Her brow furrows. “Is he someone famous?”
I laugh as I skim through the inbox folder on the open laptop that’s on my desk. “He’s not famous although he’s good-looking enough to be in the movies.”
“So, he’s not famous? Explain to me why I wouldn’t believe that you met a hot guy at a wedding. Don’t tell me it’s someone I know. That’s it, isn’t it? You two started talking about your lives and put two-and-two together and he’s one of my exes.”
I take a second to absorb all of that. Gabi’s personal life has put mine to shame the past two years. She’s all about taking chances and if she feels there’s no spark within the first hour of meeting a man, she’ll let him know.
I admire that about her. She sees the value in every second that life gifts her with and she uses it to her full advantage.
How am I supposed to know if Evan is one of her exes? The chances may seem slim on the surface, but there’s always a possibility. “Do you know anyone named Evan?”
“Evan?” she asks quietly. “The guy you met is named Evan?”
I trust that’s his name although it could be anything. I’m still hiding behind a fake name. I have no idea if he’s doing the same thing. “Yes. Evan. He looks like he’s in his early thirties with brown hair and gorgeous blue eyes.”
She runs the tip of her index finger over her bottom lip. “I’ve never met an Evan. He sounds hot. Are you two getting together for lunch?”
The details of my mid-day meeting with Evan aren’t important. If I tell Gabi that I’m going to hook up with him before my two o’clock conference call, I’ll spend the rest of the day evading a barrage of questions.
“We are,” I answer truthfully before I try to deflect. “Can you have the Cooperman file on my desk when I get back? I want to go over it before my call at two.”
She leans back in the chair, her gaze narrowing. ?
??I’ll handle it, but after that call is over, we’re going to talk more about Evan and lunch.”
We’ll see about that.
Keeping details about Evan to a minimum means fewer complications and interference from my well-meaning friends and family.
It also means I can keep what’s between us purely physical and after what I’ve been through the past few years, that’s exactly what I need.
Chapter 11
Chloe
I step into the lobby of the Bishop Hotel at noon. It’s busy. There’s a line of people waiting to either check-in or out. I assume it’s to check out since every hotel I’ve ever stayed in wants its guests to clear their rooms by twelve o’clock so they can ready them for the tourists who arrive later in the day.
I scan the faces of the people waiting to approach the reception desk. Evan isn’t there. I glance over at a small seating area. There are two leather sofas and three chairs. Four people are gathered there, but they’re all women.
As I turn in a circle to take in the entire lobby, I glance at every dark-haired man that I see. Not one of them is Evan. The excitement that has been buzzing inside of me since I saw him this morning starts to fade.
He might have stood me up.
The thought of Evan bailing on me after our conversation this morning stings.
I know that I wasn’t imagining the way he was looking at me. There was hunger in his eyes when he saw me. He wanted me as much as I wanted him.
I start toward the lobby doors, intent on getting my ass back to my office where life is safe and predictable. I’m in control there. I know how to do my job and at the end of each day when I get home to my apartment, I’m content.
Maybe my life is as dull as watching paint dry. At least, I know what to expect almost every minute of every day.
“Jane?” A female voice calls from the left.
I ignore it because the only person who refers to me that way is Evan.
Just as I feel a light tap on the shoulder, the woman repeats the name. “Jane. You’re Jane, aren’t you?”
Before I can say another word, a bouquet of bright flowers is shoved into my hands.