Lag (The boys of RDA #2)(63)
“Okay.”
“I didn’t ask.” He pushes away from the desk and walks to the office door. I roll my eyes to the ceiling in his direction once his back is turned.
“I saw that,” he calls back to me before the metal door separating the two rooms closes.
There’s no way he saw. Is there? My eyes catch on the large lobby clock and I swear into the emptiness at my lack of time before the work day ends and I’m faced with Trey and his plans for tonight.
**
“Right here.”
We stop at a little side entrance with a black sign above a simple glass door. It isn’t a place most tourists would look for, but as Trey pulls me through, he promises I’ll be impressed.
I step on the elevator and Trey leans over to hit the button for the nineteenth floor. I can’t decide if the silence between us is awkward or settled. Like when two people are comfortable enough to share a space together and not need to fill it with mindless chatter. Our relationship, or whatever is happening between Trey and me, has been pretty good since Saturday night. Besides brunch with the girls, we’ve been together every night after work. Somehow we became a couple. The real live couple I wished so hard for when we first met. It almost seems too good to be true.
Okay, so I might be putting the cart before the horse. It’s Wednesday after all, but I’ve spent four days in Trey bliss and I’m not planning to let go any time soon. I swipe a hand down my black pants to reduce any wrinkles from sitting on them all day as a way to busy myself.
“Stop. You look fine.” He reaches over and fluffs the shoulder of my light blue sweater. I hope I look dressed up enough for wherever we’re going. Trey, of course hasn't given me many details, but I at least match his level of dressiness.
The elevator dings and as the doors open, Trey reaches for my hand and we walk off together. My breath stalls at the sight once my eyes adjust and take in the area in front of us. The room is a large square and like most restaurants, there are smaller four-person tables placed throughout the space. Beyond that the exterior wall isn’t a wall at all, but rather large windows all spaced next to one another to maximize the open viewing area.
It’s a room of glass looking out high above the city, lit up for the evening. A hostess leads us to a table in front of the window to our right, but I don’t notice anything about her or those around us. The display’s spectacular and I can’t take my eyes away from the large skyscrapers and pointy pyramid-shaped Transamerica building outside our window. Trey pulls out my chair and I sit but don’t look in his direction until I turn my head to see what he laughs at.
Me apparently.
“It’s so beautiful all lit up.”
My nose finally picks up the smell of meat. I check out the food at the table next to us for a quick moment and then turn back to the view and a partial angle of Trey’s face. He takes the menu I didn’t realize I still had and sets them on the table.
“I had a feeling you’d like it.”
Our waitress, in a standard black uniform with her dark brown hair up in a tight bun, approaches our table. I reach for the menu I never took time to look at, but Trey stills my hand with his and then begins to spout off an order for us.
“Give us three Kobe sliders, an order of spring rolls, and a queso fondito.” He hands both menus to her. “With water and whatever Martini you think would be paired best."
I’d protest on principle alone, but I like the sound of everything Trey ordered, and it’s not like I looked at the menu. Rather than allowing him to see his over handedness might be growing on me, I go back to gazing at the view.
“How did you and Melvin get along today?”
Trey breaks the silence and I’m forced to remove my eyes from the window to answer him. My head flips so far to the side it rests on the top of my shoulder and my eyes narrow in his direction.
“He showed me a mole this afternoon and asked me to make him a dermatologist appointment.”
Rather than console me, he laughs. “He’s a remarkable programmer, Simone. Plus, he has no life and does nothing but work. He’s perfect."
Yes, truly, I can’t imagine why he isn’t married with ten kids. “I’m pretty sure it was a pimple, Trey.” My sarcastic thought bleeds into my comeback and makes me sound like I’m joking, but I’m not.
He reaches across our small square table and grabs my hand, locking it together with his. An elbow rests on the surface as he slides his upper body closer and meets my eyes drawing me into his depths. I brace for one of his classically sweet Trey moments.
“He’ll grow on you.”
“Seriously?” I roll my eyes at him and try to pull my hand back, but he holds on and places his over mine on the table surface.
“Well isn’t this sweet.” I stiffen at the intrusion and Trey grasps my hand tighter.
As if choreographed, Trey and I both turn our heads in unison to Mari standing less than a foot away from our table. I try to remove my hand from under Trey’s, but he increases his grip until it almost hurts.
Mari stares down at us, her lips in a twisted snarl, an angry businesswoman in her black suit jacket and pencil skirt. The yellow blouse she’s paired it with doesn’t do her hair color justice. She’s prim and proper while I come off looking short and meek in my chair. I haven’t worn a business suit since I left Lowry, Lowry, and Fink. I’d been enjoying my new ability to be laid back… well at least until this moment. Now Mari’s here in all her armor and I’m fighting a dragon with nothing on my side but a Calvin Klein sweater.