"Yeah."
Felicity gives both of us a hard stare before turning and making her way to the train. I don'tthinkshe suspects anything, not really. I think she likes cooking up conspiracy theories with Darrell and getting carried away. But still, maybe it'd be for the best if Dustin and I put some distance between us at work.
Still, I follow him down a few blocks until he turns into the lobby of one of those disgustingly luxe condo buildings. A doorman nods at him and smiles at me. Bewildered, I return the smile and hustle to the elevators behind Dustin. He punches in the sixth floor, and the elevator car doesn't even shudder. It justswoopsupward.This is a very fancy building, and I feel slightly out of place with my bright green hair.
The feeling doesn't get better when Dustin ushers me into the apartment. It's a studio, but god, it's nicer than anywhere I've ever lived. New Jersey suburbs included. Marble countertops sparkle under the trendy hanging lights, complimented perfectly by the dark-stained hardwood floors. A few plush rugs—definitely designer—cover the center of the floor and lead to an absolutely massive bed.
I swallow involuntarily. Dustin doesn't seem phased as he sighs and drops his backpack on a wingback chair. Following suit, I gingerly place my laptop bag on the counter and quietly step toward the sectional couch. It's upholstered in millennial grey—because of course it is—but the overstuffed cushions feel heavenly compared to the cheap little loveseat I have in my bedroom.
"So, data optimization?" I ask.
"Yes, of course." He nods. "But do you mind if I take a quick moment to decompress before getting back into it?"
"Sure," I mumble. Jesus, this place is luxe. The stainless steel fridge catches my eye with the filtered water dispenser. "Do you mind if I get some water?"
"Oh, how unbelievably rude of me—yes, of course." He rubs his temples and sighs. "I'm so sorry, Brooke. Falling back into this… well, affectionate state with you has me forgetting my manners. Please, take whatever you want. There's some cheese in the fridge and crackers in the cabinet, too?"
"Don't mind if I do." I perk up. What a perfect little snack after work. Though it isn't the cheese that grabs my attention: it's the top-of-the-line gas stove and wall-mounted oven. Holy shit. It's all sleek stainless steel and perfectly clear glass. The range is spotless, and I can't find a speck of burnt-on crud in the oven. "You've been hiding this from me?"
"Huh?" He peeks over at me and cracks a grin. "Oh, you like it? It's nice, but I'm not really the baking sort. Or the cooking sort, beyond rice and chicken."
"Jesus, that's so boring," I reply teasingly. "Hey… actually, I have an idea on how we can keep our date this weekend."
"You want to use the Atmosphere corporate apartment's kitchen for non-sanctioned baking purposes?"
"Who says it's non-sanctioned?" I throw my hands up. "Why would they pay for this swanky-ass apartment if they didn't want it to beused?"
"Hmm." He feigns deep thought, tapping a finger to his chin. "Let's call it team-building. You can teach me how to be an integral part of the baked goods production process."
"Sure, but you're not getting any of the proceeds. Brooke's Cookies does not participate in profit-sharing."
"Very capitalist of you."
I shudder. "No, I'm an owner-operator. A woman-owned small business that needs all the profit for such bougie expenses as my divorce lawyer."
"You've mentioned that." He frowns. "I don't want to pry, but… was it really all that expensive? I mean, what is your balance at this point?"
"Only a thousand left." I grimace.
"And how many cookies and cupcakes is that?"
"Approximately a shit-ton."
Dustin
WhenIinvitedBrookeover to the apartment, I was kind of hoping for a repeat of our last tryst. But seeing her so excited about the kitchen has all horny thoughts safely tucked in the recesses of my mind. Mostly.
Watching her flit around the kitchen and inspect the range, I can't help but smile at how in-her-element she is. She's one of the most competent people I've ever met, which is what initially attracted me to her all those years ago. She was fearless. Intelligent. Drop-dead gorgeous. I should have known it was her in that silly tourist shop—who else would have the balls to pick a fight with a stranger?
That's Brooke. That's Brooke all over.
My phone rings on the coffee table. Alicia's name scrolls across the screen, and I instinctively answer, waving Brooke over.
"Is this my sister or a little monster?" I tap the speaker phone option, not wanting to exclude Brooke.
"Could be both." Alicia sighs into the phone. "Sorry about earlier; Orion stole my phone from the charger, and I found him holed up in the bathroom watching YouTube."
"YouTube? At age four?"
