GirlWhoBrokeMicksDick: She could use a friend…
Me: Do you want to go with me tomorrow night to a party? It’s a work thing. Kind of fancy.
GirlWhoBrokeMicksDick: Just as friends?
Me: BFFs
GirlWhoBrokeMicksDick: Okay.
Me: I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 7. Wear something fancy.
GirlWhoBrokeMicksDick: You could have slept with her if you wanted to.
Me: There’s only on
e woman I want to sleep with right now.
GirlWhoBrokeMicksDick: I thought we were going to be BFFs.
Me: I’ll take what I can get.
GirlWhoBrokeMicksDick: See you tomorrow at 7
Me: See you then.
I jam my phone back into my pocket and suddenly realize…shit did indeed get real.
Mick
My heart is actually in my throat when I approach her doorman. I introduce myself and tell him I’m here to see Wren, and he looks down at his notepad. “Miss Vasquez said to call her when you arrive.” He reaches for his phone.
“I’d rather pick her up at her door, if you don’t mind.”
The old man arches a brow at me. “I don’t mind, but I’m not sure if she would.” He rings her phone and he says, “Miss Vasquez, you have a rather sharply dressed gentleman here to see you.”
She says something that makes him chuckle. His eyes meet mine. “I’d feel bad sending the gentleman away. He looks like he took some time on his appearance. He shaved. He’s wearing nice socks. He’s carrying flowers.” He gives me a thumbs-up and a wink on that one. He sniffs the air and grimaces. “He smells like cologne.”
He pushes the phone away from his mouth and says, “She wants to know if you’re wearing boxers or briefs.”
“Neither,” I say.
He sputters into the phone. “The gentleman says that’s a secret.”
“Liar,” I mutter, but I’m laughing all the while.
Suddenly, the elevator doors open and there she is. And she takes my breath away. She’s wearing a red dress with a black sash, classy and elegant and showing just enough leg that I want to pull it off her with my teeth. The doorman slaps me on the back. “It’s just a woman,” he mutters. “Breathe.”
“She’s beautiful,” I tell him on an exhalation.
“On the inside and the outside,” he replies.
“Henry, are you scaring my date away?” she asks. She puts her hands on her hips and glares at him playfully.
Henry scratches his balding pate. “Well, only if I get to take his place.” He waggles his eyebrows at her. “It’s been a long time since my Nan died. Maybe I need to get back into the dating game.”
“Do you want to have lunch with me tomorrow?” she asks him.
“My treat,” he says, and he lifts her hand, places a kiss on the back of it, and then offers it to me.