Chapter 30
CHAPTER THIRTY
Berk
Since we’ve sat down in this crowded coffee shop, I haven’t been able to take my eyes off of Astrid.
Our playful banter as we waited in line was enough to stir my cock.
I’ve flirted with my fair share of women, but this was different.
It was grounded in something more than an innocent moment in time.
This felt more like a promise.
I place my coffee cup down. “How is your schedule looking for the week?”
“I have an order coming in this afternoon,” she says quietly. “It’s a collection of records from an estate sale. I wasn’t going to bid on it since I’ve been loading up on inventory lately, but it was too good to pass up.”
I sip from my coffee as I listen.
She scratches the base of her neck. “I’ll need to take tonight and tomorrow night to sort through all of it. I’ll work on it during the day too, but when a customer comes into the store, I have to give them all my attention.”
I might feel a pinch of frustration over the fact that she’s choosing to focus on work instead of squeezing in time to see me, but I respect her.
From what I’ve been able to piece together, she’s running a business on her own. I have firsthand knowledge of how much commitment that takes.
“My daughter has a piano lesson on Wednesday.” I tap a fingertip on the top of the table. “My brother is her teacher. He’ll be happy to hang out with her for the evening and tuck her in. Does Wednesday night work for you?”
Her gaze wanders over my face. “Your brother is a piano teacher?”
I chuckle. “Only for my daughter. He owns a sports management firm with his wife.”
“That sounds interesting.”
“He’ll tell you that it is.” I glance at the line of people waiting to order their morning beverages. “He’s good at it. I’m proud of him.”
She looks at the coffee cup in front of her. “I have two brothers.”
I push for more because I crave knowledge about this woman more than anything at the moment. “Younger or older?”
“Younger,” she confesses. “One is twelve. The other is ten.”
“Do they live in the city?”
“Ohio,” she blurts out with a sigh. “I grew up there.”
Surprised by that, I press on, “I assumed you were a born and bred New Yorker like me.”
That lures a soft smile to her mouth. “I was born in Buffalo. My dad got a promotion when I was a few months old. The position was in Ohio, so we moved there.”
A roar of laughter comes from a table near us, so we both look in that direction to find two women having an animated conversation.
Astrid exhales. “My parents never married. They split when I was three because my mom wanted to move to California to pursue her career. After Sweet Night Sky was released, she did a cross-country tour playing sets at small venues. That brought her to New York City. She always loved the energy of Manhattan, so she decided to plant roots here. My dad got married around that time to my step-mom.”
That’s a hell of a lot for a young kid to handle.
“I visited my mom often.” Her gaze drops to her wrist, but the tattoo I sense she’s searching for a glimpse of is hidden under the sleeve of her sweater. “Coming to New York to see her was the best.”
“She must have loved those visits too.”
“She did,” she agrees with a nod. “She bought Vinyl Crush a few months after she got here. The store meant everything to her.”
“It means a lot to you too,” I say.
Her hand circles around the half-filled coffee mug in front of her. “I promised her I’d take care of it.”
“From what I’ve seen, you’re doing a great job, Astrid.”
Her expression softens at the compliment. “I hope I am.”
We both fall silent as she takes a sip of coffee.
As soon as her cup is back on the table, she clears her throat. “Do you have a place in mind for dinner on Wednesday?”
I haven’t given it much thought, so I shake my head. “If you have a preference, I’m good to go there.”
Her brows perk. “Meet me at the store at eight.”
Unsure if that means she’s made up her mind about where we’ll eat, I smile. “You’ll handle the reservation?”
“I’ll handle all of it,” she says with a glint in her eye. “All you need to do is show up.”
I tug on the lapels of my jacket. “Suit or no suit.”
“Suit,” she answers quickly. “I like that look on you.”
I rub my jaw. “A suit is it.”
“You never bring me lunch,” Keats says suspiciously as he eyes the sandwich I picked up for him on my way to his office. “What the hell do you want?”
I don’t call him out on the swearing because he does it himself.
“I owe a hundred to the fund. I fucking know it,” he scoffs.
I perk a brow.
Two of his fingers dart up. “All right, two. I wouldn’t owe anything if you hadn’t shown up.”
I laugh that off because he’s grinning. “You’re welcome.”
He sniffs the air. “Is that pastrami I smell?”
“It’s turkey on rye with lettuce, tomato, and light mayo.”
“Light mayo?” He shakes his head. “Why deprive me of the good stuff?”
I jerk a thumb over my shoulder toward his office door. “It’s what your wife usually orders for both of you. I picked her up one too.”
Maren may have started as Keats’s assistant, but now she’s his partner in this multi-million dollar business.
Her office is down the hall. I stopped in there first, dropped off a sandwich for her, and asked the same favor I’m about to ask my brother.
Maren happily agreed to help out. She did that without any questions.
I could have left it at that, but I want to clue Keats in on the plan for Wednesday night.
“Maren’s been ordering me sandwiches with light mayo?” He narrows his green eyes. “Fuck me. She’s always looking out for what’s best for me. She loves me a hell of a lot.”
“You’re on a roll,” I point out. “If Stevie were here…”
“She’d tell me that this tie doesn’t go with this suit.” He glances down at his pink necktie. “That kid told me to only wear this tie with my navy blue suit. I should have listened to her.”
I take in the light gray three-piece suit he’s wearing. “You look fine.”
“Not Stevie fine, but it’ll do,” he mumbles.
“Speaking of Stevie,” I effortlessly shift the subject to that favor I’m about to ask.
“When, where, and how long do I get to enjoy her company?”
I chuckle. “Wednesday night. Can you feed her after the piano lesson and tuck her into bed. I’ll be home by midnight.”
I’d plan on staying the night with Astrid, but I’ve rarely missed dropping Stevie off at school. I’ll book the same hotel again and let Astrid enjoy it until morning.
“Are you wining and dining a new client?”
Hesitantly, I shake my head. “No.”
“A current client?”
I rub my forehead. “It’s nothing like that.”
“What then?”
I scrub the back of my neck with my palm. I should have left his sandwich with Maren after I got her to agree to watch Stevie on Wednesday.
“You’re going on a date, aren’t you?” He smiles. “That’s what is happening, right?”
“I’m having dinner with someone.”
“Does this someone play guitar and find lost diary keys?”
“What the fuck?” I mutter.
“You owe to the fund now.” He reaches out to tap my shoulder. “It doesn’t take a detective to piece the clues together, Berk.”
“What clues?”
He taps his index finger against his palm. “Stevie mentioned that you thought Astrid was pretty, Gaines said you were suddenly into records, and Miss Rehn owns Vinyl Crush.”
I shake my head. “How do you know that?”
He mimes typing with both hands. “I looked her up online, Berk. Your daughter tossed a woman’s name out. What was I supposed to do? Ignore that?”
“It’s just a date, Keats,” I stress. “Don’t bring any of this up to Stevie.”
Shoving his hands into the front pockets of his pants, he steps closer to me. “I would never do that. My wife is the only person who knows you’re crushing on Astrid Rehn, and she’ll keep that under lock and key until you’re ready to share it with everyone.”
“It may never get to that point.”
“One step at a time, Berk.” He pats my cheek. “Enjoy yourself on Wednesday night. I’ll take good care of our little girl.”
I know he will. I trust my brother not only with my life but with Stevie’s too.