Page 10 of Meant For Love
Nash: I’ll be there in a minute. Do you want me to come up and get you?
I shake my head; you have to give it to him for persistence. He isn’t going to let up, which gives me stomach flutters and then scares the shit out of me.
Me: I’ll be waiting for you.
I smirk right before I send the next one.
Me: Downstairs in the lobby.
I press send and take one last look at myself before heading to the lobby. I’m wearing cream-colored shorts, but they are so flowy they look like a skirt, sitting mid-thigh, with a long-sleeved silk top that has a flower print all over it. The gold strappy chunky-heeled sandals complete the look. I thought about leaving my hair down, but it's a mess this morning after coming home last night and crashing after I took a shower. So I pinned it up in a ponytail and then curled the ends for a beachy look.
I grab my light green purse and the black bag that holds my computer before grabbing the key to the door and making my way down. I press the elevator button and wait for the doors to open. The minute I step in, I swear a cold shiver runs through me. I press L and wait for the doors to close. I look down at my feet as I wait for the doors to open, and the minute they do, I see him.
The glass door shows me that he’s parked right at the door. He’s standing out by the passenger door with his phone in his hand. I watch him as I walk to him, his black suit tailored to his body. A body that I know you can bounce a quarter off because he’s so fit, it’s mouthwatering. His white shirt shows you a bit of his throat, and his black hair looks like he just ran his hands through it. I swear if I wasn’t so stubborn about my rule of not getting involved with a client, I would walk up to him and grab him by his lapels and pull him to me while I shoved my tongue down his throat. I shake my head to get rid of the picture of making out with him at eight in the morning.
He must sense someone watches him because his head shoots up, and his smile comes out right away. He steps forward to open the door for me. “Good morning,” he greets cheerfully.
“Good morning,” I say, stepping out into the warm air.
“Did you find everything you needed?” he asks, and I stop beside the car to look at him.
“The condo was fully stocked.” I tilt my head to the side. “Right down to my favorite cookies and chips.”
“I just wanted you to feel like you’re home,” he says, and all I can do is shake my head in disbelief as he pulls open the passenger side door for me to get in. I slide into the seat and look over at him putting his hand on the roof of the car and leaning in. “I picked you up a matcha,” he tells me right before he closes the door.
I look over at the cupholder and see there are two cups there, one with a straw in it and the other with a cover. I turn in my seat, waiting for him to get in. “You got me matcha?”
“I did,” he confirms, reaching for his seat belt. “I got it iced and hot, not sure which you wanted.”
“Um,” I say baffled, “I can do either. Which one do you prefer?”
He starts the car. “Of matcha?” I nod. “I prefer it away from me and never in my mouth.”
I can’t help but put my head back and laugh. “It’s not that bad,” I say, picking up the hot one first. “It’s an acquired taste.”
“Yes, if your taste is eating grass,” he deadpans, his face making a grimace that my nieces and nephews do when they taste something that isn’t to their liking. “It’s so gross.”
“It’s delicious,” I assure him, taking a sip. “Mmm, so good.”
“Okay, if we are going to do the rules and shit,” Nash starts, pulling away from the building, “rule number one to you, no moaning in my vicinity.” My eyes open as I roll my lips. “That might be my only rule,” he continues. “No ‘oh, that’s so good. Oh, I like that. Oh, do that again, Nash.’” At the last one, I can’t help but laugh until my stomach hurts.
“Noted,” I return when he pulls into the parking lot. “I promise to never moan around you.”
“Unless,” he says, turning off the car, “you are okay with moaning my name, and then all your rules will be broken.”
“I am not,” I tell him, as if sitting across from him last night was easy. With him staring at me with his blue eyes and cocky grin, for once in my life, I wanted to say fuck all the rules and be like, let’s do this. I mean, I would never even think of doing this if Josh and I were solid. Maybe this is a sign that Josh isn’t the one for me. Maybe, just maybe, this is the sign I was looking for. I mean, not a sign I should get involved with Nash, but a sign Josh isn’t the one for me.
“Well, you’ll tell me if you change your mind?” Nash asks as he opens up his door.
“You’ll be the first one to know,” I assure him, putting my purse and black bag over my shoulder and getting out with both matchas in my hand.
“Here, give me one of those.” He holds out his hand, taking the hot cup from my hand. “Trust me, I’ll give it right back once we get into the office.”
I follow him to the glass door as he holds it open for me, and I step in. I see the receptionist smile when she sees it’s Nash. “Good morning again,” she tells Nash and then looks over at me. “You must be Zoey.” I smile at her. “I’m Lucille, but you can call me Lulu.”
“Nice to meet you, Lulu,” I say.
“This way.” Nash directs me as he walks to the right-hand side of the receptionist. “We can put your things down in the conference room, and then I can take you around and introduce you.”