Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CLAIRE
Claire sat contemplating a second cup of coffee when a familiar ding echoed inside her quiet office.
Good Lord! Can't you wait until I'm fully awake?
Molly would hound her all morning, begging for the particulars from the night before.
The sooner she replied, the sooner she could get on with her day.
Molly: Start from when you opened the door and saw him standing there.
Claire: Good morning to you too.
Molly: Sorry. Good Morning, Now spill it.
Claire: We had a very nice evening.
Molly: A nice evening?
Claire: Yep.
Molly: Nice?
Claire: That's what I said.
Molly: You know I hate nice. Such a shit word. You can do better than nice.
Claire: Like what?
Molly: Do I have to spell it out?
Claire: I have a conference call in a few minutes.
Molly: So you're just gonna leave me hanging? No play-by-play?
Claire: Precisely. Have a good day :)
Two seconds later her cell phone rang.
"Yes?" Claire answered coolly.
"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" Molly asked in a huff.
"Being aloof?"
"Riddle me this. Did he spend the night or not?
"He did not."
"What!" Molly yelled.
Claire laughed. "He kissed my hand at the door and left around one o'clock."
"You're kidding, right? On the hand? Really?”
"The perfect gentleman."
"Damn him!" Molly cursed.
"If it makes you feel better,” Claire said. “I did get a lengthy foot massage and some first-rate cuddling out of the deal."
"What is this? Junior high? I suppose he'll pass you a note at your locker later."
"We're not rushing, Molly," Claire said.
"Hold up. You almost became the newest Bond girl on his sexy sofa a few months ago and now you're not rushing it?"
"Listen, just because you hopped into bed with Hamish on your first—"
"Oh, please,” Molly countered. “It's not like I had a choice. You can't even compare the two."
"What? Why the hell not?" Claire asked, exasperated.
"Because Hamish's meter is running. He’s an old man! Sexy as hell, but in no way a spring chicken. I only have so much time." Molly laughed, causing Claire to follow suit. “So, what's on tap for lunch today? Italian? Mediterranean? Asian?"
"Rain check. He’s got overnight business in Paris and won't be back until tomorrow afternoon. He's meeting us for dinner though."
"Twenty-four Jay-free hours? How will you ever survive?" Molly teased.
"Actually, it's more like thirty-three—not that I’m counting."
They spent a few minutes discussing party arrangements, menu selections, and the final guest list for Hamish's birthday extravaganza.
In true Molly fashion, she'd taken control of the event and would transform his place from a quiet estate to an old-fashioned, classic Gatsby-esque soiree.
Black tie. A twelve-piece band. Plenty of glitz and shimmer.
The birthday boy decked out in his signature white dinner jacket.
"Any requests for the band?” Molly asked. “I'm making a list to send over to their manager.”
"Make sure they play plenty of slow classics,” Claire said, excited by the prospect of dancing with Jay again. “The Way You Look Tonight. Must have that one.”
After the call ended, Claire retrieved her coffee cup and made a beeline for the break room. When she returned to her office a few minutes later, she found she’d missed three texts—all from Jay. Her heart soared as she read the messages.