I’d figure all of it out if it killed me.
I hopped into my truck and shoved my phone into the holder. A message was waiting for me.
Dahlia:
Jimmy’s Pizza is sitting here on the conference table. I might save you a slice.
My stomach growled, just reading that. I didn’t know if Jimmy’s had good pizza or not. I had my doubts since I’d lived a good chunk of my life in New York City and Chicago. But it might fill the hole and saved me trying to figure out food.
You want to see her, jackass.
Might as well just own up to it.
NINETEEN
I gripped the steering wheel. I should turn around and head back to my place. Hell, I should go anywhere but to Dahlia’s, but my idiot ass turned toward Kensington Square instead of back toward the lake.
It was a Friday afternoon and while it was hot enough to blast the AC, it wasn’t as oppressive as it had been a few days ago. The foot traffic increased the closer I got to Designing Women. Shops and eateries were plentiful in this part of the city.
But it was also nice enough that people were knocking off early and I found a spot a few buildings down from the design studio. I shoved my phone into my pocket as I slid out of my truck. As I crossed the street, I spotted her through the large picture window.
She was sitting cross-legged, with her feet tucked under her. A pizza box was on the table as well as a salad and sweating can of Diet Coke. I couldn’t stop a grin as I noticed the salad sat untouched, but a pair of greasy pieces of pizza filled her plate.
I pushed the door open and the bell tinkled over my head.
She looked up, a welcoming smile on her face then her expression morphed into the annoyed snarl that had no business making me want to smile.
“Hellcat.”
“So, the pizza lured you in finally?”
“Depends on how good it is.”
She unwound her legs and crossed them at the knee instead. Her shoes had been discarded under the desk, leaving her sexy feet bare with that damn dark red toenail polish that reminded me of the other night.
Her foot against my chest, her legs open for me.
Waiting for my mouth on her dripping pussy.
“Well, don’t just stand there glowering at me.” She pushed the box toward the chair beside her. “You want a Coke?”
“Yeah, that’d be good. It’s hot as hell.”
She stood up and went to a cabinet beside the conference table. Inside was a mini fridge stocked with sodas.
“Oh, can I have one of the Mt. Dews instead?”
“Luckily, TJ just bought a new case.” She slid the can down to me.
I grabbed it and cracked the top, taking a long drink. I flipped the box open to find half cheese and a half-loaded pie with hot peppers. Girl after my own heart. A plate sailed toward me as I lifted them out and I stopped it with the thin yet crispy pizza. I lifted the loaded one to my mouth and hummed around the spicy mix of veg and meat. “Good.”
“Jimmy’s is the best.” She plucked a piece of pepper off hers and popped it in her mouth. “Spicy peppers make it.”
I’d never known a woman to enjoy food as much as she did. Most of the ones I’d known—save for my sister—were more worried about counting calories than enjoying them. She ate with relish, and I was very glad that a table covered me.
“So, Gideon sent me the report. Did you have a chance to look it over yet?”
“I started to and got pissed off at how long it was.” I took another bite.
She ripped off a piece of crust and dabbed it over her pizza to soak up all the good stuff. When I gave her a look, she shrugged. “I like to eat my crust first.” She popped it in her mouth. When she finished chewing, she sipped from her soda. “I know it looks long, but it’s a lot of little stuff. Bringing an old house up to code is a pain in the ass, but Gideon has a great team. Only thing that might slow us down is plumbing.”
I leaned back in my chair, wiping off my fingers with a napkin. “Think that’ll kill my bottom line?”
“It ain’t gonna be pretty.” She picked up her crustless pizza and folded it New York style and took a big bite.
“The real question I have is how long is it going to take?”
She put her slice down. “Gideon gave me a heads-up there. You’re not going to like it.”
“End of summer?”
She pointed her finger to say higher.
“Fall?” My chest tightened and a growl curled under my breastbone.
“Maybe by the end of fall.”
