Symone’s thoughtfulness made him smile again. He texted her back. “Yes, but not to talk about Pan. I want to talk about Symone. I need your help with something.”
His phone vibrated again. “I’m game. When and where?”
He grinned. “My condo, in fifteen.”
A bike ride later, he opened the door and revealed a curious-looking Chase.
“You look shockingly well given the worry in Symone’s eyes.”
“I bounce back fast.” He shrugged and stepped back.
“Alright, so why am I here?”
“I know jack shit about romance, Chase.”
“And you think I do?” Chase snickered.
“More than me. I want to set up a special night for Symone, here at the condo.”
“Like a dinner?” Chase frowned. Her smooth brow furrowed and her eyes darkened as she focused.
“Yes?”
“Oh, you are hopeless. Okay…romantic evening. Champagne on ice, flowers and a decent meal. Can you even cook?”
“Enough to not starve.”
“That’s a no. We’ll order in. Do you know her favorite flower or color?”
“Pink roses if peonies aren’t in season and any light shade of pink to dark, then park it before you hit the Pepto range.”
She arched an eyebrow at him.
“We talk, Chase. This isn’t some temporary shit. She’s not a biker bunny, or a convenient lay.”
Chase held up her hands. “Bro, don’t kill the messenger. Most men are clueless. I’m impressed.”
“Good, let’s hope she will be too.”
“Oh, trust me, she will be. Do you want to do this tonight?”
“I figured the least I can do is balance some of the bad with the good.”
“Good for you. I’ll be your errand girl, since I’m driving a cage right now, and you can straighten the place up a bit, change the sheets, the little things you men don’t think to do.”
“I’m on it.”
“Alright, we’ll meet back up in say an hour. I’ll place the order at my favorite Italian place and you can pick it up tonight at…say, five-thirty?”
“Perfect, you’re a lifesaver, Chase.”
“I like Symone a lot. If you weren’t going for her, hell, I might have.”
“Seriously?”
She winked and headed for the door, leaving him amused and intrigued. Chase was good at that.
* * * *