effect to add to her satisfaction.
What could be so urgent anyway? His wedding invitation? Pass.
Her conscience chastised her all night and all the following day. What if he wanted to apologize? What if he’d suddenly realized Ava wasn’t the right woman for him? She should have at least read the email he sent.
Later, she told herself on Friday evening. Right now, she had to get ready for the partners’ dinner with Julian.
Once again, the irony of the situation struck her, and she smirked. From Julian to Bass to Julian again. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same. At least, the dress was new.
She’d opted for a midnight blue strapless number that hugged her chest and nipped her waist , while the strappy black sandals with three-inch stiletto heels made her legs look long and lean. She’d styled her hair with a curling iron so the thick, dark mass tumbled to her bare shoulders in waves. Her eyes sparkled beneath gold shadow that shimmered, and she’d thickened her lashes with lots of mascara.
As she stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of her bedroom door, a thrill rippled through her. “Eat your heart out, penis-bearers. You can all look, but not touch.” She was done with men—the entire species.
“Except you, Beowulf.” She bent to her bed where the Maltese lay supine, like a best friend assessing her outfit before a big date. She scratched his head between his ears, and his tail thumped.
The buzzer sounded in the kitchen, sending the pup into a barking fit as he raced to the apartment door.
She followed and pressed the intercom. “Julian?”
“Hey, Vivi.” His voice squawked through the speaker. “You ready?”
“Almost. Come on up.” She buzzed him into the lobby and sped back to the bedroom for one last hair fluff and a lipstick application.
When he rapped knuckles on her door a few minutes later, she was ready. She pulled open the door, and he stepped back, eyes wide.
“Wow. Vivi, you look great!” His gaze scanned from head to toe, and a lazy grin stretched his lips.
“Thanks. So do you.” And he did. But then, she considered as she pulled her black wool dress coat out of the closet, his looks had never been in contention between them.
Beowulf, not happy to be ignored, yipped and bounced in the doorway, tail wagging at hyper speed.
“Hey, boy.” He bent and petted the pup’s head.
Meanwhile, Vivi grabbed her black beaded clutch and checked the contents. Satisfied, she nodded at Julian. “Let’s do it.”
The phone rang as they headed out the door, and Julian paused in the hall. “You wanna get that?”
“Nope.” She smiled. “That’s what voicemail is for.” She twisted the key in the deadbolt, heard the beep, followed by Bass’s voice.
“ Vivi? I know you’re mad and I want to explain. Please. Don’t go anywhere. I’m on my way over.”
Too late, Bass . Dropping her keys in her clutch, she took Julian’s arm. “All set.”
She’d talk to Bass tomorrow. Maybe. Tonight might be Friday the thirteenth, but she’d push her luck and roll the dice.
****
This year’s affair was at a restaurant inside Central Park with some of the most romantic views in Manhattan. Since tomorrow was Valentine’s Day, the dining room was decked in red velvet bows, gold Cupids, and lots of sparkle.
After checking their coats, Julian took her hand and led her into the bar area where a circle of formally-dressed people loitered over drinks. Vivi recognized several former coworkers and wondered how they’d react to seeing her in their midst again. She swallowed her fluttering heart, then forced herself to stand tall.
“Bruno!” one of the group shouted and stepped aside to make room so the newly arrived couple could stand among them. “What are we drinking tonight?”
Julian cocked his head at Vivi. “Champagne?”
Not her favorite, and he knew it. He probably wanted to impress the crowd with his air of sophistication. So, okay. She
What could be so urgent anyway? His wedding invitation? Pass.
Her conscience chastised her all night and all the following day. What if he wanted to apologize? What if he’d suddenly realized Ava wasn’t the right woman for him? She should have at least read the email he sent.
Later, she told herself on Friday evening. Right now, she had to get ready for the partners’ dinner with Julian.
Once again, the irony of the situation struck her, and she smirked. From Julian to Bass to Julian again. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same. At least, the dress was new.
She’d opted for a midnight blue strapless number that hugged her chest and nipped her waist , while the strappy black sandals with three-inch stiletto heels made her legs look long and lean. She’d styled her hair with a curling iron so the thick, dark mass tumbled to her bare shoulders in waves. Her eyes sparkled beneath gold shadow that shimmered, and she’d thickened her lashes with lots of mascara.
As she stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of her bedroom door, a thrill rippled through her. “Eat your heart out, penis-bearers. You can all look, but not touch.” She was done with men—the entire species.
“Except you, Beowulf.” She bent to her bed where the Maltese lay supine, like a best friend assessing her outfit before a big date. She scratched his head between his ears, and his tail thumped.
The buzzer sounded in the kitchen, sending the pup into a barking fit as he raced to the apartment door.
She followed and pressed the intercom. “Julian?”
“Hey, Vivi.” His voice squawked through the speaker. “You ready?”
“Almost. Come on up.” She buzzed him into the lobby and sped back to the bedroom for one last hair fluff and a lipstick application.
When he rapped knuckles on her door a few minutes later, she was ready. She pulled open the door, and he stepped back, eyes wide.
“Wow. Vivi, you look great!” His gaze scanned from head to toe, and a lazy grin stretched his lips.
“Thanks. So do you.” And he did. But then, she considered as she pulled her black wool dress coat out of the closet, his looks had never been in contention between them.
Beowulf, not happy to be ignored, yipped and bounced in the doorway, tail wagging at hyper speed.
“Hey, boy.” He bent and petted the pup’s head.
Meanwhile, Vivi grabbed her black beaded clutch and checked the contents. Satisfied, she nodded at Julian. “Let’s do it.”
The phone rang as they headed out the door, and Julian paused in the hall. “You wanna get that?”
“Nope.” She smiled. “That’s what voicemail is for.” She twisted the key in the deadbolt, heard the beep, followed by Bass’s voice.
“ Vivi? I know you’re mad and I want to explain. Please. Don’t go anywhere. I’m on my way over.”
Too late, Bass . Dropping her keys in her clutch, she took Julian’s arm. “All set.”
She’d talk to Bass tomorrow. Maybe. Tonight might be Friday the thirteenth, but she’d push her luck and roll the dice.
****
This year’s affair was at a restaurant inside Central Park with some of the most romantic views in Manhattan. Since tomorrow was Valentine’s Day, the dining room was decked in red velvet bows, gold Cupids, and lots of sparkle.
After checking their coats, Julian took her hand and led her into the bar area where a circle of formally-dressed people loitered over drinks. Vivi recognized several former coworkers and wondered how they’d react to seeing her in their midst again. She swallowed her fluttering heart, then forced herself to stand tall.
“Bruno!” one of the group shouted and stepped aside to make room so the newly arrived couple could stand among them. “What are we drinking tonight?”
Julian cocked his head at Vivi. “Champagne?”
Not her favorite, and he knew it. He probably wanted to impress the crowd with his air of sophistication. So, okay. She
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