Saturday (Timeless Series #6) (7 page)

BOOK: Saturday (Timeless Series #6)
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She looked down at her fries and picked at them. She didn’t take another bite, her mind somewhere else.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bum you out.”

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “What do you do when you lose a case?”

“I don’t know. That’s never happened.”

She looked up again. “You’ve never lost a case?”

“No.” I didn’t give up. I pushed on until I got what I wanted. “But I don’t take as many cases as the rest of my employees.”

“That’s impressive…”

“I have a good relationship with a lot of the judges, and I have a good reputation. I think that helps a lot.”

She returned to eating her fries, moving at a snail’s pace.

When I asked her to lunch I wanted to have good conversation, not drop my work drama on her. We were already off to a bad start. “How’s work been for you?” I sipped my soda as I watched her.

“Good.” She opened a ketchup packet and squirted it on top of her fries. “Work has been good for a while now. A few years ago I couldn’t get anyone to give me a chance because my company is small and I’m the only employee.”

“Good for you.”

“I’ve had a lot of high profile clients, and I know that helped.”

“Like who?” My curiosity got the best of me.

“Well, Justin Timberlake wanted me to design his house in Colorado. That was pretty cool. Who else…?” She looked away as she tried to think. “Oh, Chris Martin had me design his beach house in Malibu. Madonna has a place in Connecticut, and I designed that for her.”

Wow, she wasn’t kidding.
“That’s incredible.”

“They really helped my business a lot. Most of referrals are from word of mouth. I don’t spend money on ads or anything like that.”

“That’s so cool.”

“Thanks.” Her cheeks tinted slightly. “It’s been an incredible experience.”

The fact she was an independent business owner made me more attracted to her. Running a business was difficult, and no one else understood that unless they did it themselves. The fact she was a one-woman show was all the more impressive. “Your parents must be proud of you.”

She looked down again. “Yeah…”

I hit another touchy subject. Now I had to steer away from it. “What do you do for fun?” It was the first question that came to mind.

“I like to jog,” she said. “Usually at sunset in the park.”

“That’s cool.”

“It helps me relax. By the time I get home I’m exhausted and ready for bed.”

“Perfect. Sometimes I can’t sleep at night.” My mind wandered to work, family, and relationships. By the time I stopped thinking about everything it was three in the morning.

“A glass of wine always helps.”

I wasn’t a big fan of wine. Otherwise, that would be an easy solution. “I’ll give it a try.” I’d finished my food so now I had nothing else to do but look at her. It was my favorite hobby so I didn’t mind in the least, but I knew it put her on edge. I held my soda and fidgeted with it just so I had something to do. “Where did you go to school?”

“Here in New York. What about you?”

“The same. I grew up in the Hamptons but I’ve been here for my entire adult life.”

“Did your father accumulate all of his wealth? Or did you come from a wealthy family?”

“My grandfather was the president of Wells Fargo. And his father before him was the president as well. So yes, I did come from a wealthy background. But my dad made his own way in life. I always looked up to him. That’s why I became a lawyer.”

“That’s sweet.”

“I remember my first case. I was nervous as hell but he guided me through it. I learned a lot from him. He was the greatest lawyer I’ve ever known.” He was passionate about his work and never accepted anything less than the best. When he passed away it was devastating to my mother, but it was also devastating to me. He wasn’t just my dad, but my best friend.

“I try to appreciate the time I had with someone rather than focus on their absence. Sometimes it helps…sometimes it doesn’t.”

I wondered whom she lost. But I didn’t ask because she would have given up that information voluntarily if she wanted me to know. “It’s been so long that I’ve had time to move on and accept it. But there are days when I struggle, mainly on the anniversary of his death or Christmas.”

“The holidays are hard…”

“Definitely.” My soda was empty but I kept fidgeting with it. I wanted to stare at her without blinking but she wasn’t giving me the opportunity. I would do anything to have that, to be able to look at her all I wanted.

“So, let me show you what I have so far.” She opened the folder and took out her sketches. “Let me know what you think.”

Free Falling

Rose

Kyle’s new home was so much fun to work on. Remodeling existing buildings was much more difficult because I had to accommodate the structure as well as the foundation. Not every change was possible. But designing something from the ground up was a different story.

I had full reign.

Spending time with Kyle gave me a better understanding of his personality. He was laid back and mellow, and he was personable. He could walk up to a complete stranger and strike up a conversation about anything. He was warm and inviting, the kind of person you immediately viewed as a friend.

I really liked him.

When he asked me out I forced myself to say no. He seemed like a catch, the kind of guy women only saw in their dreams, but I knew I couldn’t have him. Anytime I started walking down that road my past would catch up with me. Then the breakdowns would occur, one by one.

We could only be friends.

When he backed off and realized I wouldn’t change my mind everything felt more comfortable. I didn’t have to keep my guard up every second of our interaction, and we finally started to feel like friends.

