Page 16 of The Hookup
“Which bar?”
He knew, the moment she asked that question that she would show up at The Oasis, soon enough. Unless he gave her the name of one of his other places that he rarely visited.
But she seemed lonely, and in need of company, and he didn’t want to behave like a total douche. Xavier had already done that to her.
“It’s The Oasis.”
“That rooftop terrace bar?” She sounded as if she’d heard of it. “Is that the place with a club in the basement?”
“It’s called The Vault. Have you been?”
“With Savannah once or twice.” She lifted her chin and looked up at him through her thick lashes. “Where do you mostly work?”
“At The Oasis.”
“I’ll have to check it out. Don’t be surprised if you see me there in the next week or two.”
“I won’t be.”
She was going to show up. He just knew it.
Chapter 6
The flight back had been a bitch and she had a 7am meeting this morning with her boss. Theodore Remington was a slave driver in an Armani suit. But he was also giving her the important Pembroke deal to handle.
She had to get her act together and fast.
Two strong expressos, a breath freshening mint, and she’d be wide awake and fully alert.
“’Morning, Miss.”
Damn that over-friendly concierge.
“Arnold,” she mumbled, not even looking up to acknowledge him. She was too busy checking messages and emails on her cell phone.
“How was the wedding, Miss?”
“Beautiful.” She quickly replied to a text message from one of the analysts in her team.
“Do you have any photos, Miss?”
“What?” She looked up. “No, I don’t.”
“Oh, really, Miss?” His face crumpled with disappointment.
“Really, Arnold.” She eyed her wristwatch. Freaking hell. She was already running late and needed to catch a cab in the next five minutes otherwise Remington would eat her alive.
Arnold stood in front of her. “But how she did Miss Savannah look? And Jacob?”
“They looked good. Great. Wonderful.” She hoped that a flurry of superlatives would get him off her back. She rushed out, her nerves jangled and her body still running on Fiji’s time clock. Out on the street, she looked both ways on the street, in an attempt to catch a cab.
“I can call you a cab, Miss,” said Arnold. He stood on the curb waving his arm at the cab which was coming down the street.
No sooner had it stopped, than she jumped in.
Damn it.
Issuing the address to the cab river, she prayed for a traffic-free passage. With any luck, she’d make it there on time.
