Page 9 of Wrong Place, Wright Time
“Oh, I can get you an audience with the boss anytime you want,” she says. “You just give me a call and I’ll make it happen.”
“I’ll do that,” he says, tapping the side of his nose.
“Are you two for real?” I say, looking between the two of them. “Number one, I’m right here. And number two, I can make my own dinner plans.”
“She really can’t,” Karen puts in. “She eats take out probably six days out of the week.”
“Because I don’t like to cook. What’s the harm in that?” I ask, arms out to the side.
“I can cook,” Banks says, turning his attention to me. “And I’ve got a fully stocked kitchen. Any night of the week, I’ll step away from the club and cook you a meal that’ll make you wonder how you ever got by without me.”I’ve been wondering that since you made me come three times in a row last week.
My breath thickens and I have to shake the lusty haze from my thoughts. This isn’t happening.
“I’m fine eating chow mien noodles and satay as my main sustenance. Now, if you’ll excuse me, my car is here.”
I step to the side and head for the car only a few feet away with my driver waiting beside it. “It was lovely to run into you, Banks.Good night,Karen.”
Karen giggles and gives me a finger wave as she steps away, miming to Banks that he should call her and she’ll write him in the diary. I slap a hand over my face.She’s incorrigible!
Banks chuckles and moves to open my door for me, nodding politely at the driver who steps out of the way. “She’s a hoot.”
“She thinks she’s hilarious,” I say, dropping my purse into the backseat before I turn back to Banks who still has that gorgeous, ovary-stimulating smile on his handsome face. “What are you doing here, Banks?”
He bounces a shoulder. “I was walking by.”
“At the exact moment I decided to call it a night?” I glance at my watch and it’s close to seven-twenty. Not a normal clock-off time.
“What can I say? I’m a lucky guy.”
“Or,you’re taking up stalking as a hobby.”
“Oh, I’m sure no man could get close to you if you weren’t willing to let him in, Isla Wright.”
Something about the way he leans in and his voice lowers to an intimate level sends delighted chills all over my body. I lower my eyes before I look back up at him. “That’s because I prefer solitude, Mr. Banks,” I say as I slide into the car, tucking my legs inside and smiling back at him. “Have a nice evening.”
“You too, Ms. Wright.” He grins and places his hand on the top of the car door. “You know, I’m not going away.”
“That’s your choice, I suppose,” I say, trying to quiet the thundering of my heart.
“I’m also going to wear you down. One day, I’ll be sitting in that car right beside you.”
“You seem very sure of yourself, Mr. Banks.”
“Just Banks. But you already know that,” he says, giving me a wink before he steps away and closes me in.
“Everything OK, ma’am?” the driver asks before we set off.
“Yeah,” I say, realizing I’m slightly out of breath. “Everything’s just fine.”
And as we pull away from the curb, I find myself unable to take my eyes off the waiting Banks, standing on the curve with his hands in his pockets until we just can’t see each other anymore. I don’t fail to notice the way my heart responds. It’s like I miss him even though he isn’t mine to begin with.
Banks
“Oh, now he turns up,” Darren says when I arrive at his apartment at eleven the next day. He knew I was coming. We'd organized this brunch a week ago when I called to apologize for not going to his show. But, in a true Darren style, he needs to give me shit for it. “Only about 250 hours too late, but hey, you made it. Well done, cousin.” He pats me on the back as I walk through the door.
“Don’t listen to the drama queen,” Theo, Darren’s fiancé says as I shrug off my coat. “He didn't even notice you weren't at the show because he was too busy lapping up all the attention from his audience. I honestly think you could have not apologized and he wouldn't have even thought about it.”
“Take that back, you cheeky man who's giving away all of my secrets,” Darren teases, feigning an indignant gasp while he leads me to the little table in their kitchen. It's one of those old farmhouse ones with the weathered wood and faded paint. They also have mismatched chairs that add to the aesthetic. It’s topped off with a lace table runner and a galvanized watering can with a bunch of flowers stuck into it. The only thing separating this from a suburban housewife's kitchen is the nipple tassel that's dangling off the watering can’s spout.
