweet scent of fresh, clean air. It reminds me of home.
I think about asking Alex where exactly we’re going, but decide against it. I’m enjoying the drive, his company, and this moment. Wherever he’s taking me, I’ll gladly follow.