EIGHT
Since she needed to contact me regarding the event, Alex now had my digits and I had hers.
Looking down at my cell phone, at the contact listing I’d created after she’d typed in her number, I smiled and hit to open a new message window.
How about I pick you up for the event?
I took it as a good sign when the bubbles immediately appeared in the text box telling me she was typing back. I had no patience for waiting when I was excited about something, so I was more than happy when her response came back right away.
In Queens?! Thanks but that’s crazy. I’ll meet you there.
To say I was disappointed was an understatement. Her elusiveness made me want to pick her up even more.
I’m fine with crazy. I’ll pick you up.
I sent her my reply, realizing that being in a relationship with a woman in Queens while I lived in Jersey was going to add a logistical challenge, but again, I loved a good challenge.
In a relationship. That train of thought made me pause.
What did I want from this thing with Alex?
I thought about it and about her. I could see us together even though I knew next to nothing about her. Not even her last name.
That had put a damper on any cyber research since I couldn’t even look her up on Instagram if I didn’t have her last name.
I’d already been through the Hamptons event website and hadn’t found her name on any list of guests or staff.
That did seem a bit odd since I would have thought they’d at least list the names of all the volunteers, but no Alexandra.
Since Zane’s assignment had given me a healthy dose of doubt and paranoia about who people were and were not at that event, I might have been suspicious of Alex after not seeing her name listed if I hadn’t seen her there, seated at the check-in table next to one of the event organizers.
She’d had her hands all over the tickets and the donor checks. They must trust her, so I should be able to trust her as well. If she were pretending to be someone she wasn’t, the organization was in more peril then I was.
I quickly dismissed any remaining shadow of suspicion and returned to my dilemma—getting to know more about my lovely escort for the evening. I couldn’t learn more about her online, so I’d have to do it the old fashioned way—in person on our date.
I liked this girl. I didn’t know if she was rich or poor, gainfully employed or not, and I didn’t care.
That I felt the strongest connection with her while we’d both been covered with jelly proved there was something there between us. Chemistry. Fate. Coincidence. Serendipity.
I didn’t know what. All I knew was that any woman who knew about the hidden gem that was Montauk Bake Shop, and appreciated it as much as I did, was a person worth getting to know better.
I’d been more interested in my conversation with Alex sitting on the bench on the sidewalk than I had with any of the party chatter.
She was the only person I’d really enjoyed speaking with while at an event teeming with the elite of the Hamptons charity party circuit.
Beauties and billionaires, both international and domestic, had been at that event and not one of them had inspired me to want to see them again except for Alex.
Even the visit to my family on my way home had shown me I was too far removed from the world of high society now to enjoy it for long.
Eyeball deep in my publishing companies, with a bit of Zane’s intrigue thrown in, I had next to nothing in common to discuss with my family who was completely wrapped up in Hamptons society. Our lives revolved around completely different things.
I was interested in speculating about Jeff Bezos’s next acquisition, while they were wondering who was selling or buying which properties. I was waiting for the next industry-changing announcement from Amazon and what it would mean to the state of publishing, and they were chatting about who’d gotten divorced recently.
It was painfully obvious that trying to be a working-class Hearst, as well as a Hearst trust-fund heir, was a two-sided coin and I was going to have to become adept at balancing both worlds.
I had a suspicion regarding which world Alex belonged to, even without knowing her last name or anything more about her, and that was fine with me.
Preferred actually.
If I was going to start a relationship, I wanted it to be grounded in the real world. I might still end up fodder for gossip, unavoidable given my last name, but I could deal with it with the right woman by my side.
I leaned back in my chair and realized I’d been making a lot of assumptions here. Alex might not be interested in anything more than getting me and my money to this next fundraiser. But somehow I didn’t think that was true.
I’d find out either way soon enough. Tonight, probably.
I heard the text alert and glanced down.
Stop! I’ll meet you inside the front door at 7:30. I have your ticket.
She still wasn’t going to let me drive her to the event.
Maybe there was something wrong with me that I always had to have my way. Perhaps my privileged upbringing was to blame. Whatever the case, I couldn’t let this thing go.
Leaning forward, I searched online for directions to the venue. Then expanded the map that came up in the search results to include bars and restaurants nearby.
If I couldn’t convince her to let me pick her up, the least I could do was buy her dinner.
I grabbed my cell and punched in another text.
How about we meet for dinner before the show?
The bubbles appeared again, right after I sent the text, just as I new they would.
You are persistent, aren’t you?
I smiled and typed in my reply.
It’s my best quality.
As expected, her reply was quick and sharp.
Not sure I agree but okay. When and where?
Victorious, I typed in the name and address of the restaurant I’d found online and a time.
She responded with a short but encouraging K and that was that. Dinner and a show—okay, a fundraising event that included a reading. Close enough to a show to make me believe this was definitely an official date.
Finally satisfied with the plans for the evening, I secured reservations for us, then got back to work. I had a long list of things to get through today and with the date with Alex on the horizon, no way was I working late tonight.