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I look down and nearly run into the poor old lady in front of me.
Sure.
Is she serious? I’ve really stepped into it this time, and I’m about to sink in even deeper.
About to cross Morton St.
I can already see the dots indicating she’s typing.
Meet you in 15 at L’aile.
Corner of Bleecker & Grove.
I don’t venture that way often, but I know the place she’s talking about. French, good wine. A small garden courtyard, which is like gold in the summer, trees shading the space and making it pleasant rather than stifling.
Alfresco dining.
But staying cool isn’t my biggest worry right now. I’m struggling to make sense of what the hell just happened. Even for me, this is a potential fuckup of epic proportions. Then again, it’s just lunch. She’s admitted to having meetings with sponsors outside work hours. And although I shouldn’t have asked, Ididask.
With each step toward the restaurant, dozens of reasons for why I should turn around pop into my head.
And only one keeps me walking forward.
13
Ada
He’s already here.
I nearly turn back before he sees me. Somehow, I knew exactly what table he’d be sitting at. The more I learn about Hayden Tanner, and his penchant for getting what he wants, the more I realize I’m playing with fire. I’ve dealt with uber-wealthy people before, especially in the last two years as an RPM. But Hayden is a different kind of wealthy. And a different kind of sponsor. One who has the potential to wreak absolute havoc on my life. I should absolutely not be meeting him for lunch, even if I rationalized this a hundred different ways in the last fifteen minutes.
So much for my vow to Karlene. I picked up and put down my phone so many times in the last twenty-four hours that my finger was actually cramped when I woke up this morning. I didn’t even know that was a thing.
Don’t do this, Ada.
But of course I’m already doing it. I take a step forward, toward the little courtyard. Toward Hayden, who’s sitting at the best seat in the house, under the shade, legs outstretched like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
Some people just have it. A presence that’s impossible to ignore. A magnetism that pulls everyone around them in, luring them closer. The ability to send a borderline inappropriate text that makes a normally sensible woman come running.
He stands when he sees me.
I’ll pretend I was totally lounging around in my new denim shorts and linen cami. No panicked scramble to put myself together here.
Liar.
“Hi, Ada.”
Oh God.
Reaching out his hand like a perfect gentleman, Hayden smiles easily, so I find myself doing the same. Then, just as our hands touch, he reaches around with his other hand, covering mine in a decidedly more familiar gesture than your standard handshake. It’s over too quickly for me to relish his touch. Which is fine. I really shouldn’t be relishing anything about this encounter.
But I am.
“Hi,” I manage as he points to my seat.
“Is this okay?”
I mean the lunch place, but instead of looking around the courtyard, he stares straight back at me. “More than okay.”
