“Well, look at that.” Otto got a glint in his eye and came to sit next to her. He put his champagne glass down and then set hers next to his. “I have something for you.”
“Oh boy,” she said, knowing what she hoped it was.
He took out a small notebook from inside his jacket. Extracting a piece of paper, he held it out to her.
It was a drawing. There was a very pretty woman dancing on top of a bar, a cocktail in her hand and her dress flying around long, lovely legs.
Then she gasped, leaning in to take a closer look. “Is this me?”
“Of course it’s you. Who else would it be?”
But in the drawing she looked so youthful and joyous. She lifted her gaze to his. “You think I look like this?”
“No. Youdolook like that.”
Well, if that wasn’t something. “I love it,” she murmured, tracing the ink lines.
He gently took her free hand in his. “Lottie Morgan, will you do me the honor of going to dinner with me tonight?”
“Yes,” she said without hesitation. “If you promise to kiss me after.”
“That can be arranged.” He smiled at her. “But I’m happy to kiss you now too, if you’d like a down payment.”
“Yes, please.” She threw her arms around his neck and opened her heart to him.
The kiss took her by surprise again, it was so electric. Was it because they were older and knew what they were doing? Was it chemistry that hit them just right? She didn’t know.
She really didn’t care either—as long as he never stopped.
Twenty-Four
Didier sat in his office, sipping his Moroccan coffee, as he looked out the window at the wintry Chicago landscape. It was less an office than a lavish palace of style—just the way he preferred it. Velvet, extravagant prints, silks, all in deep jewel tones. Some thought he was overstated but he knew he was just perfect. He wore what he wanted, and he surrounded himself with beauty.
Just like he’d vowed when he was a little boy growing up in the slums of Marseille.
It was a cold, gray day outside. It often was in Chicago. He’d lived in England the past few years, so he was used to the rain, but here today it snowed—not the picturesque snow of the Alps but dirty and depressing.
It matched his mood.
“Rachel and I are off to dinner.”
He looked to the right to find Jamie standing in the doorway. He nodded at his friend. “Am I the last one here?” he asked, lifting his cup to his mouth.
“Yes. Alice took the afternoon off, and Lottie headed home to get ready for her date with Otto.”
That brought a smile to his lips. Lottie deserved all the happiness in the world. He was glad he could help in his small way to bring that about.
Jamie grinned. “We’re having a double date with Danny and Jules.”
Didier shook his head. “Is it the end of the world?”
“I know.” His friend laughed. “Who’d have thought.”
In private, Didier was willing to admit that maybe he’d been a little wrong about Daniel Osei—Danny Gilbert now. He’d certainly turned out to be a different person than he’d expected. He’d risen to the occasion. One had to admire a man who saw the potential for love and happiness and pursued it.
Not that he’d ever admit that to the man. He enjoyed giving him a hard time too much.
He arched his brow at Jamie. “I hope you do not get indigestion. You will need adigestif.”