That was all I could handle
.

When I completed the rough draft of his design I texted him.
I finished it. Let me know when you’re ready to look at it.

I’m ready now.

You want to stop by the office?

The three dots appeared before he answered.
How about we get a drink instead?
It seemed like he never wanted to be in my office. Maybe it was too small for him. Or he just didn’t like the atmosphere.

Sure. We can do that.

McCormick’s?

I’d been there a few times.
Sure.

I’ll meet you in 15 minutes.

***

He was already there when I walked inside, sitting in a booth with a beer in front of him. He wore a charcoal gray suit with a cream colored shirt underneath. His dark brown hair was slightly curly at the ends, and it was messy like he’d been running his fingers through it all day. His jaw was covered with a layer of hair from not shaving for the past few days.

I noticed every detail.

His eyes stood out no matter what color he wore. He was painfully beautiful, almost unreal. He had thin lips that looked kissable. His knuckles were defined and hard, like he had strenuous hobbies outside the courtroom.

When I first saw him in that restaurant I was taken aback by my attraction to him. It’d been so long since I’d felt arousal for any man. Actually, it’d been years. But he brought my body to life just by his appearance alone.

I didn’t think that was possible.

He spotted me when I walked inside, and his eyes were glued to me instantly. He stared at me a lot, and I was growing used to it. Whenever he looked at me he didn’t stare at my chest, hips, or stomach. They were always focused on my eyes, giving me nowhere to hide.

Like always, my throat felt dry.

My hands were warm.

And my breathing became labored.

I hoped he didn’t notice.

I approached his booth and slid into the seat across from him, the folder tucked under my arm. Now was the time for me to say hi, but being face-to-face with him was unnerving. I cleared my throat because my tongue was awkwardly placed in my mouth. There was no way I could possibly say anything.

His forearms rested on the table, and his cuff links glittered in the light. They were the image of the England flag. He stared at me openly, not blinking. The bubbles in his glass still floated to the top and the foam was heavy. It was clear he hadn’t taken a single drink.

And the staring continued.

I wanted to say hi, but now I couldn’t remember if I already had. My nerves were getting to me and my throat went dry all over again. Now I desperately needed water—preferably wine.

Kyle moved one hand to his jaw, his fingers lightly resting on his lips. The intense look he gave me was unnerving, but not necessarily in a bad way. His heated looks were becoming more common, and now he didn’t bother looking away anymore. He stared endlessly, seeing something in my eyes.

My entire body felt hot. The sweat formed under my arms and I crossed my legs just so I had something to do. The folder was placed on the table, and I could easily open just so I had something to look at.

But I didn’t.

Minutes passed and neither one of us spoke.

Kyle didn’t seem to notice everyone else in the bar. People talked quietly from their tables, while others yelled at the game on the TV. But he didn’t seem to care about anything in that room besides me.

The waitress came to our table and broke the tension. “Can I get you something?”

Like a knife, she sliced right through the moment. The tension had built to a crescendo and it couldn’t escalate any higher. If it did, I wasn’t sure what would happen. Thankfully, she was there. “I’ll take a glass of white wine. And some water.”
With lots of ice, please.

“Coming right up.” She walked away, returning us to our strange isolation.

Kyle lowered his hand to the table, revealing his bottom lip and jaw. “Thanks for meeting me.”

“Sure.” My voice came out a little shaky even though I tried to hide it. He was good at seeming calm. I was terrible at it. “I worked on your suggestions and came up with a new idea.”

“Great.” He still didn’t touch his beer. “How are you?”

I was expecting him to ask about the drawings, and I couldn’t hide my surprise when he didn’t. “Good. I had a bad fall in the park, but other than that I’m okay.” I twisted my wrist and showed the scrape along my arm.

His eyes moved to the injury, and he immediately reached out and grabbed my wrist, twisting my arm so he could get a good look at it. His fingers trailed along the area in a soothing way, making the inflammation die down for a moment. “I’m sorry to hear that. You should put a bandage on it.”

Feeling his hands on me wasn’t intrusive like I thought it might be. Actually, it felt nice. “I had one earlier but it must have fell off.” I cringed at the idea of a dirty bandage sitting somewhere in my office.

“I’ll get you one.” He slid out of the booth immediately and walked to the bar.

I didn’t even have a chance to protest.

After he retrieved the bandage along with my water and wine, he sat down and grabbed my arm again. “What happened?” Instead of holding my wrist like he had before, he interlocked his fingers with mine and pivoted my arm so he could get a look at the scab. With a single hand he placed the bandage over the wound.

I watched his face the entire time, watching the way he concentrated on his movements. “An ice cream cart was nearby, and the guy started ringing the bell. I stopped paying attention to where I was going and smacked right into another runner. Thankfully, he wasn’t hurt.”

“I’m glad you weren’t hurt worse.”

