The trip to the fabric store proved fruitful. They finally had some of the fabric I’d had on backorder for months. It was like damn Christmas. I almost leaped across the cutting counter and kissed the woman when she told me my fabric was in the back and that she’d bring it out so I could tell her how many yards I wanted cut.
Inari also found what she wanted and then some.
We were both loaded down and had to take a cab back to the studio. Everyone was quiet when we returned and I soon figured out why. There was a guy staring at the wall where I hung my sketches, his hands clasped behind his back, his head turned to the side.
“Who let him in?” I asked, dumping my load near the door. It was so heavy, and my arms were killing me. I should probably work out more or something. You never think about fabric being so heavy when it’s in the store.
No one would make eye contact with me, and Ryder finally turned around and smiled at me.
“Don’t blame anyone. I let myself in,” he said. I tried not to react to him, but it was a losing battle. I couldn’t fight my attraction to him any more than I could make the earth rotate backwards.
“Oh, do you have a key here now, too?” I asked. What the hell was he doing here? How did he even know where this place was?
“No. I just have my ways.” He looked over his shoulder at Vivien and winked. She giggled and dropped the glass of water she’d been holding. That figured. Ryder could pretty much get anything he wanted, anytime he wanted. Curse his sex appeal.
“Well, why don’t we go into my office?” I motioned with my hand and everyone watched as Ryder followed me through the door. He was quite the spectacle, and clearly enjoying every moment. Before I closed the door I turned around and glared at everyone who had been staring at Ryder’s ass. “Get back to work,” I snarled.
I slammed the door and turned to face him. “So, to what do I owe this honor?” He wasn’t paying attention to me. He was staring at the picture of me and Rory I had framed on my desk. It was from college and during a really bad hair phase for me.
I flipped the picture over to get his attention.
He snapped his eyes up to my face and smiled again. “This is a nice place you have here. And minions. You have minions.” He strolled around the small room, looking at everything. Ryder really had a problem with boundaries and personal space. And locks and doors.
“Um, yeah. But I’m pretty sure they’d be insulted if you called them that, so let’s just keep that between us.” He turned around.
“Are you done stalling in telling me why you’re here?”
He shrugged. “I wanted to see you. Got out of work and I was thinking about you, so I just decided to come by. See where you worked.”
It sounded so logical when he put it that way. “How did you know where to go?”
“Um, I listen when you talk? You told me where it was, remember?” Not really. I couldn’t even remember that conversation, but clearly he had.
He smirked. “Guess I have a better memory.” I had a great memory. But sometimes I got distracted from what he was saying because I was too busy staring at his lips or his eyes or his chest, or his everything. Hard to concentrate on the message when the package delivering it was so nice to look at.
“Yeah, well,” I said. Lame.
“Anyway, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to get something to eat. I know it’s early, but maybe we could have tea or something. Be fucking British for a day.” I wasn’t a huge fan of tea, but when it involved Ryder, I was game.
“Um, yeah. I guess. I have a ton of work to do, and I can’t be gone too long, but sure.” I tried not to sound too eager.
He treated me to a slow smile that did things to me.
“Fucking fantastic,” he said.
Six
It was obvious, when I opened the door to my office so Ryder and I could leave, that everyone had been eavesdropping. The room was silent and no one wanted to make eye contact. Guess I couldn’t blame them. If an amazingly attractive man had showed up for someone else, I’d be intrigued. Especially since Ryder had that . . . thing. That edge of danger that you were wary of but fascinated by at the same time. It wasn’t just the scars and the tattoos and the way he walked, it was just . . . him.
I didn’t make an announcement, but I gave Inari a look before Ryder and I headed out the door. She was going to want full disclosure later.
“So, how was work?” I asked as we rode the elevator down to the first floor. My studio occupied the fifteenth floor of what used to be an old warehouse building. The rent was crazy expensive, even though the building was rundown, but I loved the wide open space and floor to ceiling windows. It wasn’t in the best neighborhood and you couldn’t find a decent cup of coffee for at least three blocks. Still, it was mine and I’d started my career here. I would always have mad love for this building.
“People come in, they eat, I take their dirty plates, I wash them. It’s a whole fucking cycle. But it makes me a productive member of society, whatever that means.”
I snorted. I’d thought the same thing myself. “I have no idea. Makes you sound like a bit of machinery instead of a person. A cog in the capitalist machine.” We reached the first floor and headed out the door.
“I don’t want to be a fucking cog, thank you very much,” he said.