Stepping out of my apartment on the way to work, I noticed a black Town Car parked out front. My heart jumped. Dex had broken his promise not to see me, and I couldn’t say I was disappointed.
The driver got out and came around.
He nodded. “Ms. George.”
I waited for the window to roll down or for Dex to emerge but neither happened.
“Where is Dex?”
“Mr. Truitt instructed me to be at your disposal this week.”
“He’s not here?”
“No. He would like me to safely see you to your destination.”
“Oh. Um…okay. Thank you.”
He opened the back door and let me in. After giving him the address to my building, I immediately picked up the phone.
Dex answered, “Bianca.”
The sound of his deep, soothing voice gave me shivers.
“What are you doing?”
“It’s more comfortable than the back of my tandem bike, isn’t it?”
“Jay’s bike, yes.” I shook my head. “I can only imagine how fast you had to work to make the bicycle thing happen that day, by the way.”
“Let’s just say I was highly motivated.”
“What’s with the chauffeur service?”
“I thought you’d like a break from dangerous taxis. And I was looking for a change of pace. I’ve been cabbing it to work. Sam is at your beck and call all week.”
“It’s really not necessary.”
“I know that. But if I can’t be with you, at least I know you’re safe and sound in good hands.”
“I can’t use it tonight,” I said.
How exactly was I supposed to tell him that I’d accepted a date with a co-worker?
One of the editors at work, Eamon Carpenter, had asked me out. The word “no” had been at the tip of my tongue until I realized that it might benefit me to go out with someone other than Dex. I’d be breaking my own self-imposed rule not to get involved with men I worked with, but it would be a test as to just how deep into Dex my heart really was. We weren’t exclusive, so I was able to justify it. I absolutely knew that I wasn’t going to let things get to a physical level with Eamon, in any case. So, I figured there was really no harm.
I felt compelled to be honest with him.
“I’m going on a date tonight. I don’t feel right taking your car.”
There was nothing but dead silence on the other end of the line. I swore he’d hung up.
“Are you there?”
“Yes.” He began to trip over his words. “I’m just a little stunned, to be honest. I haven’t been…I mean, I…”
“You haven’t been what?”
“I haven’t been seeing anyone. I just assumed…”
He was having trouble saying it.
“You assumed that I wouldn’t date anyone during this break?”
“I guess I was just hopeful.” More silence before he asked, “Where is he taking you?”
“Bistro Nine.” I sighed. “It’s nothing serious, Dex. I don’t plan to let him…do anything.”
His breathing became heavier.
“Are you okay?”
“I have to go,” he abruptly said.
“Alright, I—” He’d hung up before I had a chance to say anything further.
Later, when I arrived at the office, there was a package sitting on my desk. Upon opening it, I realized it contained the photos from Joel’s shoot at Dex’s house. Dex was supposed to have chosen his favorites to be used for the article. From the ones that he vetted, I would choose three or four images.
The first couple of shots were of Dex in front of his window overlooking the park. I marveled at his beauty: his lustrous black hair, his tall stature, his impeccable clothes, his big, masculine hands. In one of the pictures, he reminded me of a more handsome version of James Bond as played by Pierce Brosnan, but with more facial hair.
There were two more shots featuring him in front of his fireplace. The next couple of photos were from the ones he’d shot of him and Bandit on the couch.
My heart clenched. The last one was framed and had a note on it. Mr. Truitt wanted you to have this. It’s not for the article.
It was the photo of Dex, me, and Bandit, the one where the dog had a paw on each of us. It was making me emotional. He’d clearly sent this over before our conversation this morning. Guilt set in.
Damn you, Dex.
The reality was that I didn’t want to go on this date with Eamon. I was forcing myself to do it to prove that I still had the capability to connect with someone else in the event that my heart was to be destroyed by Mister Moneybags. It was a self-protective mechanism. Deep down, I knew that…but Dex didn’t.
I was sure Eamon could tell I was preoccupied. I kept checking my phone to see if Dex had texted. He hadn’t said a word since my date revelation this morning, and it made me wonder if I’d royally screwed things up.
I mentally scolded myself for obsessing over Dex while on a date with another man.
Trying to make conversation to move my mind into a different place, I said, “What’s new on your end at the magazine? What’s the next project?”
“I’m setting up an interview with Harry Angelini of Markel Corporation next week. But honestly, your exclusive with Truitt is all anyone seems to be talking about.”
Great. So much for getting my mind off him.
“Yes. It went really well.”
“I haven’t had a chance to read the first draft, but people keep saying how thorough it is, as if you’d spent months with him.”
“It was…an ongoing format.” I cleared my throat. “I found that to be better than rushing it.”
“I think you might have something there.”
The waiter came by with a small plate. “Some dessert for you.”
“We didn’t order dessert.”
“Yes. Well, actually, it was courtesy of someone who called in and wanted you to have it.”
When I looked down at the plate, I nearly gasped. Sitting atop a drizzle of caramel were two gigantic chocolate balls.
“What is this?”
“It’s tartufo. Ice cream balls.”
Balls.
My face felt flush. Dexter. It had to be.
“Okay. Thank you.”
“What was that all about?” Eamon asked.
“I’m not sure,” I lied. “Will you excuse me? I have to use the bathroom. Please start on the dessert without me.”
Once in the stall, I texted him.
Bianca: Are the ice cream balls from you?
Three dots immediately appeared on the screen.
Dex: Yes. Enjoy them.
Bianca: You really shouldn’t have.
Dex: Well, I know you like balls. And I wanted to apologize for my strange behavior this morning. You have every right to see whomever you want.
Bianca: Thank you, but no need to apologize. Your reaction was understandable.
Dex: I’ve instructed Sam to wait outside of the restaurant in the event that you need a ride. If he’s not parked, he’ll be circling around the block. I’m not using him tonight anyway. If you decide not to take advantage of the ride, that’s fine. But he’s there if you need him.
Bianca: That’s very nice of you. Thank you. What are you doing tonight that you don’t need a car?
Dex: I’ve decided to stay in.
Bianca: Okay. Well, have a good evening.
Dex: You too.
His sudden change of attitude seemed weird. I almost wondered if he was practicing reverse psychology, although I would never really know for sure.
When I returned to the table, Eamon had devoured his ball and paid the bill.
“Was it good?” I asked.
He licked his lips. “It was great.”
A few minutes later, I looked down at the time and said, “This has been really fun. But I have to be up early in the morning, so I think I’m going to head home if that’s okay.”
“Can we share a cab?”
“Actually, I have to stop somewhere on the way back, so I’m going to just head out alone.”
“Okay, sure.”
He seemed very disappointed, but truly, it was better not to lead him on. I really shouldn’t have gone on the date in the first place if my heart wasn’t in it.
I told Eamon I needed to stop back in the bathroom on the way out, so that he would exit the restaurant first.
Once outside, sure enough, I noticed the Town Car parked across the street.
I waved. “Hello, Sam.”
“Good evening, Ms. George,” he said as he opened the door for me.
I nearly had a heart attack when I saw who was in the backseat.
At first, I thought it was Dex. But no. It was the Liza Minnelli statue. Sinking back into the leather seat, I began to laugh hysterically.
“Sorry about that, Miss. He made me do it,” I heard Sam say. “Where to?”
Where was I going?
There was only one place I wanted to go tonight.
“Mr. Truitt’s place, please.”