“Yeah,” I say, grabbing the fish in one hand and the tray of coffee and tea in the other hand. “Season’s started.” I walk into the lobby, and when the elevator door opens, I am so nervous. But the minute I knock on the door, I hear her heels clicking on the floor and then she swings open the door. Her hair flies with the wind of the door opening, and I know at that moment that I’m never going to let her go. That no matter how I have to fight, it’ll be worth it. I smile big at her, not even noticing that she looks like she’s going out. “Hey,” I say, walking in, and she closes the door behind me.

“Mark, this isn’t a good time,” she says, and I turn to look at her. She’s wearing black leather pants with a cream-colored turtleneck that is tucked in and leopard high-heel booties.

“You look nice. Were you going out?” I ask her and act like it’s not killing me, but it is.

“I am,” she says, and I can’t tell if she’s bluffing.

“Well, I won’t keep you long,” I tell her and then hand her the tray of coffee and tea. She walks over and grabs the tray from me. “Have a hot date?” I ask her, and she just walks down the corridor to the kitchen, the same kitchen we had sex in. She places the coffee on the counter and then turns to look at me.

“I have a date in twenty minutes, so you have five minutes,” she says, and she crosses her arms over her chest. I have to wonder if I’m doing all this for nothing.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Vivienne

My plan was to get all dressed up and look fabulous, then lie about a date, and it was going perfectly. Wearing my best pants shows all my curves, and the lace bra under my cashmere top pushed the girls up. It was almost like I was gearing up for war, and then the knock came on the door, and I braced myself. Except nothing could have prepared me for when I pulled opened the door and there he stood. Wearing blue jeans and a black jacket, his hair brushed back and you could see how he ran his fingers through it. But nothing got me more than him holding that fucking fishbowl.

I tried to make it seem like I didn’t care. I grab the tray of coffee and turn to walk down the corridor, not letting him see that my hands are shaking.

“I have a date in twenty minutes, so you have five minutes,” I tell him, putting the coffee on the counter and then crossing my arms.