“Are you telling me that you dubbed me tall, dark, and handsome, and you haven’t fantasized about me?”
“Alice dubbed you.”
“You didn’t contradict her.” I park the car in front of her building, but we don’t move from our seats.
Pippa sighs, shifting in her seat. “Why are you suddenly so flirty?”
I hesitate for a second, then decide to be straightforward. “I overheard your conversation with Julie.”
“Wow, so eavesdropping is one of your superpowers,” she says with a smile. “I can’t believe Julie thinks you’re incapable of asking someone on a date.”
“Yeah. My plan for her to believe I’m a monk worked too well, apparently. Time to change that.”
“Eric… I’m still….” Her words fade. After a few beats of silence, she continues in a small voice, “I mean, you know all my baggage.”
I cup her cheek with my hand and look her directly in the eye. “We both have baggage. So what? We’re strong enough to carry it. If not, we’ll hire a bellhop or buy a forklift. I want to learn everything there is to know about you.”
“That’s a big goal,” she whispers.
“We’ll start small. I want to make you smile.”
“It’s been a long time since someone whose last name isn’t Bennett had this goal,” she says sadly.
“I can assure you that I’m up for the task.”
She licks her lips, the corners of her lips lifting in a smile. “So, your daughter’s blessing was all it took for you to change your mind?”
“Maybe.” I drop my voice to a whisper to give it a more conspiratorial feel. “Or maybe you’re irresistible.”
She chuckles, pulling back. “In these clothes?”
“Especially in them. I mean it. Seeing you in my clothes does things to me.”
“Let’s go upstairs.” Her voice is low and husky. “So I can change and give them back to you.”
When we enter her building, the doorman greets us, jerking his head back as he sees Pippa.
In the elevator, Pippa mutters, “Great. Now the doorman thinks I’m doing the walk of shame.”
“Well, you should be ashamed. You directed both of us into the pool.”
She blushes violently, probably remembering my out-of-control rambling. Pippa lives on the eleventh floor in a spacious condo with a generous view of San Francisco.
“So, this is my lair,” she says proudly. “Sorry about the mess. I wasn’t expecting guests.”
There are sketches everywhere.
“You’ve transformed it to a workshop?”
She shrugs. “I take my work home often.”
Leaning against the living room doorframe, I observe her as she picks up sketches from the floor. “I have a proposition for you.”
She straightens up, clutching the pile of sketches to herself. “Let’s hear it.”
“Obviously, neither of us is ready for a date yet. Julie’s more ready for the two of us to date than we are.” I laugh, remembering my daughter’s words. “So let’s go on another nondate.”
“You’re persistent.” She winks at me. “I’m that irresistible, huh?”