The Stopover (The Miles High Club 1)
Page 120
My eyes hold his. “Sure.”
I watch him walk back to his desk and fall into conversation with the person who sits next to him.
I’m watching you, asshole.
I look around the office with renewed determination. I’m watching all of you. Every single one.
It’s just now four, and I email Jameson.
Hi,
I booked you a massage with a physio. They will be at your place at seven. Hope this suits your plans.
FB
xoxoxo
A few moments later, a reply bounces back.
Dear FB,
Please define “they.”
J
xx
I roll my eyes. I knew this was coming.
Dear Mr. J,
They . . . aka . . . male physiotherapist professional, nonsexual-act-performing masseuse. Specializes in back treatment and hella expensive.
FB
xoxoxo
I wait for a few moments, and a reply bounces back.
FB,
Fine, can you let them in
to my apartment, please? I’ll have Alan pick you up at seven. I’ll meet you there, maybe fifteen minutes late.
J
xox
I smile broadly as hope blooms in my chest. I write back.
Are we seeing each other tonight?
He replies.
Yes. I’m away for the week next week, therefore, I’m taking next week’s meetings too. See you tonight.
Jay