The women in the shop stare at Elijah as he glides across the room. “Maybe you were right.” He stops beside my chair. “You might be pretty graceless.” His eyes gleam. His dimplesdeepen.
Yep. My face is aninferno.
“She had to pee,” Steph blurts, and I want to choke her. “And she has some depth perception issues, hence her overturning that cart back there. I’m sure a refined man like yourself is aware that women can’t pee alone.” Steph extends her arm over my lap. “I’m Steph sinceDemihere isrude.”
He shakes her hand. “Elijah.” This is a disaster waiting tohappen.
“So…” I shoot a stern look at Steph before turning my attention to him. “Do you come here often, or should I be concerned that you’re following me? The grocery store, the bar, now the nailsalon.”
He chuckles. “I was leaving a meeting on the East Side and just happened to see you through the window. It seems we can’t stay away from eachother.”
Steph snickers like a child. If I were closer, I’d shove my elbow into herribcage.
“What does the rest of your afternoon look like?” heasks.
“Well,I’m—”
“She’s not doing anything,” Steph chimesin.
Elijah smirks. “How about coffee in Central Park by the mall after you get finished here. Say in anhour?”
“I…”
“She’ll be waiting,” Steph answers, and I turn to glare at her. “And, um, Elijah…” She grins like the Cheshire cat. “Demihere, in case you haven’t caught on yet, is really awkward and scared of random things, so begentle.”
His chin drops on a laugh, and he sweeps my hair behind my shoulder. “She’s different, that’s for sure.” He winks, then turns on his heel and heads to theexit.
When I glance back at Steph, she looks more than pleased withherself.
“You—are an asshole,” Igrumble.
“Look, I’m doing you a favor. You’d self-sabotage that shit if I didn’tintervene.”
“Maybe I don’twantto go have coffee withhim.”
“Nope. I saw the way you looked at him. You want to have coffee with him.” She shrugs. “You only live once, and I can promise you, a man like that is a once-in-a-lifetimeopportunity.”
_____
Freshly paintednails and a stroll along the mall with a sexy man. I’d have to say this day has turned out prettywell.
The sun fades behind the elm trees lining the path as we pass caricature artists and vendors selling “I heart NYC” T-shirts. The weight of the silence bares down on me, and I fumble through conversation topics, attempting to come up with something todiscuss.
“How long have you lived in New York?” heasks.
I almost breathe a sigh of relief. “Ten years. What aboutyou?”
“I moved here about five years ago. I was in San Francisco beforethat.”
“You move alot?”
“Every once in awhile.”
“I heard you mention you were leaving the other night,” Isay.
Henods.
“Where are yougoing?”
