Catch - Deborah Bladon Page 0,36
grandfather both succumbed to the disease, so this clusterfuck has turned itself around in the best way possible.
My phone buzzes in my jacket pocket, so I yank it out.
I glance at the screen.
Berk: Do u like pink unicorns or blue ones???!!!
I scrub at my forehead. “What the fuck?”
I type out a response.
Keats: Where’s your dad?
Berk: Doing dishes!! I’m hiding!!!!
I read that and then try to decipher the string of random emojis that follows.
Keats: Put the phone down, Stevie.
My phone rings.
I laugh as I answer. “Your dad is not going to be happy.”
“Ever?” she screams into the phone. “If he had someone to kiss, he’d be happy.”
I close my eyes. I want him happy too. I don’t know if a woman is the key to that or time.
“Where are you?” she questions. “I need to see Dudley.”
“Need or want?” I glance at the front of Maren’s building.
“Both,” she screeches. “Bring him over.”
“I will soon,” I answer. “I’ll talk to Maren and set something up.”
“What color is her hair?”
I laugh. “Why?”
“Tell me.”
“Red.”
She squeals. “I want red hair.”
“Stevie?” I hear Berk’s voice bellowing in the distance. “Who are you talking to?”
“Keats,” she yells into the phone. “He said I could have red hair.”
I chuckle. “I didn’t.”
“You’ll say yes if I ask,” she retorts.
“No,” I answer succinctly. “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world exactly the way you are.”
A tap on my shoulder turns me around in an instant. I come face-to-face with my assistant. Dudley is on a leash at her feet.
Maren’s gaze narrows as she looks at my face. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”
Disappointment or maybe frustration swims in Maren’s eyes. She heard me. She fucking heard me tell Stevie she’s beautiful, but she doesn’t know I’m talking to my niece.
“I need to go,” I say into the phone.
“I love you more than unicorns,” Stevie whispers.
It catches my breath because I don’t hear it that often. I bite my bottom lip before I reply, “I love you too, Stevie. Goodnight.”
***
Maren smiles. “You were talking to your niece?”
Shoving my phone into the inner pocket of my jacket, I laugh. “She had a unicorn question.”
She half-laughs. “Unicorn?”
“Do you like blue or pink unicorns?” I scrunch my nose feeling the familiar itch that comes whenever I’m within a foot of Dudley.
Maren must see it because she steps back two steps. “If I had to choose, I’d go with pink.”
As hard as I try, I can’t hold back a sneeze. “Me too.”
“Bless you,” she says softly. “I’m surprised to run into you here.”
I can’t tell if it’s a genuine statement or a roundabout way of accusing me of stalking. I answer as if it’s the former. “Pace lives a couple of blocks from here. I just left his place.”
Maren glances at her building. “Is he doing all right?”
There’s no concern woven into the question. I don’t peg Pace as her type, but I have no real sense of what she finds attractive in a man.
“He’ll survive,” I chuckle. “Shit like this happens. There’s always a way to recover.”
“You swore.” She points out as she looks at Dudley. “I should take him home.”
“Have you had dinner?”
She drops her gaze. “I’m not dressed for going out.”
Ripped, faded jeans, a white sweater, and a pair of sneakers are the perfect dinner attire, so I tell her as much. “You look amazing. We can share a pizza.”
Hesitation sits in the air between us as she sucks in a deep breath. “I’m not sure.”
I frame the invitation in a different way because I can’t tell what’s holding her back. “There’s a big project coming up in a couple of weeks, and I could use your help. We should discuss that.”
Talking about the charity calendar will happen tonight, but I want that to drift into a conversation about her. I want to know more about her.
I press my hand to the bottom of my nose as I feel a sneeze coming on.
“Let me take Dudley up to my roommate.” She steps around me. “I’ll be back in five minutes.”
I sneeze one last time as I watch her hurry toward her building.
I’ve never looked forward to eating pizza with someone as much as I am right now.
Chapter 26
Maren
I tell myself that pizza with my boss is no big deal.
I ate a meal with Royce Knott once. Technically, I ate, and he talked. That business dinner started with him drinking two glasses of vodka as if they were ice-cold water on a sweltering summer afternoon.
As I picked at the crab cake I ordered, he