Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 100604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Sia and Jake laughed and talked with each other, and I had a feeling there would be no space for me to interject about meeting Cole. And that felt fine. I wasn’t ready to say anything about it, not yet.
A waiter brought water for Jake and refills for the rest of us. Sia got her coffee, hallelujah! The food came soon after we ordered. It was a light lunch, but the salad filled me up. Sia and Jake ordered sandwiches and devoured them, probably starving from their cardiovascular activities the previous night. Not long after we finished, Jake slid out of the booth to head back to work. Sia went with him to say goodbye. They walked out holding hands.
Young love. I remembered those days… Then Cole flashed in my head—the image of him standing there, watching me, waiting as I walked toward him. My mouth watered, and my stomach flipped over on itself.
Cole, whatever his last name was, affected me and in a big and intense way. And thinking of his invitation, I knew I couldn’t do that. My body was tired after just one brief meeting with him. If I ran with him, next to him the entire time—my hand pressed into my stomach, trying to forcibly calm the nerves.
A server distracted me, reaching for my glass to refill it.
“Could I get the bill?”
“It’s on the house.” He set my water back down.
“What?”
But he turned and moved on to the next table.
Sia slid back into her seat at that moment. Folding her hands over each other, she leaned in close. “I’m so sorry, again. I know I apologized before, but this really was supposed to be our lunch, and you had no idea he was coming. And then you had to sit and endure our whole gushy-gushy stuff just now.” Her hands pressed against her chest. “I’m not that selfish friend. I don’t want to be. I owe you HUGE. What can I do to make it up to you?” She sat up suddenly. “Friday night! I have Friday night off for once. No event. No fundraiser. No showcase. Nothing. We should do a slumber party. You. Me. Lots of wine.” She winced, then waved that away. “I’ll be back on the wine bandwagon by then. Ooh. Can we do that? Are you up for it?”
“No Jake showing up in the middle of our slumber party?”
“Only if we start drinking tequila. You know how I get frisky when I drink that stuff.”
“No tequila.”
“Just wine.” Sia beamed at me.
I nodded. “Just wine.”
“And pajamas. Nice, big, comfortable pajamas. Nothing tight or constricting.”
I shook my head. “Definitely not.”
“Then it’s a best friend, Friday night, slumber party date.” She reached for her purse and raised her hand in the air. “And lunch is on me.”
“I tried.”
“What?”
I motioned. “Lower your hand. It won’t matter.”
“You asked for the bill?” She scanned the table. “Where is it? You didn’t pay it already, did you?”
“I asked for it, but the server said it’s on the house.”
“Are you serious?” She sat back, hitting the back of her seat with a soft bounce. “This place isn’t cheap, and I’ve never had my bill…” A light bulb went on. Her eyes lit up, and she sat upright. “That hostess from the other night! She must’ve recognized our reservation and said something ahead of time. I bet it was her. Man, if it was, I really need to pay her back. I’ll reach out to a designer who’s looking for models, give her name. That was really nice of her.” She was in awe. “I’ve never had a hostess be that nice before. Usually they try to network by offering to work for free at an event or something. Yeah, I’ll make sure to get her a job because of this.”
I reached for my own purse. “Mystery solved.”
Once we stepped out onto the street, Sia linked her elbow with mine and pulled me close to her side. We walked that way, like we had the other night, back to my building. She only had another block to go for her job, and we paused outside the front entrance. “Next lunch is just the two of us. I promise. Wait. Was there something you wanted to talk about today?”
An image of Cole appeared in my mind—my seared memory of him in the elevator, watching me as the doors closed. The blood on the floor from his comrade. Him running. Him waiting for me as I finished my last lap. “I’m Cole.”
My fingers closed over her hand, and I cleared my throat. “Nope. Nothing.”
“You sure?”
“I wanted to hear about you and Jake, but I got one better. I saw it first hand, like a private Broadway show.”
She groaned. “Again. I am so sorry.”
“I know. I’m just torturing you now.”
“Okay.” She twisted around, peering up at my floor. “So, if I don’t talk to you all week, plan for Friday. It’s a definite for me.”