Breathe In (Just Breathe, #1)(66)
“Henry’s being weird,” I complain.
“How so?”
“He won’t tell me anything about Hawaii,” I assert.
“What do you want to know?”
“My part of the bill.”
“Good luck with that,” he chuckles.
“You know something. Don’t you?” I accuse.
“Maybe,” he taunts.
“Spill it,” I command.
“Even if I know something, I wouldn’t tell.”
“Why not?”
Maybe I can persuade him.
“Why do you need to know so badly?”
“Because I don’t like surprises.”
I’ve never liked surprises.
“I am a man of my word,” he goads.
“What do you want?”
Let’s see what the bargaining options are with him.
“You sound a little desperate,” he alleges. “Maybe I could be persuaded for a fee.”
“Like I said, What do you want?”
The fish has definitely taken the bait.
“How desperate are you?”
“Depends,” I begin. “What do you think is an equal exchange?”
“Hmmm . . .” he ponders.
I know he’s deliberately stalling.
“A date.”
“No.”
He knows I don’t date.
“It’s just one date.”
“I don’t date and you know it,” I softly contend.
“There’s a difference between dating and a date,” he points out.
“I know the difference.”
“Good. Then it’ll be easy for you. You. Me. Dinner. Tonight,” he directs.
“This is not a fair exchange and you know it.”
“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. But you’ll have what you want. Even if it’s just part of the picture. I know you want it,” he coaxes.
“What’s expected on the date?”
I should at least know all of the terms.
He pauses, probably for some kind of dramatic effect. “Like I said, You. Me. Dinner. Tonight.”
“Anything else?” I check.
A wickedly, erotic tone that I’ve never heard before from Joe is let out with his next statement. “What did you have in mind?”
My throat dries and my thighs moisten at his voice. “Nothing. Get your mind out of the gutter.”
If he thinks this is an opportunity to making out or have sex, he’s wrong. This date shouldn’t be an issue. We’ve had meals before together, some of which he paid for and some of which I have. So what’s the whole thing with calling it a date?
After mulling it over, I agree, “Fine. What time do you want to meet and where?”
“I’ll pick you up at your place at six,” he instructs.
“No.”
“Yes,” he insists. “If you want to find anything out, you won’t argue with me. Besides, it’s customary to pick the woman up at her place.”
“Fine,” I whine.
“Make sure you wear a dress.”
“What? Why do I need to wear a dress?”
“Do you want the information or not?”
“Okay. I’ll wear a dress.”
“See you in a few hours, beautiful,” he hums.
I don’t answer and just hang up the phone.
What have I gotten myself into? The thought that no good will come of this is creeping into the pit of my stomach. Crap.
An hour before my meeting with Joe, Sadie is already fed and walked and I’m standing in my walk-in closet trying to decide on what to wear. What kind of dress? Causal? Dressy? Ten minutes of staring into my closet produces only more anxiety on the subject of proper attire.
Maybe I should just cancel. I don’t really need to know that badly. Do I? Yes I do. I like control — I need control.
Not wanting to waste anymore time, I jump in the shower. I wash my hair and body and shave. Why did I just shave? I don’t plan on having sex. There will be no sex happening tonight, but I do decide to pleasure myself to reduce my edginess.
I choose what to wear while putting on my makeup; something cute and comfortable. With my hair almost dry, I put on a smoked pearl colored cocktail dress that is embellished with metallic lace, has one inch straps that contour into a deep v-neck just between my breasts that hugs my upper body and loosens slightly two inches above my knees. I adorn my neck with my happiness necklace from Energy Muse that is made of a thirty inch, solid gold chain with a pendant consisting of quartz crystal, kyanite and moonstone. After giving my hair one final toss and brush, I put on solid gold earrings. To finish my outfit, I put on my light bronze, four inch strappy Jimmy Choo heels.
Just as my second shoe slips on, I get a text from Joe letting me know that he has arrived. Like clockwork, Joe is early, fifteen minutes early to be exact. Grabbing my clutch, I kiss Sadie goodnight.
Rounding the corner of the internal gate to my apartment complex, I find Joe waiting, wearing a medium grey colored suit with a crisp white dress shirt underneath that has the two top buttons undone. Joe is a man that can make any suit look good — actually, he can make any outfit look good. I feel a spark of heat and moisture between my thighs at the sight of him.