Vanilla On Top(8)
“True.” Marcus examines his suit for signs of disorderliness, brushing off lint no one can see but him.
“So,” I begin casually as we make our way to the door, hoping his full stomach will prevent him from making unfounded leaps. “What did you think of last night’s speed dating event?”
A snort sounds from behind me. “Two ladies selected me for a follow-up date. Not bad. How about you?”
I refrain from telling him all of the ladies I sat with before Heather requested a follow-up date with me. After Heather’s table, there was no one else I cared to meet. “I had a good time.”
“Really? You bugged out early, if I recall correctly.”
The warming spring air hits us as we step onto the sidewalk, bringing with it the hint of cigarette smoke, reminding me of the lingering scent on last night’s patio. My cock lurches painfully in my pants as the smell triggers thoughts of the black haired temptress. “Did you sit with a woman named Heather?” The question slips out before I recall her teasingly asking me about my sandy-haired friend.
“No.” He quickens his pace as we negotiate through the bustle of people, a leer creasing his face. “Is she the reason you left early?”
Crap. I should have picked my question more carefully. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?” He laughs and slaps me on the back. “What the hell does that mean?”
Heat flushes my face and I’m reluctant to say more about the slender beauty, not willing to share our encounter with him or anyone else just yet. “I talked to her, but she didn’t mark me down on her clipboard for a follow up.”
“You asked me in case she wrote down my name, is that it?” Marcus’s guffaws increase in volume as we cross the street to Rockefeller Center. We dodge a taxi and a bike messenger before making it to the curb. I push through the glass door of our building, hoping to escape his humor. His voice follows me, unrepentant in its joy. “Maybe for a change of pace, a girl might have picked me over the infamous ‘Strut’? The horror!”
I ignore him and his reference to my old college nickname, pausing my advance through the lobby for a group making their way to the elevators. A glance at my watch reveals it’s a few minutes past one, leaving very little time for the long ride upstairs to make my conference call. “Forget I said anything. I hoped you could help me find her.”
“You raising a finger to find a woman? Now that’s a first.”
My anger gets the best of me as I try to make my way around the crowd. “Can it, asshole.” If we weren’t on the fortieth floor, I’d take the damn stairs. Marcus passes me, his laughter ringing out, as he weaves toward the coffee shop in the lobby and his afternoon caffeine fix. He works his way through the milling throngs to stand in line while I sift slowly through the bodies toward the elevator banks.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of sleek, long, black hair spilling down the back of a slender woman in spiked heels. I stop cold, turning to stare at the woman handing her money to the coffee barista. Is that Heather? In the lobby of my own building?
The woman turns to face me, a smile curving her lips as she sniffs the aromatic steam rising from her to-go lid. Holy shit, it is her! I change course and angle my way toward her, no longer caring if I’m late for my call.
She’s wearing a shorter skirt today, one that ends above her knees, and a crisp white blouse with ruffles running down the front. All she needs is glasses and she’d look like the sexiest teacher on the face of the earth.
The noise and bustle of the lunch-hour crowd fades away. My vision narrows to the clean, simple look of the woman crossing the open area. No one would suspect the passion lurking beneath her calm exterior, and blood pumps toward my groin thinking about it. I step purposefully into her path and zero in on her eyes, waiting for the moment she recognizes me.
Heather hesitates in her step and an expression I can’t read clouds her face for a split second. It’s soon replaced by a sultry smile that burns me all the way to my toes.
“Hi,” I say. Oh yeah, that sounds suave and sure of myself.
Her dark-as-sin eyes narrow a little as she examines me from head to toe, making me feel like she’s checking out a side of beef and deciding on whether to buy it. “Well, well, who do we have here?” She stops in front of me, jutting a hip to the side, no longer looking like a teacher, but more like a woman completely aware of her sex appeal. “I’m surprised to see you, Tony.”
Marcus looks in our direction, his stare a little too assessing for my taste. His knowledgeable gaze meets mine with a slight snigger of humor tilting his mouth. “I…uhh…” A lump forms in my throat as a man walking behind Heather checks out her ass and legs, almost running into someone during his distraction.