11. Chapter 11
Avoiding Luca was easy enough over the next two days. The more a woman wanted to be around another, the easier it was to avoid her.
Because it wasn’t out of fear, discomfort, or boredom. Sarah avoided Luca as a game. She ignored her texts. Only said the customary greetings and business-related words for two days. Spared her no extra glances… except for when she wanted to remind her that she did, indeed, find her attractive.
A small smile when leaning over the conference table in front of her.
A brush against her shoulder when they happened to be in the same crowded elevator.
The jacket and the top two buttons of a blouse left open when sitting across from her during a morning meeting.
A hastily scribbled note shoved into her hand that said nothing outrageous, in case HR was watching.
“Roses are red, violets are blue. What the hell do I do with you?”
Of course, Luca continued to text her.
“What do you want, Angel? I’ll take you anywhere you want to go. Not just in the city. Around the world. I have a home in Copenhagen. Or would you like to visit family in London? Italy is lovely this time of year. Or we can go to a sandy beach as an excuse for a bikini.”
She looked up from her phone as Luca entered the room, pocketing her own phone. Luca flashed her a haughty grin before heading to Danica’s corner office.
“Send me one response confirming that you’re coming by my place. That’s all I ask.”
Sarah waited a few minutes, taking the time to finish up one of her tasks and firing off an inter-office message to another department before getting back to Luca. “I’m not opposed.”
She burst from the corner office doors with triumph on her face.
“No taking care of yourself tonight, Angel. I will do it all for you. But let’s start with wine and dinner at seven. I’ll forward you my address and tell my on-site bodyguard to give us some privacy tonight. No promises after ten, though. I think he likes watching me sleep.”
Was Sarah supposed to laugh at that? Because she did, thoroughly.
“Someone’s in a giddy mood,” Abby said, sitting down across from Sarah. Alicia shortly joined them, feet slipping out of her flats as she leaned over Abby’s desk and pointed to what she wanted transcribed by the end of the day. “Anything to do with that secret admirer of yours?”
Alicia looked up. “Secret admirer? Here I thought I knew everything.”
“Oh, yeah, Sarah’s got some guy sending her flowers every other day, but she won’t say anything about him.”
For the first time that day, Sarah scowled in someone’s direction. “It’s not like that.”
“Than what is it like?”
“Let’s let Ms. Clayborn live her life and do her job, hm?” Alicia tucked a large binder beneath her arm. “Besides, if any unsavory characters are trying to bother her, she knows who to contact about it.”
“I sure do, ma’am.”
Alicia left. Abby shot her coworker a disapproving look.
“What?”
“What do you mean what? Geez.”
Sarah sent one last text to Luca before safely pocketing her phone. “If I open my legs for you again, Ms. Blackbourne, you'd better deliver what I want.”
She could practically hear Luca groaning in anticipation from the other room.
Seven gave her enough time after work to jet home and change into something more date-appropriate than her plain pantsuit.
Tight jeans, a flirty white blouse, minimal – but dark – makeup, and strappy heels as opposed to the little boots she usually wore.
Nigel wasn’t home from his own job yet, so she left him a note where he was sure to see it.
“Going out with some people. Don’t wait up. ”
A light winter coat covered her up before she went out and caught a cab from the sidewalk. She gave the driver the address Luca had sent her. A waterfront property, of course.
She expected a nice, executive apartment procured the moment Luca knew she was heading back to America for work.
What she didn’t expect was a penthouse suite with the perfect view of the starlit river meandering through the city’s core.
Not that she got to see much of the view before heading upstairs.
Sarah had worn sunglasses and wrapped a black scarf around her head as soon as she got in the cab. She was taking no chances.
“My God,” Luca said the moment she opened her door. “You actually came.”
Sarah removed the glasses and scarf so Luca could confirm she wasn’t imagining things. “Like what you see?”
She stood out of the way, gesturing for Sarah to enter.
The scent of dinner hit her right away. Again, she expected a certain level of quality.
Luca Blackbourne was a daughter of privilege and used to having things a certain way.
Of course, dinner would be to die for. What Sarah never once expected was the fact that it didn’t come from takeout or food prepared by a chef while Luca was out that day.
Not if the burning stove and loads of ingredients across the countertops had anything to say about it.
