Page 13 of The Last Date

He gave me the address of an office building that was thankfully only four blocks away. Finishing up the rest of the day’s work quickly, I made it to the office five minutes early.

Michael was an interior designer, coordinating the complete renovation of his friend’s office space. From his slightly frantic tone, I got the impression that this was his first large job, and he was a little bit in over his head.

Everything was supposed to be completed within two weeks, yet the new walls were still being painted. But he had an insane budget for the art.

I took photos of the lobby, the hallways, and two large board rooms, and assured him that I would come up with a plan as quickly as possible.

Walking briskly back to work, I felt like a million bucks. Quickly dropping a text to Collin, I let him know that it seemed like I’d be selling at least five paintings, even though it would likely be closer to twenty.

By the time I got back to the gallery, it was a quarter after six. As soon as I slipped the key into the door, I sensed someone standing behind me. As I spun around, my knees nearly buckled.

It was Oakley.

“Working late, Sasha?”

He was wearing perfectly fit jeans and a long-sleeved black t-shirt, with a gorgeous distressed leather satchel slung over his shoulder.

Grinning, I let him in, dropping my notes on the desk. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to walk you home.”

My stomach tightened. He wanted to spend some quality time with me. Although I was completely relieved and excited, I’d already been on my feet all day. “It’s an hour-long walk.”

“For you, I have all the time in the world,” he said, stepping close and reaching out to tuck my hair behind my ear, trailing his fingertips along my jaw before tapping my bottom lip. “Do you have the time for me?”

My head nodded automatically. It seemed so easy for him to make me forget to breathe for a little too long.

“I’d really love to,” I finally said, “But if my feet give out part way, will you forgive me?”

Taking me by the elbow, he guided me to the desk chair. As soon as I sat, he knelt in front of me, pulling off my high heels. Reaching into his satchel, he took out little pink sneakers, slipping my feet in and lacing them snuggly. They were a pinch too big, but much better than heels.

“No excuses,” he grinned.

Taking my hands, he pulled me up before he rose from his knees, practically scraping our bodies together as he stood. As his chest brushed across my breasts, I tipped my chin up, obviously begging him to kiss me.

His hand slid around my waist, cupping my behind as he pulled me tightly against him. “Are you ready to go, baby?”

It took me a second to find my breath. Did he really just call me that? “Sure.”

Slipping on my jacket, I grabbed my purse and locked up.

Oakley led us south toward the water. “If it’s an hour-long walk, we might as well add five minutes and make it scenic,” he smiled.

Soon we were walking along the edge of the lake. I wasn’t sure why, but for the first time, I felt like maybe we were becoming a real couple. Maybe we could make a real connection.

“You love your job at the gallery, don’t you?” he asked.

“Yes,” I nodded. “I really do.”

“Why?”

Looking up into his deep eyes, he was genuinely curious.

“Lots of reasons. Artists work and struggle for years before they get any recognition. So if I can sell their pieces and get them some much deserved cash, or get their work into a prominent location, it’s quite satisfying.”

Oakley nodded. “But there’s more.”

“There are a lot of spaces that are pretty bland. Utilitarian. That’s fine for a storage closet, or an operating room. But when it’s your bedroom, your office, your boardroom…places where you need to channel certain sorts of energy...the space deserves real original art.”

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