“Oh.” I paused. “Can I call you back tomorrow to confirm?”
“Everything okay?”
“I just have to check with Damien.”
“Oh, you’re not with him?”
“No, I’m cleaning my apartment right now. He’s, ah, he’s busy today.”
“Okay. Call me later and confirm. Stewart has reservations at Rustic Alley for seven. If you can’t go, we’ll do another night.”
“Okay, sounds good.”
I hung up and shook my head. I was acting as if Damien and I had really had a fight. Broken up. I was being silly. I tossed my phone to the table, opened the blinds, and got to work.
* * *
My apartment gleamed, and my body ached. I looked around, satisfied. I had scrubbed every inch. Opened my windows with the music playing. Made sure I could be seen. Egan stayed in the next room, occasionally making a comment, but stayed busy with a sketchbook in his hand. Finally done, I closed the windows again, shutting the blinds, and turning on the small air conditioner. I showered, changed, and sat down. Egan was across from me, his head still bent over his work.
“What are you drawing?” I asked.
“Something for Damien.”
“Ah.”
I had discovered he was a man of few words.
“Are you hungry?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I could eat.”
“I don’t have much here, but we can order in.”
He nodded. “Soon.”
“Okay.”
He kept his eyes on the pad. “So, you are a woman.”
“Last time I checked.”
“Do you find me attractive?”
“Um…” I hesitated.
He looked up with a wry grin. “I mean in general. I know you are Damien’s lady.”
Damien’s lady.I liked the sound of that.
“Yes, Egan. You are very good-looking. Sort of exotic.”
He frowned. “Exotic?”
“You can tell you’re a different nationality. Your features are bold. Your voice is unusual. The accent makes you sound, well, sexy.”
He paused, rubbing his chin. “And that is good, yah?”
I smiled. “Yes.”