“Shit,” Stephen says dejectedly.
“I’m sorry. What did I say?”
“You’re making me feel guilty for wanting to charge his credit card for our room service.”
“Why? He’s a no-good, awful, terrible person. He doesn’t deserve to have good credit. I say we charge the room and everything to him.” I stand, holding onto the bed before making the full commitment. “I know. Tomorrow, we will shop!”
“I love shopping. That’s tomorrow’s plan.”
“No, wait,” I say, remembering Trevor for the one hundredth time in the last two hours. “I might have a date.”
“A date? With sexy Trevor?”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be happy if you’re not.”
“I know what will make me happy.”
“What?”
Stephen reaches for the phone on the nightstand. “Wine and nachos.” He looks my direction and bats his eyelashes. “So you’re good with another bottle of wine and a plate of nachos?”
“What will you say when he finds out?”
“I don’t think he cares what I eat at nearly midnight. Hell, he doesn’t care about anyone but himself and his pathetic assistant...”
I reach over, flop face-first onto the bed, and cover Stephen’s hand, thinking about what Trevor told me. “Maybe he just wasn’t sure? Maybe he didn’t know.”
“You want me to tell him what I’m eating?”
I shrug. “Not what you’re eating. But maybe talking to him is a good thing.” Yes, I’m no longer talking about Max. Despite my best friend’s heartache, I can’t seem to get my mind off of Trevor. Then again, maybe there’s some truth in this for both of us. “I think if there’s any chance that in two weeks something can happen, communication is key.”
“Why two weeks?”
“Because, no matter what, we’re going back to London in two weeks. Either to pack or live.”
“That could mean there’s more than two weeks, depending on what happens.”
I sigh. “I don’t want the job to have anything to do with feelings.”
“How can it not?”
I scoot around until I’m lying on the pillow. “I’m not a very good friend.”
“You’re a great friend.”
“I can’t think about Max when all that I’m thinking about is Trevor.”
“I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t know that. Now for the last time, wine and nachos?”
“Yes, but put it on our company charge. After all, we’re recovering from the fashion show.”
Chapter Thirteen
Trevor
I can’t remember being more confused than I was last night. I didn’t know what happened and obviously, my sister-in-law was no more informed than I.
One minute we’re all standing around talking and laughing.
And while I was content to be part of the small group, I will admit that I was having trouble keeping my hands to myself. Shana was just too close and too beautiful. All the lies I’d told myself over the last year about how I could forget her flew out the window in that hallway. After that, I couldn’t stop myself from constantly touching her shoulder, hair, or neck.
I did try to make it not too obvious, as I was trying to hide it from Kimbra.
I won’t lie. That danger of discovery made it all the more exciting.
One of the great things about my sister-in-law is her conversational skills. I’m not sure how she and my brother will ever carry on the family name. I’m not sure she stops talking long enough for much more than wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am. Then again, I don’t spend a lot of time considering my brother’s sex life, only that his wife is beyond endowed with the gift of gab.
And then Max walked up to tell me it was my turn to play pool, and all hell broke loose.
Shana went full-out mother bear. I was lost.
It was kind of sexy seeing her all shouty and poking her finger at Max. The guy’s been my friend for a few years and we’ve always gotten along, but I can see how sometimes he may come off as a bit of a pretentious ass. Then again, that wasn’t what Shana was all up in his business about.
It was when Stephen walked up that the figurative pieces of the puzzle seemed to slide into place. I don’t know what history there is between Stephen and Max—Max refused to talk about it later—but whatever it is, it does not appear to be good.
As soon as they left, I sent Shana a text, asking her what happened. I know Kimbra sent her one too. When she didn’t respond, I sent another one that ignored the giant two-ton elephant in the room and simply asked if I could still call her in the morning.
She responded to the second one, saying yes and something about credit and cars. I took a screen shot of her reply and maybe one day I’ll ask what it said. There were a few words that were merely jumbled letters and even one with symbols. As far as I know, they don’t have any intelligible meaning. Maybe one day I’ll find out. In the meantime, I sent back a smiling emoji and held out hope that in the morning she’d answer my call.
She did.
That’s why I’m now here, at one of the girliest places I’ve ever seen.
Serendipity 3.
You see, I’ve replayed the scenes from the first time Shana and I were together over and over in my head. I’ve racked my brain to come up with something special, something to show her that I want to be part of her life. As much as I try to concentrate on those things, since last night, my thoughts slip back to the way she felt against my body while pushed against the wall and the pounding of her heart under that thin blouse. I can even imagine how her ass would have felt in the palm of my hands as I lifted her...
Yes, I’m more than a little aware that for our first official date, taking her to my apartment and doing what I wanted to do last night isn’t exactly the most romantic of ideas even if I have thought about it every which way and a few ways I’ve never tried but would be more than willing to give it a go. That is why I’m meeting her at Serendipity 3.
I have two reasons for this location.
First, the name means the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way—I looked it up. The way I remember the night that led her to my bed, it was completely a series of events of chance. I don’t think it could be recreated if we tried. The other reason is that this restaurant is world-famous for its amazing hot chocolate. And even though the springtime weather is warm and sunny, I recalled something she told me.
The morning she woke in my bed, she mentioned she liked hot chocolate.
Now, as I wait, I hope she’ll think this was a fun idea and not the desperate move of a desperate man.
I take a glance at my phone. As usual, I’m early. We didn’t agree to meet for another fifteen minutes.
It’s then that my phone rings. It’s my brother.
I look around the restaurant and decide to speak quietly.
“Hey,” I say.
“What the hell happened last night?”
“Great to talk to you too.”
Duncan laughs in the easygoing way that should not be associated with someone like him. He’s this big-time businessman who makes a fortune in shipping pharmaceuticals. It was a pretty ingenious plan that he and his friend devised. The idea was that as the population ages, medications will always be necessary. The production of medications, however, is too much work, not to mention time consuming and expensive. Instead, Duncan and his friend, Mike, decided the money was in logistics. Both the manufacturers and the distributors would pay big money for efficient shipping.