I am also giddy. Just absolutely fucking giddy.
Yeah, I’ve got to reel that in.
I remember Jessie telling me to protect my heart, and it wasexcellent and wise advice. I need to focus on that today because all I want to do is go have the best time ever with Marina. And possibly kiss her face off.
I didn’t call Jessie. I didn’t call anyone.
I didn’t want to be talked out of this date.
As I check out my reflection in the mirror, I know that may come back to bite me in the ass, but right now? I don’t care. It’s been three days since Marina met me in the park, apologized, and told me she wanted us to try. We’ve texted fairly regularly since then. I’ve had three days to decide this is a bad idea, or to change my mind, but if I’m being honest, backing out was never even a glimmer of a possibility, and I feel like I knew that the second I said yes to her.
I don’t know where she’s taking me, and that’s okay. If there’s only one thing to trust about Marina Troiani, it’s that she knows food. I’ve enjoyed thinking about her wandering the city, ducking into little holes in the wall to discover delicious foods. It’s her passion, and she followed it here. To me. That says something.
I check my look in the mirror. Simple black pants and a powder blue long-sleeve top with small silver buttons. A slight heel, because I don’t know how much walking tonight will entail. I check my makeup, add a little gloss to my lips, tuck my hair behind my ears. I tip my head as I scrutinize myself, then unfasten one more button—a little something to distract Marina a bit. I grin at my reflection. Okay. Not bad, if I do say so.
“What do you think?” I ask Reggie, who is in his usual spot of observation from my bed. He gives me a little snorfle sound that I take as approval. “Okay. Good.” I’m kissing his nose when my intercom buzzes. My doorman.
“Hey, Teddy,” I say into the speaker.
“Good evening, Miss Chambers. I believe your date is here to pick you up.”
Huh. Well, that’s interesting. Usually, Teddy will just say I have a visitor or I have a package or whatever.
“I’ll be right down,” I tell him. I look back at Reggie, who has followed me out of the bedroom. “My date is here.” He gives his tail a wag, then heads for his bed in the corner. “Don’t wait up, okay?” I gather up my purse and a coat, as it’s cooler today than it was a few days ago, lock the apartment behind me, and head for the elevator.
The entire elevator is mirrored, and it’s annoying me because I was confident three minutes ago in my own bedroom. Now? In this tiny box with the horrendously unflattering lighting? Ugh. Everywhere I look, there’s my reflection waiting for criticism.
I stare at my feet. The ride down to the lobby never felt so long.
Finally—finally—the elevator comes to a stop and the doors slide open. I step out and to my right toward the lobby where Teddy greets me from behind his desk. He grins at me—is his grin larger than normal?—and leads me to the front doors, which he pushes through, then holds open for me.
I thank him, look up at the street in front of me, and stop dead in my tracks.
Oh my God.
Chapter Nineteen
Marina is an absolute vision.
A gorgeous, sexy, fantastical vision in a black one-piece jumpsuit that makes her look even taller, even more sensual than she already is. Her hair is swept up, leaving her long neck exposed. Thin silver hoops sparkle in her ears, and some sexy locks of hair escaping from the updo corkscrew along her neck.
She’s standing next to a long, black limousine and talking to someone I assume is the driver, judging by his black suit and hat.
She glances over and catches sight of me, and I swear to God, her entire face lights up. It’s an amazing feeling, and I can’t remember the last time somebody looked that happy to see me.
“Bella,” she says in that accent, and she reaches out her hands to me. “You look stunning.”
“I look underdressed,” I say with a chuckle. “Because oh my God, look at you.Look at you.”
She blushes prettily, but her hands tighten on mine. “Nonsense. You’re dressed perfectly.” She bends to lightly kiss my cheek, then leads me by the hand to the limo. “This is Jacob, our driver for tonight.”
Jacob gives a nod, then opens the door for us and we climb in. It’s roomy and wonderful and there’s a bottle of Champagne chilling in an ice bucket. Jacob shuts us in, and Marina pours two glasses as he gets into the driver’s seat.
“Marina,” I say, waiting until I have her attention. “What is all this?”
She shrugs, and for the first time since I laid eyes on herseems to falter for just a second. “I wanted to take you to dinner in style.”
I don’t want to embarrass her, so I don’t ask her how expensive a limo in Manhattan must be, and she seems to read my mind.
