The rational side of him told him to leave things alone and wait for her at the ball, which was only a week away. At the ball, he would pretend like the invitation and the coffee shop meeting were not connected. He knew she would call him out, but he hoped she would find it charming when he told her he really wanted to see her and had used the invitation as an excuse. It was really best to leave things alone lest he stir things up so much she caught on to who he was and flatly refused to honor his invitation.
As he sat in his expansive office overlooking all of Manhattan, he tried to give himself several reasons why staying away from her was the best thing, but he failed woefully. He needed her. Even if it was for just one lunch hour.
“Bev,” he called to his secretary via the intercom as he rose from his chair. “Please have David pull the car around in five minutes.”
“Yes, sir,” Bev, his secretary of ten years, answered. “Going to lunch?”
“Yes,” he said. “Please cancel all my meetings until two.”
“Should I make a reservation for you somewhere?” she asked. “Your favorite restaurant?”
“No. I think I’m in the mood for something local,” he said.
“Sure thing, sir,” Bev said, a hesitation to her voice.
He put on his jacket, which had been hanging on his chair, and right before he made it out of his office, he switched his Rolex for a simpler watch. Sara wasn’t impressed by wealth, which was why she hadn’t recognized him. The Rolex made him stand out too much, and with Sara, he didn’t need to stand out. He needed her to stand out. In less than a minute Nick was out of his office and walking toward Bev, a pretty blonde.
“You should take lunch soon,” he said to her, smiling as he passed her.
“Yes, sir,” she said. “Are you sure you don’t need a reservation for lunch?”
“Not today,” he said, waving at her as he got in the elevator. The poor woman was probably confused. He always had reservations for lunch. Some of the restaurants held standing reservations and some she had to call ahead right before he got there so they had his seat waiting.
But where he was going for lunch today needed no reservation. He was sure of it. When he got downstairs, David was standing next to the car, waiting to open the door of the limo for him.
“Where are we going, sir?” he asked.
“That coffee shop on the side corner of L and Penn Street,” he said.
“The one where Sara Nolles works?” David asked.
“Yes,” Nick answered. Typically, his business was his business. He did not share his business with his staff, but David had been with him too long to keep his affairs secret. David picked up his women and took them back. He had seen him go through a million relationships and witnessed them all fall apart.
“She’s nice,” David volunteered. “I think she’s a good choice, sir.”
“Yes, she is,” Nick said with a smile. “But I know she’s going to be a tough one.”
“Not for you, sir,” David answered, smiling.
Nick’s smile widened. David was right. He had never had difficulties getting women, and Sara Nolles was not going to be the first. He had to admit, though, there was something different about Sara, but he couldn’t quite figure it out yet. He just knew she was different – sharp-tongued, pretty, demanding, and ignorant of his status and how much money he had. It suited him just fine.
He closed his eyes as the limo drove through town, taking him closer to the girl of his dreams. She was passionate, that he could tell. Just the fire in her eyes alone was enough to tell him she would be a piece of work in bed, someone he might not be able to handle. A ball of fire. But he was open to challenges, and if Sara Nolles wanted a challenge, he would bring it.
They arrived at the coffee shop quickly, and he asked David to stay in the limo. No need to tip off Sara since she had already met David.
Nick entered the coffee shop. Normally he would have felt out of place, but he felt completely at home as his eyes scanned the room for Sara. She was nowhere to be found.
“Welcome to Pixies. How can I help you?” an elderly woman called out to him, drawing his attention to her. He walked up to her with a smile.
“Hello. What is your lunch special?” he asked.
“Combination fried chicken rice with some cabbage,” she said, pointing to a bowl of greasy food which Nick would never eat even if his life depended on it. He had to draw the line somewhere.
“Can I just get a sandwich please? A grilled chicken. Lettuce, tomatoes, mayo, and ketchup will be fine,” he ordered. No point in asking for organic stuff.