Chapter 18
S CARLETT
“Ewan,” I push out, automatically taking in the people in the park.
There aren’t that many. A few more people are walking their dogs, and that’s about it.
For a moment, I don’t know how to react or what to say. His eyes search me as if my reaction to his unexpected appearance is significant, so following my heart, I close the gap between us, push up onto my toes, wind my free arm around his neck, and kiss his cheek.
I know how much he likes me to react without holding back. And I know how much I like it to be able to do that, for once.
What I feel like.
“You knew I was here?”
“It’s the only park in the area,” he replies.
“Were you in the area, too?”
“I had some stuff to do in Brooklyn, and I was on my way here. What time are you supposed to leave?”
“Uh… My client will probably be back in an hour. So, in the afternoon?”
“Okay. Want to grab a bite?”
“Like right now?”
“Yeah. Why not?”
“I don’t think they allow dogs inside.”
“We’ll figure something out. Let’s go.”
He shows me to the exit, where a couple of cars are waiting with their engines running. He drove his truck this morning, and I don’t see his car anywhere now.
Maybe that’s why I have this feeling those cars and his presence here are connected.
“There’s a cafe around the corner,” he says, scooping out his phone. “Would that work for you?”
“Yes.”
I look at him with interest as he calls the place and talks to a person named Blake.
We’re not stopping as he continues his conversation with Blake and orders soup, sandwiches, and banana bread. The topic of Mousy comes into conversation, and I also learn she’ll have a few special treats waiting for her.
He hangs up.
“Do you want me now to feel like a princess?” I say, with a smile.
“I want us to feel good. That’s all I want.”
A faint grin tilts his lips as some tension in his voice becomes apparent. There is no time to ask more questions as we round the corner and a cute place with glass doors and a flashy front enters our line of sight.
He holds the door for me and, out of reflex, I suppose, checks the street behind me as if we have been followed.
I hope that’s not the case.
Blake greets us and shows us to the back of the main room. A sleek counter lines one side of the place while small round tables for two line the other.
Marble floors stretch out in front of us and defuse lightning streams from the ceiling.
Our table is tucked in a nook.
We can still see the main room, but we have some privacy.
“The food will arrive shortly,” Blake says once we slide into our seats. “Coffee?” he asks, moving his eyes from me to him.
“Yes,” Ewan says.
He gives the man instructions on how we like our drinks to be.
“You remembered,” I say, hinting at the night when I had made coffee for us.
“It wasn’t that hard.”
The food arrives.
Mousy has a special chair with enough room for her treats and a bowl of water.
A few moments later, we eat our food.
It’s fresh and delicious.
“Do you do this often?” I ask, and his phone starts ringing.
He picks it up and glances at the name, calmly chewing on his food.
“I need to take this,” he says abruptly.
“Sure,” I murmur.
The phone is still ringing when he pushes out of his seat and walks out of the cafe.
I find it interesting but not unusual.
There’s no reason to share his personal life with me.
I finish my salad and eat my sandwich before I glance over my shoulder. He’s no longer in front of the cafe.
I check the time on my phone, aware I’m pressed to collect Mousy and return.
Miss Stolz would be back soon.
“I’m sorry. It took longer than I’d planned,” he says behind me, and I set my phone back, looking at him.
“Everything good?”
“Yes, everything’s fine,” he says and resumes eating. “What were you asking me?”
“If you were doing this often.”
“Eating in Manhattan? Yes,” he says, grinning.
That call must’ve been the bearer of some good news.
“With people like me?”
Looking down, he flashes a knowing smile.
“Do you mean women?”
“Women like me?” I clarify.
He chews thoughtfully before setting his fork down and drinking some coffee.
“You want to know if I’m seeing anyone?”
“Wouldn’t you want to know that in my case?”
He laughs wolfishly.
“Are you seeing anyone?”
He chews on his food again.
“No. And even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. Right?” I joke.
He flashes a smirk.
“You think I’m cock blocking you in any way?”
Chuckling, I nod.
“Yeah. I think you are.”
“But you’re not seeing anyone.”
“How do you know?”
“Your ex still shows up at your door, announced.”
“And that’s your clue?”
“You know I’m right about this.”
I look down, pick up a slice of banana bread, take a bite, and enjoy the sweet taste, crunchy walnuts, and warm spices aroma.
“This is good,” I say, buying some time while trying to come up with an answer. I lift my gaze. “What else has given me away?”
He breathes a throaty, sexy laugh that makes my hair stand on end.
“You really want to know?”
He’s flirting with me now.
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
He leans closer and whispers words against my ear, goosebumps rushing down my arms.
