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Sin (Just This Once 3)

Page 45

by Deborah Bladon

His arm is wrapped around her shoulder. Fuck him.

Her hair is blowing in the wind.

She’s not wearing eyeglasses.

I pinch my fingers against the screen to zoom in on her beautiful face.

This is what she looked like the night I opened the door of my hotel room in Las Vegas.

Carefree, wild, uninhibited, and breathtakingly gorgeous.

I could have been the one with her last night, calling her out on her bullshit.

I curse under my breath for missing my chance to meet her at Axel Tribeca, but I had no choice.

I’ll find another opportunity to get Linny alone and when I do, she’s not leaving the room until she admits that we spent the night together.

Then

, I want a repeat.

Chapter 23

Linny

I race up the sidewalk toward Nova. I was supposed to meet Roland twenty minutes ago, but my Uber driver didn’t show.

Instead of calling for another car, I hopped on the subway in my new red dress and matching heels.

It took longer than I expected to walk from the subway station to here, but I finally made it.

I peer inside the front window of the restaurant but I don’t spot my date anywhere.

After I opened the box from West, debating whether or not to cancel on Roland ate up most of my afternoon

I couldn’t get West out of my mind. That made me feel a rush of guilt over meeting another man, but this evening isn’t just about getting to know Roland better.

It’s a chance for me to enjoy some decadent food, drink good wine and relax after the brutal week I’ve had.

Taking on a new client is hard enough. When you had an amazing one-night stand with them, it makes everything that much more complicated.

Everything.

“Linny, over here.”

I turn at the sound of Roland’s voice. I recognize it right away, even though nothing about it is extraordinary.

“Roland,” I call out as I raise my hand in his direction.

I see him pushing his way through a crowd of people gathered on the sidewalk outside Nova.

As he approaches, I steel myself for our greeting. We haven’t kissed yet. The only physical contact we’ve had was a handshake the night we met and the brief hug we shared when we said goodbye in this spot almost a week ago.

He looks nice, handsome.

He’s dressed in dark jeans, a blue button-down shirt that’s open at the collar and a black blazer.

Women turn to look at him as he nears me, but those butterflies that I know should be flipping around in my stomach, aren’t there.