Page 8 of Wrong Place, Wright Time
“It’s OK,” she says, reaching across the bar and patting my hand. “I give you my word that no one—not even Ash or Darren—will hear anything from me.”
“I appreciate your confidentiality. Especially since nothing is actually going on between us.”
Her brows go up. “Got it out of your system already then, huh? I really thought there’d be something more to it than one night.”
Pressing my lips together, I inhale a deep breath. “Me too, Tahlia,” I say, before I rap my knuckles against the bar then excuse myself to head toward the office where I can be done with this conversation and have a moment of quiet before service starts. I need to regroup. Wooing Isla via traditional means doesn’t seem to be working. So if I want anything more than just one night with her, I’m going to have to get creative. But what does a man offer when a woman has the means to give herself everything a person in this world could ask for?
Isla
“No flowers today, huh?” Karen says in my doorway as we finish up work. After receiving two bunches of flowers within days of each other, I do have to agree that it felt like it was becoming a habit. But since Wednesday’s bunch was accompanied by a note inviting me to dinner on Friday night—to which I declined—it does seem that Banks has realized he’s barking up the wrong tree. I’m not sure if I’m elated or disappointed. Because I wanted this, right? I wanted to have my night and walk away with no regrets.
So what’s that weird feeling in the pit of my stomach then?
“Can’t blame the guy for quitting his pursuit. It’s kind of a relief, really,” I say, standing up and putting on my coat while my computer shuts down at the end of a long Monday.
“Pity,” she says, looking at her nails. “I was kinda hoping this guy would work a little harder and chip away at the grumpy ‘I’m better off on my own’ façade you’ve got going on.” She deepens her voice at one point, making it out like I’m some kind of craggy bear.
“I don’t think I sound like that.” I laugh.
“Close enough. All that wound licking has deepened your voice.”
“You’re so hilarious,” I say, picking up my bag and heading for the door. She steps out of the way.
“It’s a gift. Maybe I could convince Coco Monroe to give me a go on stage. I think I’d make a stunning drag queen.”
“Aren’t drag queens all men?”
“Oh no, a woman can dress in drag. It’s a style—a character—and I happen to think I’d be amazing.”
“OK. So what would your drag name be?”
She thinks on that for a moment as we leave my office and pause by her desk while she grabs her things. “That’s a tough one. It’d have to be something that reflects my inner self. Oh! I’ve got it,” she says, finger in the air like an exclamation point. “Donna Matrix. I’d wear skintight leather, spike-heeled boots, shiny red lipstick with heavily winged eye makeup and a long, red ponytail that I can whip around like a cat of nine tails.”
“That sounds horrifying,” I say, chuckling over the image she just conjured in my head as we step onto the elevator.
“It sounds exciting,” she points out. “And when I get home, I’m going to tell Andy my idea. I’ll bet he’ll want to act that out as soon as possible. Why, just the other day, I had to take his ball gag out because he had—”
“No, no, no!” I wave my hands in the air, thankful she and I are the only ones left working at this hour, so the elevator cab is empty save for us two. “The moment the words ball and gag are linked together, I can’t listen anymore.”
“You are so unfun.” She pouts, although I know she’s not really upset with me. Slipping in dirty Andy anecdotes and watching me react is probably her favorite sport.
“Just call me nana and leave me to my puzzles,” I say as we hit the ground floor and step out into the lobby. “I honestly prefer solidtude, Netflix and a thousand tiny pieces of cardboard to keep my company.”
“So, hot bar owners wearing tailored pants and a gorgeous fucking vest don’t even register on your radar?” she says, making me frown since that was an oddly descriptive comment.
“Well, no. I mean, sure, we had a great night, but I’m allowed to have it just be that. I’m allowed to choose singledom.”
“Sure, sure,” she says, nodding as we move past security and say goodnight. “You should probably make a beeline to your car in that case. Because I think you’ve already registered onhisradar.”
“What?” I ask, glancing at Karen who points over my shoulder as we step onto the sidewalk. And right into Banks. “Holy fucking hell! Where did you come from?”
“I tried to warn you,” Karen says, reaching around me with her hands out. “Nice to meet you, sir. You are stunning, by the way.”
Banks smiles and my entire reproductive system takes notice. “Thank you, ma’am. The name’s Banks. You are?” He shakes her hand and Karen’s grin is so huge, I know she’s never going to rest until Banks gets one of those chances she thinks I should be giving him.
“Karen. I’m Isla’s bestie. We work together too. I’m her PA.”
“Ah, the woman who controls the schedule. Perhaps it’s you I should be asking to slot me in for a date.” He leans in and gives Karen a conspiratorial wink, making Karen giggle.
