Hergaze narrowed skeptically. “Why do you call me that?”
“What?”
“Tabby.”
“ShouldI not call you Tabby?”
“No,it’s fine.” She hummed thoughtfully, dropping her gaze to our hands, still linkedtogether. “I think I’m gonna go prepare for my meeting tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
“Goodnight, Sebastian,” she said, pulling her hands from mine and moving quicklytoward the door.
“Night,Tabby,” I responded.
Asshe left the room, I grabbed the remote and stopped the music.
17
tabby
Ididn’t want tosay that I was avoidingSebastian. To avoid him would’ve been immature and pathetic.
ButI was avoiding Sebastian.
Hewoke up before me, much to my surprise, so I waited on the other side of mydoor until he went downstairs, before I stealthily tiptoed toward the bathroom door.Quietly closing it behind me before taking a quick shower and hurrying back tomy room.
Romancalled while I was curling my hair.
“Ms.Clarke,” he greeted me, with the sound of a smile framing his voice.
“Hello,Mr. Dolecki,” I replied in the same friendly, albeit professional, tone. “Howare you this morning?”
“Excellent.Looking forward to our meeting. I realize we probably should have arrangedthese details earlier in the week, but would you like me to send a car to pickyou up?”
“No,that’s all right.” I wrapped a section of my hair around the heated wand. “Iprefer to drive myself.”
“Awoman in control,” he mused with a throaty chuckle. “Does noon still work foryou?”
“Yes,”I nodded to myself in the mirror, releasing the now-tight curl and liftinganother section of hair. “That works perfectly.”
“Ihope you bring your appetite. Antonio’s is my favorite spot in the whole city.”
“Ilooked at their menu last night,” I fibbed.I was making out last night.I cringed. “They look delicious.”
“Theyare,” he agreed politely.
Wefinalized the details—he would get us a table, I would meet him at therestaurant—before hanging up just as I finished my curls. With a gentle rakingof a brush through my auburn hair, I loosened the strands to emphasized waves,pinned two front sections back, and froze it all in place with a shot ofhairspray.
Turningto grab my clothes from their garment bag laying on the bed, a heavy knock cameat the door and my guts tied into knots.
“Whois it?” I called in some effort to keep my voice light and without anxiety.
“I’llgive you one guess,” Sebastian spoke through the door, and to still a whimper Iwasn’t proud of, I clapped my hands over my face. “You don’t have to open thedoor. I just wanted to tell you there’s food downstairs if you’re hungry.”
Shakingmy head against my palms, I replied, “Nope. Not hungry.”
“Oh.Well. I kinda made a shitload of food, so …” The gentle tapping of fingersagainst the door echoed into the room.Go away, go away, please go away.“It’s fine. You don’t have to—”
