The Absence of Olivia(72)
“This is the next step in your career, Evelyn. And it’s a big step. You’ve got enough money to take your business to the next level, and you’ve got jobs now lined up for months that are going to pay you really well.” She paused and looked at me for a moment, a thoughtful expression across her face. “All the hard work you’ve done since you got here is paying off. You did it.”
“I did it.” My voice was wistful and unbelieving. For one moment, I forgot about the man waiting for me back at my house.
“So, what happened with you and that ridiculously handsome man you left with last night?”
“He’s an old friend,” I said, trying to avoid talking about him because I had no idea what I was supposed to say. I couldn’t very well tell her that, aside from Devon, he’d been the only man in almost a decade to turn me inside out.
Then, a smile spread over my face when I realized that thinking about Devon no longer turned me inside out. In fact, the only thing I felt when I thought of him was fondness. I let out a breath, glad to have confirmation that moving to LA, changing my life, and going in a totally random yet wonderful direction had been the best decision I’d ever made.
“We went out on one date a few years ago.” I decided to elaborate, and took great pleasure in the fact that just the one sentence about Nate brought on the butterflies. “But I wasn’t in the right mindset to start dating someone. When I left to come to LA, I lost touch with him.”
“So,” Sylvia started, a confused look on her face, “how did he know about your show last night?”
I shrugged. “He said he saw it on my website.”
Her eyes went wide.
“He’s been cyberstalking you?”
“He’s not stalking me,” I said, defending him. “He’s not a creeper.”
“No, that’s not what I meant. I just meant he’s been investigating. Gathering information. It’s cute when guys do that. Unless they’re creepers.”
I nodded, looking at the clock, and then realized I’d been looking at the clock often. It was quite a while still until five o’clock.
“So, you didn’t know he was coming to the show?”
“No. I hadn’t spoken with him since before I left. I came to LA and changed my phone number. It was a complete surprise.”
“A good surprise?” Her voice sparkled exactly like the smile on her face. Her eyebrows were high, as were the corners of her mouth.
“I’m not sure yet, but I’m hoping so.” That was, possibly, the most honest sentence I’d uttered all day. I shook my head, trying to break apart all the thoughts of Nate flooding my brain. I had work to do. “Let’s get back to work. I’ll keep returning phone calls, if you can work through my email.”
“Done. I’ll step out in about an hour to get you lunch.”
“You know what, Sylvia? I think I’ll go out myself. I need to make a stop somewhere.”
“Okay,” she said, her voice knowing and singsong.
Three hours later, I found myself inside Agent Provocateur, thinking perhaps I was in over my head. I didn’t know for sure what was going to happen that evening between Nate and me, but I knew what I wanted to happen. I knew it involved removing clothing. I also knew I hadn’t purchased new lingerie in years. This occasion definitely called for something black, lacy, and new.
I’d found the perfect set, something I would feel comfortable wearing under my clothes. It was simple and classic. Almost innocent. If lingerie could be innocent and sexy at the same time, that’s what I bought. I also found myself, thinking about the enormous paycheck coming my way, purchasing a week’s worth of new panties. Some innocent, some not. But simply knowing I had them made me feel more feminine than I had in a long time.
On the drive home that evening, my heartbeat thrummed through my veins and my belly flipped with the thought of going out to dinner with Nate.
His car was still parked at the curb in front of my house, but all the curtains were closed. I opened the door and walked in, my breath caught, eyes wide.
Votive candles were placed randomly throughout the bottom floor, casting a romantic light throughout the house. Soft music was playing, but it was wordless, beautiful piano pieces. I walked slowly through the house, wondering where I would find Nate, my heart pounding. I found him standing at the stove, cooking. His back was to me, and I wasn’t sure he knew I was there, so I took a moment to drink him in.
He had on jeans that clung to every curve of his thighs and ass, leading down to what appeared to be cowboy boots. His black shirt had long sleeves, but they were rolled up, allowing me to see his forearm working as he stirred whatever was making my house smell delicious. His dark hair was barely dusting over the collar of his shirt and I was a little upset I couldn’t see a bit of skin there.
“I can feel your eyes on me, Lyn.”
His voice startled me, and heat spread over my cheeks with the realization I’d been caught. He obviously liked it though; he let me stand there and ogle him for a good half minute before interrupting me.
“It’s not every day I come home to a handsome man cooking in my kitchen.”
He turned his head to look at me, his brown eyes captivating against the black of his shirt. Then I noticed his shirt was a button-up, and it was tucked in. He was dressed up. He looked fresh, all but for the stubble on his chin, which I never wanted to see him without. In fact, I wanted to feel it up against my skin: on my fingers, my mouth, my thighs.