Rocco seeing me looking like a slob, when José and Salome arrived.
I didn’t stop moving around the kitchen and just called out to them while opening cans of coconut milk and pigeon peas. “It’s open! Come on in.”
I smiled as I heard them roll into my apartment like two Spanglish-speaking tornados.
José came over to give me a kiss on the cheek as he unloaded the bottles of wine he’d brought.
I gave him a dirty looked as he pulled back. “You had to invite Rocco to that chat, didn’t you?” He clicked his tongue like I was talking nonsense. José had only been at Sturm’s about nine months, but he’d been working as a web designer in the fashion industry for a minute. He was not fazed by anything.
He waved his hand as if the fact that we were fraternizing with the enemy was no big. “It’s not like any of us are anything other than employees. He’s doing a job and so are we.” He lifted a hand, palm out. “At the end of the day, it’s not like any of us can do anything other than do what we’re supposed to and let the bigwigs figure this out.”
He wasn’t wrong and I wasn’t in the mood to argue, so I switched to a lighter topic.
“Ooh, are those the new Guccis?” I asked as he nodded and tapped his toes and heels together like a Puerto Rican Dorothy.
“Si, Nena.” He grabbed the wineglass I’d gotten for him from the cupboard, still admiring his white leather hi-tops with the green and red stripes. They matched perfectly with his skinny black jeans and fitted black Balmain long-sleeved shirt. “You know I can’t resist that employee discount. Not that you do either. Are those sweats that make your ass pop like Cardi’s from the new LV knits collection?”
He actually slapped my backside as Salome cackled from a stool on the counter.
And as if on fucking cue, Tariq and Rocco walked into my apartment.
I covered my eyes with the back of my hand, mortified. “Oh my gawd, José, you’re a mess.”
He just sipped on his wine, unbothered. “Oh good, more of the crew’s here.” I didn’t miss that he gave Tariq a very long look. The boy put his time in at the gym, that was for sure.
I also didn’t miss that Rocco was looking like a six-foot-tall Italian-Irish sex-fever dream in my living room and presently taking a thorough look at my LV-knits-clad ass.
“Nena, this is nice, you got a lot of space.” José snatched me out of staring at Rocco like a weirdo. I looked at him and nodded as he walked around my place.
“It was supposed to be an apartment for two.” I laughed humorlessly, and got various versions of “poor Julia” smiles. “But fortunately, the rent isn’t too bad and I could keep the place.” I lifted a shoulder, taking the glass of wine Salome slid over the counter.
José’s face shadowed for a moment at my words. He’d told us that he left New York City after his partner of over ten years had passed away. Too many memories. I gave his hand a squeeze but he bounced back quickly.
“Well, regardless of the circumstances, here we are.” He waved a hand at the lot of us. “The Gotham Exiles repping NYC. The Republic of Texas better be ready.” We all laughed at that and moved to clink glasses.
After a moment, I pointed at the spot where Rocco was standing while the others chatted on the couch. “Mr. Quinn.” I dipped my head and almost curtsied because I was a full-on dweeb now.
He lifted a shoulder, a small smile on his lips as he held a bottle of cold beer. He was in his work clothes still. Gray slacks and a navy shirt with the sleeves folded up to his elbows. I gripped the counter behind me with both hands to keep from sighing.
He was handsome and he was an extremely bad idea. That I needed to stay clear on.
After another moment of awkward silence, he pushed off the wall and went to wash his hands. His big body taking up space in my kitchen.
“How can I help with dinner?”
My eyebrows almost flew off my forehead at his question. I took another sip of my wine, assessing him, and came over to where he was. “You cook?”
Shit, proximity was not going to help me keep it together. The man smelled like lemon verbena and sweat, and the combo was really loosening