flanked either side of a huge white marble reception desk, white couches with curling gold legs dotted the lobby, and huge crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling.
Alyssa’s mouth dropped as she took it all in.
“Mr. Billingsley likes things gaudy,” Jay said. “Not my style, but you know, it has its charms.”
Alyssa walked to the reception desk, deciding to ignore Jay Havens. She had no reason to feel so nervous around him. In fact, he should be the one feeling nervous around her! He should be kissing her ass and feeling anxious about what she was going to write about him. She considered taking a pen and paper out of her bag and pretending to write something down about him to throw him off his game, but she decided that might be going a little too far.
“Hello,” she said to the receptionist, a pretty twenty-something girl with red hair.
“I’m Alyssa Cotler. I’m here to see Mr. Billingsley.”
The girl looked down at the appointment book in front of her. “Yes,” she said. “I see you had a two o’clock appointment. Unfortunately, Mr. Billingsley isn’t here right now.”
“So I heard,” Alyssa said. “Any idea when he’ll be back?”
The girl shrugged. “Could be a few minutes, could be tomorrow.” She pointed to one of the gaudy white couches that was pushed up against the floor to ceiling windows.
“You can wait there, if you’d like.”
Alyssa felt her heart sink. She was exhausted from the train ride from Boston, her feet were killing her, and she needed a shower. All she could think about was how nice it would be to curl up back in her hotel room. She looked at the couch in the corner. It looked very uncomfortable, like one of those couches where you had to sit ramrod straight and even then sometimes ended up with a backache.
Before she could figure out what to do, she caught sight of Jay, watching her from the corner, that same arrogant smile playing on his lips. She turned her back on him and walked over to the couch in the corner, mentally preparing some headlines in her head.
“Brooklyn Heat Playboy Just As Much Of A Jerk As Thought” or something like that.
Obviously, it would have to be punchier, but –
Her Blackberry started ringing from the depths of her new bag, a Tommy Hilfiger she’d gotten at TJ Maxx for thirty-nine ninety-nine. She thought it would seem hip and sophisticated, but one look around the city and she realized it was horribly out of place.
The women here were all carrying very expensive bags, like Louis Vuitton or some other designers that Alyssa had never heard of. The ones that weren’t were carrying vintage bags that looked ugly but Alyssa was sure were actually quite stylish.
Not only was her purse not NYC-worthy, it also wasn’t good for her Blackberry, since the bag was so big that Alyssa had to root around for what seemed like forever before she found her phone.
“Hello?” she said breathlessly, taking a few steps toward the windows and away from the watchful eyes of Jay Havens. What was his problem anyway? Didn’t he have somewhere to be? A baseball practice or a blackjack table or a strip club or something?
“Alyssa,” her boss, Isobel, barked into the phone. “Just checking in. Are you there?”
“Yes,” she said. “I’m here. And there’s been a little bit of a – ”
“You in with Billingsley yet?”
“No,” Alyssa said. She was starting to get a headache. “That’s what I was trying to tell you. He’s not here.”
“What do you mean he’s not there?” Isobel sounded shocked.
“I mean he’s not here. He missed our meeting. At least, I think he did, he – ”
“Well, then get out of there!” Isobel said, now gleeful. “He missed the meeting, end of story.” Isobel was an okay boss, although she talked too much and was always interrupting. She was also bullheaded and stubborn, and she was hoping that this story was going to be something that painted the Brooklyn Heat and their
Alyssa’s mouth dropped as she took it all in.
“Mr. Billingsley likes things gaudy,” Jay said. “Not my style, but you know, it has its charms.”
Alyssa walked to the reception desk, deciding to ignore Jay Havens. She had no reason to feel so nervous around him. In fact, he should be the one feeling nervous around her! He should be kissing her ass and feeling anxious about what she was going to write about him. She considered taking a pen and paper out of her bag and pretending to write something down about him to throw him off his game, but she decided that might be going a little too far.
“Hello,” she said to the receptionist, a pretty twenty-something girl with red hair.
“I’m Alyssa Cotler. I’m here to see Mr. Billingsley.”
The girl looked down at the appointment book in front of her. “Yes,” she said. “I see you had a two o’clock appointment. Unfortunately, Mr. Billingsley isn’t here right now.”
“So I heard,” Alyssa said. “Any idea when he’ll be back?”
The girl shrugged. “Could be a few minutes, could be tomorrow.” She pointed to one of the gaudy white couches that was pushed up against the floor to ceiling windows.
“You can wait there, if you’d like.”
Alyssa felt her heart sink. She was exhausted from the train ride from Boston, her feet were killing her, and she needed a shower. All she could think about was how nice it would be to curl up back in her hotel room. She looked at the couch in the corner. It looked very uncomfortable, like one of those couches where you had to sit ramrod straight and even then sometimes ended up with a backache.
Before she could figure out what to do, she caught sight of Jay, watching her from the corner, that same arrogant smile playing on his lips. She turned her back on him and walked over to the couch in the corner, mentally preparing some headlines in her head.
“Brooklyn Heat Playboy Just As Much Of A Jerk As Thought” or something like that.
Obviously, it would have to be punchier, but –
Her Blackberry started ringing from the depths of her new bag, a Tommy Hilfiger she’d gotten at TJ Maxx for thirty-nine ninety-nine. She thought it would seem hip and sophisticated, but one look around the city and she realized it was horribly out of place.
The women here were all carrying very expensive bags, like Louis Vuitton or some other designers that Alyssa had never heard of. The ones that weren’t were carrying vintage bags that looked ugly but Alyssa was sure were actually quite stylish.
Not only was her purse not NYC-worthy, it also wasn’t good for her Blackberry, since the bag was so big that Alyssa had to root around for what seemed like forever before she found her phone.
“Hello?” she said breathlessly, taking a few steps toward the windows and away from the watchful eyes of Jay Havens. What was his problem anyway? Didn’t he have somewhere to be? A baseball practice or a blackjack table or a strip club or something?
“Alyssa,” her boss, Isobel, barked into the phone. “Just checking in. Are you there?”
“Yes,” she said. “I’m here. And there’s been a little bit of a – ”
“You in with Billingsley yet?”
“No,” Alyssa said. She was starting to get a headache. “That’s what I was trying to tell you. He’s not here.”
“What do you mean he’s not there?” Isobel sounded shocked.
“I mean he’s not here. He missed our meeting. At least, I think he did, he – ”
“Well, then get out of there!” Isobel said, now gleeful. “He missed the meeting, end of story.” Isobel was an okay boss, although she talked too much and was always interrupting. She was also bullheaded and stubborn, and she was hoping that this story was going to be something that painted the Brooklyn Heat and their
Similar Books
