“I can’t stay long. We technically don’t get breaks while we're working, especially on the weekends, when we’re never slow.” She looks around, and I track each movement, noticing that a lot of tables are sitting empty.
“I’ll take what I can get.” A flush dots her cheeks, and a shy smile is tossed my way.
“So, this is kind of awkward, sorry.” Letty looks down at the wooden table, swirling her finger in the condensation left over from our drinks. A curlicue here, a heart there, and what looks like a leaf.
“You have nothing to be sorry about. I won’t keep you if you need to get back to work, or we can have a conversation.” I’m tempted to reach out, cup her hand with mine, and entwine our fingers. The more I’m around her, the more I’m learning about her. While she’s usually quiet in the penthouse, in the public eye, she’s even more so.
“About what?” She licks her lips, rolling them in a way that she thinks is innocent, but when it comes to the bombshell in front of me, it’s anything but.
“You tell me. I’ve got nothing that’s off-limits.” I’d much rather she led and I’ll follow this time. Once I have her in my bed, that’s a whole other story entirely.
“Okay, I’ll go first. What’s your favorite meal?” Letty starts off with the easy questions, so I settle in and go with the flow.
“That’s easy. Anything you make. Whatever you cooked the other day, I could eat that three times a week. Seriously. Steak, potatoes, and a salad work for me for dinner. Lunch is whatever I can grab. Breakfast is coffee and a protein shake, though. What about yours?” A look of shock crosses her face with my answer.
“Wow, my cooking, really?” I give a slight nod, and she continues, “Well, while you clearly like dinner-type meals. I’m definitely more of a sandwich type of person with either soup or a salad, depending on the time of year. My mom, well, we didn’t have a lot for a long time, so shelearned to stretch a lot of meals.” She shrugs her shoulders.
“Make something you like next week, please,” I say in response. I’m not going to dig deep and question where her mom is now.
“I can do that. Alright, next question. Favorite color?” She goes with another easy one.
“Blue.” I nod for her to tell me her response as well.
“Red, but not the barn door red, like a deep red. It’s hard to explain, and I don’t see one similar anywhere. Dang.” I let out a chuckle.
“I’ll take a stab at this. You’ve mentioned before you’re saving up money for school. What route are you going for?” I’d love nothing more than to ask her a million and one questions, especially about her past, but I know when to wait a person out. While I might be a real estate attorney now, there was a time when I did a fuck of a lot more. I could pull things out of the toughest of people. With Letty, that’s the last thing I want to do. I’d much rather have her willingly let her past out, to trust me, and to come to me when she needs me.
“Teaching. I’m actually halfway through with my credits. Life happened, like it usually does for most people. Then I had to move when my mom passed away, and I’ve been working to save money ever since.” She lets out a shaky breath, almost as if she’s said too much, when in fact, she hasn’t said nearly enough.
“You’ll get there. Though, I gotta say, if you ever change your mind, you’d be a hell of a chef.” I’m rewarded with a tip of her lips, causing me to do the same, and when she relaxesenough, I get the real smile. And goddamn, does it light something up inside of me.
“Thank you. Working here helps. What about you? Did you always know being an attorney was in your cards?” Can’t blame her for asking me about myself when I’ve been doing the same to her.
“Yeah. Didn’t think I’d go the real estate way at first. I figured criminal law would be where I’d find myself. Then I did a few internships, had second thoughts, which led to family law. Talk about depressing. It was then I settled into real estate law about ten years ago. I’ll dabble in other areas as needed, but on a day-to-day basis, that is what I do.”
“I don’t think I could work in either of those. Honestly, law of any kind doesn’t really appeal to me, which is wild because one day, when I become a teacher, I’m sure I’ll be doing nothing but wading through red tape mixed with some massive rules. It’ll be worth it, though.” Letty continues to doodle while maintaining eye contact with me or looking around to see if any of her tables need anything.
“How’s that saying go, as long as you’re happy. I give you big kudos. Teaching is a labor of love, one that doesn’t get the recognition and praise it deserves, and it damn sure doesn’t pay enough.” She shrugs her shoulders, probably well aware of the financial aspect, like many others are.
“Money doesn’t buy happiness. It usually brings more problems than you’ve ever had before.” Well, fuck me running, she drops another morsel of information about herself inadvertently.
“You’re not wrong about that,” I reply, taking another sip of my water.
“My turn. Which is your favorite thing to do while winding down, watching television or reading? The reading can include audiobooks.” I chuckle at her audio part. There have been countless times I’ve walked into the penthouse and heard voices coming through her phone or glanced down at her phone while she had headphones on, listening to a romance book.
“Reading, though usually, it’s contracts. On the rare occasion I’ll get to read for leisure, it’s not often, though. You?” I play dumb.
“Same, books or audiobooks, or a magazine. It depends on what I can get my hands on, either through the brick-and-mortar library or the apps on my phone.” This time, I’m not surprised. I pretty much knew the answer to begin with. Still, it’s nice to hear her talk in the soft tone of her voice, and when she becomes passionate about the subject, well, it shines through with each syllable. Her hands also become animated, and now I don’t want to let her leave the table. “Shit, I’m sorry I have to cut this short, but someone was just seated in my area.” Letty goes to stand up, but my hand moves to hers instead, holding it for a moment while watching how she reacts to our skin touching.
“Thanks for sitting with me. What’s your number? Maybe we can keep this up when we both have time.” I pull my phone out with my unoccupied hand and slide it over to her. It’s already unlocked from facial recognition, and a few clicks brings up the call log.
“Oh, uh, sure. I guess that’s okay,” she stammers for a moment, then enters her phone number, hits the call button, and lets it ring a few times before ending the call.
“I’ll talk to you later.” It’s a promise, one I’ll keep. I watch as Letty takes the bill folder and moves to leave.
“I’ll be right back with this. Let me get my guests settled?” I nod in response, and then she’s off. My eyes linger on her, watching as she moves with a gracefulness most women could only hope to have. I place my wallet on the table and go through the cash I have, keeping in mind that tips in the green variety are better than putting it on a receipt. It means less of a cut that Twisted Oak can take. This way, Letty can put more in her pocket. She interacts with her four top, the party looks like it consists of two parents and two children. Letty talks more with the kids than the parents, gathering their drink orders before slipping away. I lose sight of her for a few minutes before she’s back again.
“Here you go. Thanks again, Matthew. It was really nice talking with you.”
