“I’m sure he or she is out there somewhere.” I tried to be nice. I could see she had let me in, and even though a joke was bubbling inside of me, I didn’t want to be cruel. I was too busy trying to ignore how happy her comment had made me.
“Thanks. I hope he is.” She grinned. “He’s most probably wondering where I am right now.”
“Highly unlikely.” I rolled my eyes. “He’s most probably in bed fucking the chick he picked up last night. And wondering if he can get her to make him breakfast afterwards.”
“You’re disgusting.” Her expression changed and she was no longer in her lovey-dovey trance. “You’re such a pig.”
“Hey, he’s your soulmate.” I shrugged. “I’m here about to buy you breakfast. Your anonymous lover is out there somewhere getting sucked off.”
“Why are you so crude?” She glared at me, and it took everything in me to not bend down and kiss her. I wanted to see the daggers in her eyes turn back to mush. I wanted to feel her pressed up against me. I wanted to see if she tasted as good as she smelled.
“Because I’m a man, sweetheart. I don’t want to burst your bubble, but unless you’re looking for a she, then your expectations are going to be dashed.”
“What does that mean?”
“Men don’t daydream about their future wives or soulmates.” I laughed. “Shit, most men wouldn’t know ‘the one’ if she hit them in the face with a sign. Most men marry when life circumstances tell them it’s time.”
“Whatever.” She shook her head. “Maybe you don’t, but my future husband—”
“Is in your head, sweetheart.” I laughed. “And you might as well forget all the ideals you have on whatever list you’ve created because believe you me, whatever sucker has to put up with you is not going to be a saint.”
“Well, whatever woman you end up with is going to be a … she-devil, because only someone crazy would want to be with you.”
“First off,” I pointed out, “I’m never getting married. And secondly, I’ve dated a she-devil and she was hot, the best sex I’ve ever had. So sign me up. I don’t mind having a round two.”
“Whatever, Mr. McAllister.” Abby folded her arms. “I think we just need to talk about work now because I’m just about done with you.”
“But I’m only just getting started.” I stared at her lips for longer than was polite and grinned when I saw her swallowing hard. For as much as she hated me, I knew I was getting under her skin, in all the right ways.
Chapter 15
Abby
* * *
Regret fell over me as we took our seats in the restaurant. I wished that I hadn’t exposed my inner thoughts to Dylan. Now he knew a part of me that only my best friends knew about. I didn’t like feeling that he was judging me, thinking I was some delicate flower who was just waiting on my Prince Charming to come along and sweep me away.
“So, Abby, do you write plays or books, or short stories?” Dylan looked at me with a raised eyebrow. I was surprised that he’d asked me another personal question. As if he really cared about getting to know me. I couldn’t figure him out. He was an enigma. So blunt and rude and yet so inquisitive. Most people preferred to talk about themselves, and didn’t really ask questions of others.
“None of the above,” I said with a small smile, wondering why he was asking.
“So you don’t want to be a playwright or an author?” He looked surprised.
“No.”
It was true. I didn’t want to be a playwright or an author. I wanted to be a poet. A poet who traveled the world and touched people with my art and words. But I wasn’t going to tell him that.
“So why did you study English literature, then?”
“I thought we were here to discuss work, not to discuss my college dreams and goals. That was a long time ago.”
“But how old are you? You can’t be more than what? Twenty-eight? I’m twenty-eight.”
I was surprised he’d guessed so accurately, but then again, he could see the year I graduated college on my resume. “So you went to college ten years ago. I assume you went into college with a goal. Why did you care about all my dreams and goals so much?”
“I just want to know if you’re going to stay with me for a long time, or if you have greater aspirations.”
“I mean, I’m not trying to be rude Mr. McAllister, but does anyone aspire to be a secretary?”
“I’m sure some people do. Are you looking down upon those that do? I thought a feminist like you—”
“Hold off a minute,” I interrupted him. “Who said I was a feminist?”
“I just assumed you’re a feminist. You’re a 21st-century woman. Right?”
“I mean, yeah, I am a feminist, but that doesn’t mean that—”
“Doesn’t mean what?”
“Nothing.”
He had that wicked smile on his face again, the one that made me think naughty thoughts. He was so handsome with his piercing blue eyes and his dark blonde hair, but he was so hard to read. When he talked about himself in the small moments that he did, I felt like I was getting a glimpse into a man who was very different from the persona he showed the world.
He had a lot of pain inside. I could feel it. I could even see it, but of course I wasn’t going to say it. And that didn’t excuse his actions or his words. He was still a jerk.
“Earth to Ms. Waldron,” he said, interrupting my thoughts.
“What?” I blinked. Had I missed something important?
“Nothing,” he said. “The waitress just asked you what you’d like to eat.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” I looked up at her. “Um, what do you recommend?”
“What are you in the mood for?” she said chewing on her pen, not even looking at me.
She was staring at Dylan, batting her eyelashes. I’m sure he was used to it, gorgeous and wealthy as he was.
“Umm, I guess I’ll get the fried chicken then, with waffles,” I said loudly to remind her I was there.
“Okay.” The waitress still didn’t look at me.
“I guess I’ll have that as well,” Dylan said, “and I’ll also have a latte.”
“Okay.” The waitress beamed. “Anything else, sir?”
“I’ll have a latte as well, please.”
The waitress looked at me finally. She studied my face and I could tell from the look in her eyes that she was wondering what someone like me was doing here with him. I knew she was wondering how a girl like me got so lucky.
“Okay, a latte. Anything else?”
“Yeah, I’ll have the French toast.”
“Are you sure you want French toast as well?” She looked me up and down.
“Yes. I’m very sure.”
“Okay.” She shrugged. “Anything else for you, sir?” She focused on Dylan again.
“Nah, that’s okay. Thank you.”
“Okay. Well, that’ll be up as soon as possible.” She batted her eyelashes flirtatiously at him. “I’ll be back with your drinks in a couple of minutes.”