“What is your friend’s name?”
Calli looked over the cubicle wall, and said, “Oh, that’s Jordan. You ready?”
Dom held out a hand for her to lead the way.
An uncertain look crossed her face, but she went.
He followed.
Chapter 11
Calli
The mention of coffee made Calli’s mouth water, and this was at least a momentary distraction from the drama she had to manage with Bennett. Further, Dom had apologized easily for having asked his assistant to call her. Maybe she was being too hard on the man. She couldn’t make everyone out to be like her ex. After all, she’d never heard the words I’m sorry slip through Bennett’s lips. Maybe this was a small chance to separate herself from the compliant woman she’d been in her marriage and exercise a little risk. Coffee, at least, seemed platonic. And . . . she’d see this man at the gym three times a week for the next six. It’d be good to be cordial at least. So, she’d gone out on a limb and accepted the invitation.
Calli stepped up to the counter and greeted the barista at Bienvenue, the bistro around the corner from Moffit and Hall, and ordered a latte with an extra shot of espresso. Dom joined her and ordered the dark brew with two sugars. Dark brew, indeed, Calli thought as his clean scent overwhelmed her senses. He glanced down and they exchanged shy smiles, and Calli’s gut twisted.
With their coffees in hand, Dom led the way to the armchairs in the back corner, and Calli observed how the crease in his gray dress pants moved and caressed him as he walked. Underneath, she envisioned his slightly bowed athlete’s calves she’d seen in the morning’s fitness class and hid a small smirk. He’d infuriated her with the assistant-arranged date thing, but now, watching him walk, she had to admit that he was one amazing package—at least to view. Maybe, just maybe, her friends were right, and he could be her rebound guy. Technically, it’d only been a week since the ink had dried, but she’d been separated for over a year, and her marriage had been in the toilet long before that. Calli couldn’t recall the last time she’d actually been intimate with anyone other than her ex.
Calli placed her drink on the table and removed her coat, handing it to Dom who hung it beside his on the nearby coatrack. She sat and sipped her latte.
As Dom returned and took the empty chair, he said, “This atmosphere is much better.”
“So,” Calli started, looking around at the sparsely populated tables in the bistro. Most people grabbed a to-go from the Starbucks on the corner or the Caribou another block up. Coffee was the fuel for the financial professionals who worked in Cloud 9, and as a result, each block had one or sometimes two coffee shops. Bienvenue was the more upscale, sit-down version. In fact, the owner refused to provide to-go cups and instead created meeting spaces to invite people to use his space to conduct business.
“Yes, so,” answered Dom, then offered a crooked yet charming smile.
Calli shifted and chewed the inside of her lip. The pause was uncomfortable at best.
At last, he broke the silence. “Tell me about yourself.”
She laughed, again discomfited. “An interview?” She looked questioningly into his piercing eyes. “Is that what we’re doing?”
“No. I just . . . ” Dom rested the cup in the palm of one hand, pressing his lips together in a tight line. “I didn’t really have much of an agenda. I just wanted to see if we had anything in common.”
“Well, I can’t say I’m overly experienced in the dating area,” said Calli, “but maybe we should start with some casual talk?”
“Yeah, good idea.” He looked toward the high ceilings, inlaid with copper-detailed cornices. “How did you end up in Trish’s class this morning?”
Calli twitched a bit. The question reminded her of the ache settling into her muscles. “That’s all Jordan,” she said. “She signed us both up yesterday on a whim.”
“But you’re going. That’s great!” said Dom.
“I’d planned to begin slow, but, well, I guess that didn’t happen.” Calli shrugged. “I’m going to hurt like crazy tomorrow, I think.”
“Trish loves that. I think she’s a bit sadistic in that way.” Dom stirred in the sugar cubes and sipped. “You made it through okay, though.”
“Barely. We’ll see how well I’m moving by the next one on Saturday.”
“What do you like to do for fun?” he asked.
A waitress came around with a stack of saucers and empty mugs and interrupted. Staring at Dom with doe eyes, she asked, “How is everything here? Can I get you anything?” She glanced at Calli briefly, then refocused her attention on Dom.
It said something that Dom didn’t flinch, his gaze never pulling away. Calli answered the girl, knowing full well that she was looking for Dom’s attention. “Thank you, but we’re good.” She walked away, defeated.
Calli answered his question from before the interruption. “I don’t have a”— she made air quotes—“quote, unquote, raging social life.”
“But there must be something you enjoy,” said Dom.
“I like wine, in case you didn’t notice the other night.”
“Ah, yes. The Petite Petit, if I recall.”
Calli’s eyes widened; that had been over a week prior. “Interesting that you remember that from all the tables you had to have visited that night.”
Dom lifted one shoulder. “What can I say? It’s one of my favorites too. Have you ever been to the Michael David vineyard in Lodi?”
“Can’t say that I have.” She hid her face in the latte, fighting away the sour memories. Back when she’d thought there might be hope for her and Bennett, she’d booked a trip to Lodi. Bennett’s personal assistant had called to cancel the trip because Bennett had had a business trip to attend. Calli later learned that he’d used his ticket and rebooked hers under the name of his latest mistress, now fiancée she supposed. Swallowing, she changed the subject. “I like movies.” She smiled. “And the theater. And concerts. What about you?”
“I have a thing for small breweries. I travel at least once a month for work, and I’m away for a week most times, so it gives me the opportunity to visit many of them across the country.”
Calli swallowed hard. She didn’t want to be involved with someone who traveled so often. She should have known—how else would he shoot his series? “That’s right,” she said. “You travel for The Dinner Shark, right?”
“Yes. My first love is Moretti’s, but I invest in others to share the joy of owning a restaurant and seeing it successful.”
She nodded and held the mug in her hands, allowing the warmth to seep into her palms. Breathing in through her nose, Calli counted mentally, then exhaled—her routine an attempt to eschew a bout of constricting anxiety. Despite her effort, the band around her chest was tightening, and she needed to get out. Travel. Investing. Déjà vu. She shook her head, breathing again and trying to maintain a semblance of socially acceptable behavior. “Listen, Dom.” She looked up, into his light eyes—such a contrast with his dark hair and hint of a five o’clock shadow. Her chest loosened. The breathing seemed to be working.