Page 88 of King of Omen
Hope rose in me. ‘You think he’d mind?’
‘Nah, plus I think he’s got the hots for you.’
‘I wouldn’t want to lead him on -’
She laughed. ‘I understand, but he’s cool; I’ll ask him.’
She must have placed her device down as Linda gave a muffled shout, followed by an even more indistinct conversation.
After a minute, she was back. ‘He says he’ll do it. Just text me what you need and the address.’
I let out a sigh of relief. ‘Thank you. I’ll message you the info right now.’
With my mind already scrolling through the stacks of study materials room in my apartment, I typed out a list of the essential books I needed.
While I waited for Tony to arrive, I rearranged and rescheduled my Queen Clean clientele appointments, then rummaged in Lorenzo’s kitchen for food.
I ate a cheese sandwich, with a fresh salad and coffee.
I tidied up, wiping down surfaces and placing dishes away.
I even found one of Lorenzo’s sweaters in the living room thrown on a sofa.
Pushing my face into it, I breathed his essence in long and deep, pervaded by his musk-like scent that clung to the fibres, a mix of his cologne and unique, masculine aroma.
Longing and desire washed over me.
Damn this man, he was growing on me.
Just then, the front gate’s bell went off.
I went to the door, where Tony’s visage loitered on the security panel screen.
I buzzed him into the property and opened the front door, greeting him with a smile.
‘Tony, thank you so much for helping me out. You have no idea how much this means to me.’
On a whim, I hugged him; our awkward kiss was well behind us.
‘No worries, beautiful,’ he rumbled, disentangling himself from me. ‘Linda begged and made 1001 promises, so I figured I’d help her a bit,’ Tony replied, flashing a warm smile.
While sometimes a rogue, I sensed a measure of goodness in him.
He held out a shopping bag, which I assumed contained my precious finance books.
‘How is she?’
‘Grumpy, under the weather, coughing and spluttering through the apartment,’ he added, waggling his eyebrows. ‘I couldn’t wait to get away.’
I laughed, appreciating his lightheartedness. ‘I love your optimism. Come in for a coffee?’
His eyes lit up, and I regretted my words, not wanting to send the wrong message.
Still, I had to show my appreciation in some form.
‘Sure,’ he said.
I stepped aside to let him in, my eyes darting to the street, hoping we were safe.
