15. A Good Weird
15
A Good Weird
Asher
Change has never come easy for me. Yet here I am changing a flight ticket to help someone I’ve only known for six days.
“Done,” I say, dropping my phone on the kitchen table. “Flight is changed.”
Daisy takes a sip of her coffee. “I really appreciate it. We’re practically strangers, yet—” she shakes her head. “Just, thank you.”
“No prob lem.” In a way, she’s right. We barely know each other. But at the same time, I’ve never opened up to somebody as much as I have Daisy, so that has to count for something. At the very least, it’s enough for me to change my flight tickets. “I just have a quick call to make, if you don’t mind?”
“Not at all.” She smiles. “I’ll go dry my hair, and then we can head out? The storm has pretty much subsided. It’s still raining, but we’ll mostly stay indoors.”
She makes her way to the back of the house, and I take the opportunity to call Doug.
“Forbes,” he barks. “Any news?”
“Hi, Doug. Not really. I’m having a harder time than I expected. I’ll have to stay longer for this.”
“How much longer?” he growls.
“At least another week. I haven’t found a way to break into the system yet, but there’s something there, I’m sure of it. The more time I spend with the girl who’s showing me around, the easier it will be to gain access.”
He blows out a frustrated breath. “Fine. Work your magic. I’m counting on you, Forbes.”
“Of course.” I nod firmly. “I’m on it.”
My heart twists as I hang up the phone. Is that really why I’m staying longer? Am I really on it ? The memory of Daisy’s head resting against my chest, how good it felt, sends a shiver down my spine. No, I have to stay focused. I’m not moving to Chicago, and nothing can happen between Daisy and me. Not when I’m this close to getting everything I’ve ever wanted.
“I’m ready,” Daisy says, startling me. “We can go.”
I clear my throat, swinging to face her. “Great. Do you think we’ll have time to shop for a suit?” I grimace at the thought. Suits are not really my thing. “I didn’t exactly pack one, and I’m guessing the Architecture Foundation Gala requires the full penguin attire.”
She shrugs her coat on, chuckling. “Yeah, sorry about that. But to answer your question, yes, we can go to Macy’s. It’s in another historical building, actually. Classical Revival,” she says, her eyes lighting up like two stars. “Finished in 1914 by Daniel Burnham’s firm. I love the stained-glass atria and Tiffany mosaics. And I think you’ll love it too.”
I can’t hold back my teasing smile. “You do know we’re shopping for a suit, not a historical building.”
Pausing, she looks at me, then laughs. “You can’t have one without the other in Chicago. Every outing is a chance to experience art and architecture. Let’s clean up the fort and get going. I’m excited now.”
“Woah. Slow down.” I grin. “Can we stop by my hotel room first so I can shower and change?”
Her chee ks flush pink. “Um, yeah. Of course.”
I spent more than twenty-four hours at Daisy’s place, but somehow, having her in my hotel room feels more intimate. It’s smaller, for one, and the bathroom is located way too close to the bedroom, where Daisy is waiting for me. But as intimate as this all seems, it also feels like a perfectly normal morning routine. And that’s the scary part. No, I can’t go there again.
I’m almost done toweling myself off when I realize my clothes are still in the room. Great. Nothing like strutting out half-naked to start the day off right.
“Sorry,” I say as I open the bathroom door, my towel firmly secure on my hips. “I have to grab some clothes.”
Daisy is sitting at the end of the bed, pretending to read a magazine. But I don’t miss the way her eyes trail my body as I exit the bathroom. Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating. She’s just looking at me like anyone would in this situation. This city has a weird effect on me. Maybe it’s something in the water?
“You just wanted to show off your abs, didn’t you?” she asks, still pretending to read.
Heat creeps up my neck. So, she is looking. A playful grin pulls at my lips. “Well, you’d better take a good look, Red. With all the food I’ve been eating here, and virtually no exercise, these abs won’t last long,” I joke, tapping my stomach. “I don’t know how you stay so fit on the Chicago diet.”
She shakes her head, flipping the page. “I exercise, usually running or biking. I actually planned for us to do that today, but with the rain . . .” She shrugs. “Maybe later this week.”
“I’d love that,” I say, still smiling as I grab my clothes. “I’ll go get dressed, and then you can tell me all about the Macy’s building.”
I enter the bathroom and close the door.
“It’s Marshall Field’s, actually,” Daisy’s muffled voice calls through the door. “The previous department store was called that before Macy’s bought it and changed the name. Chicagoans were not happy about it. They picketed for weeks to protest the name change.”