“Your sweat.”
“My sweat?” A swirl of embarrassment moves through me. “Am I smelly now?”
“Not now. That night at the party.”
My eyes go wide.
My mouth opens.
“You sniffed my sweat?”
“It wasn’t a bad thing.”
“It is a bad thing if it tells you I’m not seeing anyone.”A secret smile tips his lips. “I don’t know why you’re smiling like that. We’re not here because of sex.”
“Obviously,” he says, amused.
His laugh subsides when I put my hand on his and look seriously into his eyes.
“What holds you back, Ewan?” I ask quietly.
His grin fades while he ponders an answer.
“It’s more than one thing.”
“Tell me.”
“I’m sure a lot of things hold you back,” he says.
“Yes. That’s true. But I still love that we are here, having lunch and talking about it.”
A plum of sadness falls over his eyes.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” he says absently as if my words bring back some memory. A thing from the past.
I wish he would go on, but my phone buzzes in my backpack, and the opportunity is forever lost.
The noise puts a wry smile on my lips as I lower my hand and dig for my phone in my backpack.
“This must be Mousy’s owner. She said she’d call me when she left the doctor’s office.”
Shouldn’t I just keep my mouth shut?
I push my eyes down.
Sammy’s name flashes across the screen, and I freeze, not knowing what to do. Normally, she calls when she has a job for me or wants me to fill in for her.
“Are you gonna take that or not?” he asks, noticing my changed behavior.
It would be odd to do what he did––go out and talk to her in front of the building.
“Yes. Of course,” I say reassuringly.
I take the call and put my phone to my ear.
Ewan signals to Blake who comes to the table and brings the check before spinning away.
Ewan slides money onto the table, keeping an eye on me.
“Yeah?” I ask, not in my usual tone.
“Hey, you,” she says in her signature joyful voice. “Where are you?”
“Manhattan,” I say cryptically, my eyes connected to Ewan’s.
He sets his forearms on the table and laces his fingers together, watching me the way I watch my students when they try to get away with stuff.
“Uh… Are you okay?” Sammy asks.
Perfect.
Now red flags went up for Sammy.
“Yes. I’m working.”
“Working?”
“Petsitting for Miss Scholz.”
“Oh. Her. Can you meet me someplace for a minute? It won’t take long.”
“Now?”
“Yes, now. Are you at her place? I can meet you downstairs.”
She’s had my gig before, so she knows where Mousy’s owner lives.
“In five minutes?” I say.
“Five minutes?”
“Yeah. I’m coming from the park. Can you actually make it ten?”
“Ten is good. But don’t make me wait. I can’t stand this cold. I have a special gig for you. And you will love it,” she says, ecstatic.
“All right,” I murmur dryly. “Why can’t you just tell me on the phone what it’s all about?” I ask, peeling my eyes away from Ewan’s.
I take it he doesn’t like that I have fabricated a story, although he asked me in the past not to run my mouth.
He’s not a fan of this, in reality, his arched eyebrow says to me.
I press my phone into my cheek so he can’t hear her talking. I don’t know whether it’s working or not.
He still looks at me with suspicion.
“I’m at the hair salon right now,” Sammy says. “The girl is almost done, but I can’t talk. Besides, some things need to stay between us.”
I have a feeling I know what this is all about.
I’ve done this gig before, and this wouldn’t be my first time when I was pole dancing for money.
It’s not as bad as it sounds.
It doesn’t involve sex. If it did, my sweat wouldn’t stink.
“Okay. I’ll see you there,” I say and end the call, glancing at Ewan like I’ve snuck counterfeited goods into the country.
He tosses a smile at me.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Yes, I am,” I say, sweating. “That was my friend. She had a new job for me and couldn’t tell me on the phone what it was all about. She was at the hair salon.”
He tips his gaze down and drags it over the table.
“Are you done? I also need to be someplace else,” he says.
“Yeah. Of course. I need to rush away, anyway. I’m sorry we had to cut our meeting short.”
“No problem. I’ll see you when you’re done, then?”
“You mean in an hour?”
“If that’s when you’re done, yes.”
“Okay. I’ll let you know when I’m done.”
With that, I pick up the dog, and we exit the place.
Unfortunately, he walks back to those cars––I think––and I go in the opposite direction.
I feel a quiet nudge to kiss him goodbye, but this isn’t the moment or the place for that.
“Okay. I’ll see you,” I say, gesturing at him and moving backward.
He nods.
“Thank you for the lunch,” I say.
“You’re welcome.”
We go separate ways a few seconds later, and I pace away with a strange feeling in my chest.
Today didn’t quite go how I wanted it to go.