Wallbanger(33)

“Wel , clearly I am headed somewhere very fancy.” I gestured to my yoga pants and cami. I then showed him my water bottle and yoga mat.

He pretended to think very careful y, and then his eyes widened. “You’re going to pottery class!”

“Yes, that’s where I’m headed…ass.”

He grinned that grin at me. I smiled back.

“So you never gave me the scoop on what you heard at brunch the other day. What’s going on with our friends?” he asked, and I didn’t at all

feel a flutter in my bel y at the mention of the word our. Not at al …

“Wel , I can tel you that my girls were quite taken with your boys. Did you know they’re al going to the symphony benefit next week?” I said,

instantly horrified that I went there that quickly.

“I heard that. Neil gets tickets every year. Perks of the job, I suppose. Sportscasters always go to the symphony, right?”

“I would assume, especial y when one is trying to cultivate a certain man-about-town persona,” I added with a wink.

“You caught that, huh?” He winked back, and we found ourselves smiling again. Friends? Definitely a stronger possibility.

“We’l have to compare notes afterward, see how the Fantastic Four are doing. Did you know they’ve been going out on double dates al

week?” I said. Sophia had confided that they’d been going out constantly, but always as a foursome. Hmm…

“I did hear something about that. They al seem to be getting along wel . That’s good, right?”

“It’s good, yes. I’m actual y going out with them next week. You should come along,” I tossed out casual y. It’s all for the truce, just the truce…

“Oh, wow. I’d love to, but I’m heading overseas. Leaving tomorrow, actual y,” he said.

If I didn’t know better, I’d say he almost looked disappointed.

“Real y? On a shoot?” I said, and realized my mistake. That knowing smirk came back with a vengeance.

“A shoot? Checking up on me?”

I felt my face go from pink to a lovely tomato red. “Jil ian mentioned what you do for a living, yes. And I noticed the pictures in your apartment.

When my pussy was chasing your Russian? Ring any bel s?”

He seemed to shift his weight a little at my choice of words. Hmmm, weak spot?

“You noticed my pictures?” he asked.

“I did. You’ve got a great set of sconces.” I smiled sweetly and looked directly at his crotch.

“Sconces?” he mumbled, clearing his throat.

“Occupational hazard. So where are you headed, anyway? Overseas, I mean.” I dragged my eyes deliberately back up to his, and noticed his

were nowhere near my face. Heh, heh, heh…

“What? Oh, um, Ireland. Shooting a bunch of coastal spots for Condé Nast, and then going into some of the smal er towns,” he answered,

bringing his gaze back to mine.

It was nice to see him a bit flustered. “Ireland, nice. Wel , bring me back a sweater.”

“Sweater, got it. Anything else?”

“A pot of gold? And a shamrock?”



“Great. I won’t have to leave the airport gift shop,” he muttered.

“And then when you come home, I’l do a little Irish dance for you!” I cried and started laughing at the lunacy of this conversation.

“Aw, Nightie Girl, did you just offer to dance for me?” he said in a low voice, stepping a little closer.

And just like that, the balance of power shifted.

“Simon, Simon, Simon,” I exhaled, shaking my head. Mainly to clear it from the effect of him being so near. “We’ve been over this. I have no

desire to join the harem.”

“What makes you think I’d ask you?”

“What makes you think you wouldn’t? Besides, I think that would mess with the truce, don’t you?” I laughed.

“Mmm, the truce,” he said.

Just then I heard steps on the stairs below. “Simon? Is that you?” a voice cal ed up.

At that he leaned back, away from me. I looked down and realized we’d been inching toward each other on the landing throughout our

exchange.

“Hey, Katie, up here!” he cal ed down.

“A haremette? I’l watch my wal s tonight,” I said softly.

“Stop it. She had a hard day at work, and we’re heading out to a movie. That’s it.”

He smiled sheepishly at me, and I laughed. If we were going to be friends, I might as wel meet the harem, by God.

A moment later we were joined by Katie, who I, of course, knew as Spanx. I muffled a laugh as I smiled at her.

“Katie, this is my neighbor, Caroline,” Simon said. “Caroline, this is Katie.”