“The ice cream guy gave me a free popsicle because he felt bad for me…”

“Or because he thought you were cute.” He applied pressure to the bandage so it would stick. Then he finally released my arm and pulled his hand away.

But his other hand was still locked to mine. His fingers rested on top of my knuckles, and they were warm and inviting. Some of my skin was dry and calloused, just like most men.

I stared at the affection and felt my heart sink into my stomach. I liked his touch—but I also hated it. My natural response was to pull away but I didn’t.

“What kind of popsicle was it?”

My eyes darted back to his face. “Pineapple.”

“Good flavor. Personally, I like coconut.”

“It sounds like we both like tropical flavors.”

“Have you ever been to Hawaii?”

“I can’t say that I have.”

“You can’t get pineapple like that anywhere else in the world.” His fingers gently rubbed against mine, massaging me. He acted like the touch was completely natural, like we’ve done it before.

When I felt the heat flush my body and travel to places it hadn’t been in so long, I pulled way. Both of my hands fell into my lap, the one place he couldn’t reach them.

Kyle didn’t move his hand, and he didn’t seem offended that the affection was over. In fact, it didn’t seem like anything happened at all. The same intense look was still on his face—and it was directed at me. “Did you do anything this weekend?”

“Just worked on your project. You?” I could feel the heat in my face, and I hoped my cheeks weren’t red.

“I played basketball with a few friends. Other than that, I stayed in.”

“That sounds nice…” I didn’t know what else to say.

“I haven’t been going out lately.”

It was a strange thing to say.

“And I haven’t been dating either.”

Again, I was speechless.

He glanced at my wine. “How is it?”

I grabbed the stem with shaky fingers and took a drink. “Good.” I couldn’t truly savor the taste because I was so nervous.

He finally took a drink of his beer. “Mine is a little warm.”

Probably because it’d been sitting there for so long
. I grabbed the folder and opened it.

His hand moved on top of it, keeping it closed. “What’s your favorite restaurant in the city?”

My fingers still gripped the corner. “I don’t know…I love everything.”

“You don’t have a particular preference?”

“I guess I like that Italian place we went to a few weeks ago.”

“I liked it too.”

“What’s your favorite place?”

“Honestly, Mega Shake.”

“But that’s not a restaurant.” That was a glorified diner.

He shrugged. “You like what you like, right? I’m not big on fancy restaurants. It takes forever to get your food, and they never give you enough of it. I find myself more hungry when I leave than when I got there.”

“Because you’re a big guy.”

“Big guy?” he asked. “I hope you mean that in a complimentary way.” With his eyes still fixed on mine, he moved the folder to the opposite end of the table where I couldn’t reach it.

“I do.” I’d never seen him in anything but a long-sleeved shirt, but the definition of his muscles was still obvious. He was tall, at least six two, and he had the most beautiful eyes in the world.

“That’s what I was hoping for.” He grabbed his beer and took a long drink before he set it down.

Now I knew this meeting wasn’t friendly. It’d quickly developed into something more. When he asked me out the first time I was terrified. But now that I was there, it didn’t seem so bad. He didn’t make any moves to touch anything more than my hand and we were in a public place. I didn’t feel threatened.

And a part of me liked it.

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

When he made me feel like this, it was hard to say no. “Sure.”

“When was the last time you were in a relationship?”

It was so long ago I couldn’t even remember. “Maybe four years ago.”

“Wow. That’s a long time.”

It seemed like a lifetime ago.

“Did something happen to him?”

“No.” It was an odd question to ask. “We went our separate ways. To this day, we’re still friendly.”

He nodded, but his eyes narrowed in confusion.

“What about you? I know you said you were almost engaged but was there someone before that woman?”

“No.” His eyes lacked any emotion. “There was no one special in my life before Francesca. I’d been looking for a long time before I found her. Unfortunately, she was destined for someone else.”

“Destined?”

“Even when they were broken up she said he was her soul mate.”

That was intense
. “Do you believe in that sort of thing?”

He considered my question for several minutes before he answered. “Never really thought about it. What about you?”

“No.” It sounded like something people made up to be romantic.

“Have you ever been in love?”

“Me?” I asked in surprise.

“Yes. You.” His eyes were glued to my face so there was no one else he could be addressing.

“No.” I didn’t have much faith in humanity to begin with. I couldn’t picture myself ever loving someone. It was simply impossible.

“Haven’t found the right guy?”

“I guess.” And I wasn’t looking for him. Our conversation remained serious the entire time. I’d never been so intimidated and comfortable at the same time.

He drank his beer again then wiped the foam from his lips.

I thought about kissing those lips, tasting the beer on my tongue.

And then I freaked out.

Why did that thought come into my mind? Where did that feeling come from? Why was I pressing my thighs tightly together? “Well, I should get going…work never sleeps.”

He grabbed the folder and pulled it to the middle of the table. “You need to go over this with me.”

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