Page 70 of Sticky Fingers
We get to 7th Avenue and he slows down.
Well, it was nice while it lasted, but he’s probably heading over towards Hell’s Kitchen or somewhere on the West Side. No way he could be living in Clarendon Tower.
And that’s when the universe tells me how wrong I am.
Because Gym Guy nods over to the doorman who opens the door with a smile and walks into my building.
Now I’m a bit nervous as I walk into the lobby.
To see him right there, turned around, and staring at me.
I’m like a deer caught in headlights.
“Are you following me?” Gym Guy asks, a smirk on his face.
I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s the smirk. Maybe it’s the way he’s got an easiness about him. But whatever it is, I’m completely disarmed and more than anything in the world, I want to make a joke.
“I knew I should have finished that stalking class before trying it out in public,” I say with a smile. I wonder if he’s going to get creeped out.
“It’s just not everyday beautiful women stalk me on the streets of Manhattan,” he says with a chuckle and walks over to me. “Name’s Taylor John,” he says to me holding out his hand.
Oh. My. God.
“The Taylor John?” I ask. “CEO of Draper Pierce?”
He smiles sheepishly and nods. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize him from the TV. This guy is only the CEO of the largest investment bank in the world.
“Ashley Carlson,” I say, shaking his hand.
“Do you live at Clarendon Tower?” he asks me.
“No,” I say, letting some sarcasm drip off. “I just followed you here.”
“Hey,” Taylor says with a chuckle. “You never know.”
I roll my eyes at him. “Please,” I say. “If I was half as good a stalker as you think I am I’d wait farther back.”
“Do you stalk people for a living?” Taylor asks.
“Sort of,” I say with a smile. “I’m a professional lawyer.”
“Corporate?” he asks me.
“Securities litigation,” I tell him.
“Ever sued us?” he asks, referring to Draper Pierce.
“Yup,” I say sticking out my tongue. “The fee paid for my apartment here.”
He laughs at this and I join in.
“Care for a drink Friday night?” he throws out there.
Whoa.
The guy is smooth.
“Why not tonight?” I ask, raising my eyebrow.
