Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 82767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
I had fetched coffee for the conference room as he had commanded me to do, and returned to my desk. I refused to let myself get annoyed about what Keegan Callahan thought or said. I absolutely refused to think about him in his leathers. I told myself it was natural to feel attracted to a handsome stranger. There was no denying he was handsome. He was all cheekbones and his hair had a tendency to curl where it was longer… But no. I wasn’t allowing myself to go there. I hated to admit it, but Beatrix was right. Maybe I did need to get laid.
I thought about Drew. I’d had a text message from him late the previous night, but I hadn’t replied. I took out my phone and reread the message. He wanted to meet up. And why the hell not? I thought. I suggested a late supper and he instantly replied, accepting my offer. We arranged to meet in town, and I felt my mood instantly improve. In fact, I was counting down the hours until I could get out of Clover House and forget the place.
Those hours passed slowly, but as I made my way home in the sunshine and washed the day away in a hot shower, I began to relax. I had an hour to play with before it was time to leave, so I took time to tame my hair and put on some makeup. I chose a floaty top and skinny jeans and took my purple leather jacket off its peg. The leather brought back the memory of Keegan and I actually blushed, even though I was alone, and then chided myself for being utterly pathetic or weirdly horny. It was going to take more than Keegan Callahan to put me off my favorite jacket, I thought, and tucked it under my arm as I left my apartment.
Drew was waiting in the park, where he said he would be. I watched him as I approached. He was wearing dark jeans and a khaki-colored shirt with a button-up sweater over it. He was bent over with his elbows on his knees, reading a magazine. When I arrived, he didn’t say hello, but got up and hugged me. It was a long hug, his arms properly wrapped around me so I felt completely enveloped in him. Why did this feel so different from when I had seen him for a beer before? I put it down to the fact that he smelled of some light cologne that reminded me of the forest. I was so glad to see someone I knew, someone I liked, after such a rotten day. On impulse, I hooked my arm into his and we set off, slowly walking in the direction of the theater district. We both knew where we were heading. Nonna’s was an Italian café that we used to go to after we had been out at a gallery or gig. It was a small, intimate little place tucked between two larger restaurants, serving snacks and light meals and the best Italian coffee in Boston.
“I haven’t been here since the last time we were here together,” I remarked, sitting down in the familiar booth and marveling inwardly that very little had changed. The walls were still pasted with old advertisements from Italian newspapers. A series of mismatched chandeliers and candlesticks covered in the wax of a thousand candles lent the place a sort of faded glamour that I loved.
“I’ve been in a couple times, but it’s good to be here together.” He smiled, holding my eye for a little longer than was strictly necessary.
We studied the menus and decided to order the appetizer platter. Back in the day, this would have been a huge treat. We had both struggled to make ends meet back then, so we would have been much more likely to share a pizza, or stick to coffee and tiramisu. Now to have this huge platter of antipasti, freshly baked bread, olives, and cheese set down between us felt like a special occasion.
“It’s good to know that some things don’t change,” I said looking around. “I’m sure that’s the same waiter!”
“You know what, I reckon it is!” Drew laughed. “But let’s not talk about change tonight. Let’s just eat and drink and then walk it all off. It is a beautiful evening.”
He was right, and his light-hearted tone was a relief. It was one of those warm spring evenings that teased summer, and people were emerging into the sunshine after a long Boston winter. Everywhere people were strolling along, sitting on benches chatting, walking their dogs. There was a background hubbub of chatter and laughter both inside and outside the café, and it felt like the world was a happy place.
“I was so tired of winter this year, it felt like it went on forever,” I said, helping myself to more bread.