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She kept droning on, obviously thankful to have someone to listen to her. “…quite compelling bonuses, such as healthcare both in America and the UK, which is practically unheard of, and a share structure in some of his companies. Admittedly, it isn’t fun to work during Christmas, federal holidays, and from the hospital when I had my tonsils removed, however…”
I saw it again. The flash of color. This time nestled between two bulky doormen outside. Whatever this thing was, it stood behind the golden barriers with the burgundy ropes.
Wait a minute. A head full of messy, wavy, brown hair.
Pink bomber jacket.
High-waisted Levi’s.
Bright red Doc Martens.
Dot.
She was here. In London. At La Vie en Rogue. I spotted her arguing heatedly with the doormen, using wild hand gestures and mimicking a…sleeping baby?
Her tics were out of control. She was blinking hard and fast. I was about to stand up and let her in—and fire the two doormen on the spot while I was at it—when she spotted me through the glass window.
I immediately knew what it looked like. Me. Sitting next to a beautiful woman who had her back to her. To make shit worse, Gia seemed animated and completely engrossed in our one-sided conversation.
“…thought about leaving so many times, but at this point, my entire bloody family is on my payroll. I told Mum she could retire early, she loathed her job so much…”
My eyes snapped back to Cal. She stared at the scene, wide-eyed. I knew how her mind worked. She thought I’d moved on. That it was game over. It had probably taken everything she’d had in her to even get here. I stood up, about to run over there and chase her…
When she did the unthinkable.
The improbable.
She reversed on her heel, turned her back, and walked away…
Only to turn back around and face me. She took a deep breath, gained momentum, and literally barreled through the doormen, bypassing both of them like an NFL player and running straight into the restaurant. They ran after her. I stood up, but she managed to get to me before I could come to her rescue.
“Row!” She slammed headfirst into my chest. Instead of moving back, she clutched my shirt, looking up and blinking at me with wonder. “Sorry to crash, your, er, big day…te? Day or date? Or should I say evenin—”
“This is not a date.” I all but shoved Gia into a commercial oven to bring the point home. “Gia works for Tate, one of my business partners.”
“Oh. Sweet. Hi. I’m Cal!” Cal offered her a hand with a smile.
The doormen reached her, about to wrangle her from my arms.
I turned my chilly look their way. “Lay a hand on my girlfriend, and she will be the last thing you touch, since I’ll chop your fingers off with a cleaver.”
“Sorry, boss.” They both retreated with their palms up, scurrying back outside.
“I’m Gia.” Gia offered Cal her hand with a sweet smile. “Lovely to meet you. Love the pink hair tips.”
Pink hair tips. Pink only symbolized two things—love and vaginas. I was fond of both.
“I love your dress!” Cal exhibited more of that Lab energy of hers. “It’s gorgeous. Where did you g—”
“Dot, baby? Focus.”
“Oh, right.” She returned her attention to me, clearing her throat, her freckled face turning serious. “I…uhm, came here because I have something to tell you.”
This was so fucking wild. “Yeah?”
“But…” She rubbed the back of her neck, gulping. “I’d really rather…demonstrate it to you.”
“I’d strongly prefer to receive any demonstration somewhere private, but I’m not going to stand here and pretend I’ll reject a public display of…eh, demonstration.”
