Everett hoped the time alone on the walk would help him gather his thoughts for how to broach the conversation to come, but his mind whirled as he analyzed his proposal all over again.
Who was Isabel Shipley? Was she really as intriguing as he'd found her in Vegas?
Everett walked the few blocks to the coffee shop beneath Isabel's apartment and stepped inside, suddenly in need of a few more minutes to put his thoughts in order.
The woman behind the counter smiled as he entered.
"Welcome to London's Lattes. What can I get for you?"
He placed an order for two and distracted himself by studying the various items on display and for sale.
"Just visiting or a new resident?" the woman asked as she worked.
Everett glanced around and realized she spoke to him. "Uh, visiting. Any recommendations? I landed about an hour ago."
A small smile pulled at the woman's mouth as she nodded.
"Well, you're off to a good start," she said, setting one cup on the counter. "Best coffee around. Other than that, be sure to check out the pier, pier house and aquarium, and downtown Wilmington. There's a lot of history here if that's your sort of thing. Especially if you like pirates."
"Pirates?"
"Mmm. Blackbeard, Stede Bonnet... Oh, and there's the battleshipNorth Carolinadocked across the river as well. You could also do a day trip to Bald Head Island or Southport. There's no shortage of things to do here. It’s just a matter of preference."
"I'll check them out. Thanks." He tucked the information back for reference later, hoping to explore the area with Isabel at his side. Maybe that would help break the tension he instinctively knew would be present?
He'd always been a sucker for historical facts, and growing up, he'd dreamed of actually being a pirate king. The memory brought a rare smile to his lips. He couldn't have been more than four or five at the time, racing through the house while wearing his eye patch and hat and carrying a tiny plastic sword.
The memory following it, however, was not as pleasant.
"Here's your order. Can I get you anything else?"
Drawn back to the present, he remembered Isabel's penchant for chocolate desserts and added two chocolate-drizzled scones to the order. While the barista bagged those, he pulled out his card to pay.
The woman lifted a delicate eyebrow high at the sight of the black card but didn't say anything as he swiped it and added a generous tip. "Thanks for the info," he said.
"Any time. Come back again soon."
He lifted the bag and coffee carrier and quickly left the coffee shop only to pause along the sidewalk entrance to the apartment upstairs.
He stared up at the second-floor window.You've secured billion-dollar deals. You can handle one tiny woman.
But could he?
What would it be like seeing her again? Would he feel the same instant pull to Isabel as he had in Vegas? Chemistry so strong he hadn't been able to keep himself from touching her? Or had it been the dim lights, their celebration of her show, not to mention his own melancholy at the time, combined with Isabel's bright, smiling persona that had charmed him into thinking it was more than a hookup?
Everett inhaled before opening the outer door. The interior held a musty yet coffee-and-chocolate-tinged scent.
The stairs squeaked as he made his way up them to a hallway and the single door at the end, and once again he paused to collect himself.
In the days since leaving Las Vegas, he'd had a background check performed on Isabel. That's how he knew about the apartment and her family, and he now had a better understanding of her relationship with Michael Devoncourt. They weren't blood-related cousins but merely the children of best friends, a group whose connections dated back long before Isabel and Michael were born.
He couldn’t imagine having a family that size, even an extended one. Though he supposed his father’s seven wives and their children would count as his extended family if one chose to think of them that way. He didn’t…but only because he’d never had much contact with any of them.
Everett knocked softly and waited. And waited.
Knocking again received the same response, and after choking down his disappointment because not a single sound could be heard on the other side, he retraced his steps.
The barista who'd filled his coffee order was walking down the sidewalk toward the back of the building with a bag of trash and saw him exiting the apartment entrance.