An even larger smile builds on my lips as I start getting dressed. Having Daisy’s commentary as part of my morning routine would definitely be a point in favor of Chicago, if I had to make that list.
Daisy
Being in Asher’s room was weird. But a good weird. The kind of weird that leaves your mind racing and your body heat shooting through the roof. I’ve come to realize I have terrible taste in men. Not that Asher isn’t drop-dead gorgeous—I’ve seen his abs now—or a bad person. But there’s one dark cloud overshadowing this perfect picture. He’s emotionally unavailable. He doesn’t want a girlfriend, he said it himself, and he may not even take the job. Not to mention all this drama with his family. If he does move here, he’ll have bigger fish to fry. And we’ll be working together.
I always do this, fall for the wrong guy. Todd was no exception, and look where that got me.
When we arrive at the Marshall Field’s building, the staggering sight pulls me back into my safe and happy place. I give Asher a tour of the building, showing him my favorite parts and sharing some anecdotes. Just how it ought to be. The tour guide and the tourist. Not the pining girl and the demi-god, or whatever he would be called.
“All right,” I say, clapping my hands together. “Let’s go find you a suit now.”
The scent of expensive perfumes and freshly polished wood fills my nose as we enter the menswear department. The sharp, clean smell of new clothes mingles with the warm, musky scent of Asher's cologne, sending my pulse into overdrive. And after just fifteen minutes, I’m back to being the pining girl. How could I not when Asher Forbes just walked out of the dressing room looking like a million bucks?
“What do you think?” he asks, glancing down at the outfit. He’s wearing a simple navy suit, but it’s like it was meant for him. The fabric follows every curve and muscle of his body.
“You look—it’s perfect. I wish I could try on the first thing I find and have it fit perfectly.” I chuckle. “Such a time saver.”
He cocks his head to the side. “Come on. As if you don’t look stunning in anything you wear.”
I roll my eyes, laughing softly, but inside, I’m nowhere near as casual. Inside, everything twitches, burns, and leaps at his words. It’s a strange mix of sensations, both exhilarating and scary. Something happened last night. There’s less distance between Asher and me. He would have never made a comment like that a few days ago. And I wouldn’t have drooled over seeing him in a suit, either.
Crap . I’m in deep.
He clears his throat. “So, I’ll just take this one, and we can go. Where are we headed, by the way?” he asks, slipping back into the dressing room
“I thought we could visit the Field Museum and the Shedd Aquarium today,” I say, raising my voice so he can hear me.
I go on to explain the highlights of both buildings as he changes back into his clothes and we head to the cash register.
Once Asher pays and they arrange a delivery to his hotel, we walk out of the building and into the humid late-morning air. It’s not raining anymore, but judging by the dark clouds overhead, I’m guessing the sky isn’t done with us for the day.
“Oh!” I gasp as the familiar turquoise shape catches my eye. “I forgot to tell you about the clock. It’s—”
“Daisy!” Asher shouts, grabbing my arm and pulling me toward him.
Time seems to slow as I’m yanked backwards, my feet stumbling on the pavement. I feel Asher's strong grip on my arm, the urgency in his touch sending a jolt of adrenaline through my veins. The screeching of wheels and the scraping of rubber on the asphalt fi lls the air, and I catch a glimpse of a pedal cab speeding by, just inches from where I was standing. The driver howls at me to be careful, his voice trailing off as he disappears down the street.
My heart pounds in my chest, my breath coming in ragged gasps. I look up at Asher, noticing a mix of panic and relief in his eyes. Our faces are just inches apart, our breath mingling in the cold air. His eyes never leave mine, and just when I wonder if he’s going to kiss me, he asks, “Are you okay?” His voice is shaking as he touches my head, making sure I’m not hurt.
“I—I didn’t see it,” I stammer, still trying to process what just happened. My knees are wobbling, and I lean against him for support. “I was looking at the clock . . .”
He chuckles, but it’s a desperate sound. “Your love for architecture will kill you one day, you know that?”
I exhale a breath of relief. “You might be right.” I smile, tilting my head to look at the clock. “But it’s a very important clock.”
He bellows out a laugh, and my pulse slows as I catch my breath. “Not more important than your life,” he says, placing his hands on my shoulders and guiding me toward the building. “But tell me all about it. I know you won’t rest until you do.”
My stomach flips, the adrenaline giving way to a fluttering sensation. This man already knows me so well. Biting my lip, I nod, then relay everything I know about the clock.