“You… cook?” Sarah sat on one of the stools at the island counter in the middle of the open-concept kitchen.
“Surprised?” Luca turned down one of the burners and removed the wok that was atop it. “I love cooking. My biggest wish is always to have more people to cook for. You should have seen what I made your bosses for dinner last weekend.”
Sorry to have missed it. Not really. The Moreaus had a professional chef who cooked their meals for them every day. The special diet Alicia followed was enough to give Sarah a headache. “I have to admit, I’m not used to seeing these kitchens in these places actually used.”
“I was an anomaly growing up, to be sure.” Only then did Sarah realize that Luca had changed her clothing as well.
No more suit and blouse. Jeans. Tight, perfectly-fitted jeans that showed off her hard ass.
But Sarah was more aroused by the black turtleneck stretching across her flexing muscles whenever she moved this dish or turned this piece of food over.
She must have known how hot she was. Even her slightly mussed hair graced her scalp perfectly.
Hell, the color was the same as the sweater!
Everything matched! Damn her. “But I spent a lot of time in the kitchen as a kid since the family chef also doubled as my Swedish tutor. You pick things up.”
“Of course you know Swedish.”
“I’m Danish. You’re right. Of course I know Swedish. And some Icelandic, and some Norwegian.” Luca presented her with a glass of red wine. “But no Finnish. Fuck that mess.”
Sarah didn’t mean to giggle. She never giggled, especially not in front of lovers. Giggling was a sign of comfort and lowered guards.
More food than she could eat appeared before her.
Stir-fry with the freshest vegetables and the crunchiest noodles.
Salad as thick as the fog outside. Garlic bread that was more carbs and butter than crust. Sarah was going to be so bloated that Luca would decide for sure if she found her hot. My round face is the first thing to go.
“To be fair,” Luca said, “I didn’t buy the ingredients. That’s why we have assistants.”
Was that supposed to be a cute joke? “I occasionally buy groceries for my boss, yes.”
Luca sat across from her, nose already in her wineglass. “A toast?”
“To what?”
“Who cares?”
They toasted to absolutely nothing. The wine was the only thing to turn out exactly as Sarah expected: succulent and aromatic.
It complemented the stir-fry and garlic bread almost perfectly.
Luca may not have been a professional sommelier, but she grew up in a family that surely appreciated the finer and more expensive luxuries.
Wonderful wine and how to pair it with equally succulent food was up on that list.
“Hope you like it. It’s my own recipe. Might even say it’s my best one.”
“All this trouble for me, hm?”
“Trouble?” Luca put down her glass before she choked on wine. “Trouble? I’ve spent the past two weeks trying to get you to have a date with me, and you’re calling this trouble?”
“I still don’t understand what you fancy so much about me, besides my body, I suppose.”
“Give yourself more credit.” Luca looked away.
“Although your body helps, of course.”She said it so good-humoredly that Sarah couldn’t take offense.
I rather hate how comfortable I am around her now.
Why did Luca Blackbourne have to be like this?
Sarah knew how to handle people more like her boss – aloof and standoffish.
No wonder Danica and Luca were such close friends.
Like the wine complemented the food, those two women’s personalities complemented each other as well.
And their names are infuriatingly similar, too.
No wonder they called each other “Dan” and “Lu.” Less confusion that way.
“You know how this looks,” Sarah said. “If Ms. Moreau found out about this…”
Luca held up her hand. “She won’t. I haven’t said a word about it.
I told her I had a date tonight, but not with whom.
I only told her that much so she would leave me the hell alone and not call me at nine with ideas.
Goodness. You’d think getting married would have given her a bigger life than she had before. ”
“You really don’t know what it was like before, honestly.” Danica called her assistants a lot less often now.
“You probably do have a better idea, this is true. I mostly knew her in college. Even back then, she was still a workaholic who would blow off her friends to do more research or take one of our professors out for dinner. To pick their brains. Can you believe it?”
“I can, actually.” Danica had her wild streak like any other heiress, and God knew she kept her sex life perpetually active whenever a convenient opportunity presented itself, but she also valued people’s time.
If someone intelligent crossed her path, she’d pick that brain above fucking it away.
“What about you? Are you the kind of heiress who picks pussy over power?”