real lucky when you slipped up the other night. You had no way of knowing your boss lost her father as a kid, too.”
She nodded, sobered by the sad coincidence she shared with Ms. Swann. “I was stupid sad that night. Caught me at a weak moment. Won’t happen again.”
“That reminds me, what did Ms. Swann say when you told her you’re using your cell for this little matchmaking extravaganza instead of her boy toy one?”
“It’s all good. I mean, her phone could’ve had dead zone problems here.” Once she’d shown her boss that reverse-lookup wouldn’t reveal any identifying information about the sender, Ms. Swann had relaxed. Still, Lexie had been very careful about what she shared with him since then, making sure she was either super vague or sharing stuff she knew was true about Ms. Swann.
Sam nodded. “What’s the status with Lynda’s Steakhouse?”
Her stomach began to churn. “Not a done deal yet. Got to schlep over to the restaurant tomorrow, do a little more schmoozing.”
“Sounding more like a native New Yorker every day.” Sam smirked. “Next thing we know you’ll be rooting for the Yankees.”
“Bite your tongue.”
Sam picked up the remains of her meal. “Thanks for dinner. I enjoyed catching up. My treat next week.”
Lexie trailed into the kitchen behind her roommate, glancing at the newest message from Steel as she took care of her leftovers. Such a beautiful day. Did you have a good one?
Back on her sofa, she tapped her Swann-appropriate response. Didn’t get out to enjoy it. Work has been busy, but good.
Then I’m honored you reached out to me for a night on the town.
Only six more days. And they couldn’t come soon enough.
Looking forward to it.
Me, too. She hit send.
Want a bonus question? I won’t ask you one in return.
Should she? Would she be messing things up for Ms. Swann if she didn’t play along?
Last chance…3…2…
Aw, damn. She had writing goals to achieve tonight, but she needed that great review from her boss, too.
One-and-a-half.
She chewed her bottom lip. Any data she collected about Steel would show she had the initiative and problem-solving skills J&C expected of their exec assistants. Okay, I’ll play. She paused for a moment, then typed: What’s your favorite childhood memory?
After a long moment, he responded. Sunday mornings. I’d go into my parents’ bedroom and my father would always be reading the newspaper, my mother doing some kind of paperwork. I’d slide between them and pretend.
She sat up. Pretend what?
That we were a real family.
Her heart lurched. What do you mean?
This response took even longer. She’d almost given up, wondering if she’d pried too much, when his response popped onto the screen. That was the extent of my relationship with them. They’re both married to their careers, worked long hours. Still do. If I lay very quiet and still, they’d let me stay.
Lexie shut her eyes, imagining the man she’d met this morning as a little boy craving his parents’ attention. A hollow feeling filled her. Sad.
We all have our stories.
She thought about her losses. Chris was a survivor then, too. Let me rephrase, what’s your favorite childhood memory that won’t break my heart?
That’s easy. I was walking home from school in the fifth grade when a stray kitten followed me. He was the cutest ball of fur, orange and white stripes and big green eyes. He also became my first pet. Never felt lonely in that house again. Are you a cat or dog person?
She warmed at the image of a big, tough guy holding a helpless kitten. Was there anything sexier? Neither. My mother’s allergic.
Are you?
I don’t know.
I guess we’ll have to run a trial. If you can tolerate an evening at my place, you’ll pass the test.
She snorted. A for effort.
Since part of Ms. Swann’s plans for the fifteenth ended at a swanky suite Lexie had already reserved for them at the Ritz, she typed: If we go to a hotel, that avoids the problem altogether.
Works for me. As long as we’re together. TTYL.
Night.
Lexie scrolled up the thread of texts and nodded. All the details she’d shared tonight on Ms. Swann’s behalf were true. And the stories he’d shared about his childhood tugged at her heart.
Or were they just that? Fictional tales to get Ms. Swann into his bed? Then again, why would he lie? Her boss was the one chasing him.
Frustrated by her merry-go-round of worries, she grabbed her Steel journal to update her notes before settling in for a late night session of writing. After