she’d agreed to go out with
him. She didn’t meet their eyes again before they left the bakery.
She was going to have dinner with Brandon.
Cecile would lose it when she heard.
Morgan considered how Cecile would make her move now, on
either Ethan or Mark. Morgan frowned at the thought. Didn’t like the idea.
Didn’t like it at all.
Her reaction surprised her. She’d made her choice. And yet
--
Maybe she wouldn’t tell Cecile about Brandon right away.
One never knew. It might not work out.
Ridiculous. She couldn’t go out with one of his friends if
it didn’t work out with him. What was she thinking?
Still, Cecile didn’t need to know everything about her life.
Not yet, anyway.
____________________
She was afraid it would be awkward when Brandon and the
others came to the bakery for lunch the next day, so she spent most of the time
in the kitchen, sending her excuses to the table with Cecile.
Brandon texted her. “Changed mind about dinner? Avoiding me
from fear of indigestion?”
She texted back. “Too early in relationship for you to
expect reassurance of your culinary aptitude before I’ve even tasted your
cooking.”
His response chimed in. “My ego is the only part of me I’ll
never expect you to stroke -- I swear.”
Oh my. The kitchen seemed warmer than normal.
She spoke to him and the others only briefly before they
left. Brandon mouthed a “see you tonight” at her. She’d nodded in return.
The rest of the day passed slowly, and Cecile pestered
Morgan about acting oddly, as if she had a secret. Morgan told Cecile she was
nuts.
Morgan closed the bakery at the usual hour then headed home
to shower and change for her evening. She forced herself not to over think her
hairstyle, her clothes, her makeup. For the most part, she was successful.
At precisely seven-thirty, she stood outside the address
Brandon had given her, a stylish, well-maintained older building,
multi-storied. She gave her name at the front desk and the security guard
buzzed up to Brandon’s place before showing her to the elevator.
It was a very nice building. The gym Brandon owned with his
friends must be doing well if he could afford an apartment on the top floor of
this building.
Brandon met her outside the door to his place. He looked
more than fine, dressed in an immaculately-cut suit, with an open-necked shirt
underneath, giving the impression of combined elegance and ease. His dark hair
was rakishly smoothed away from his face.
He smiled when he saw her, and took both her hands in his
own before leaning down and giving her a soft kiss on her cheek. He smelled of
mint and spicy, masculine cologne. “You’re here. Finally.”
“I’m sorry.” She looked down at her watch. “Am I late?”
“No. I’ve just been wanting this for a long time. And now
you’re here. At last. You look absolutely beautiful. That dress is ... wow.”
She returned his smile, couldn’t think of anything to say.
It wasn’t necessary that she speak. He took her purse from
her and set it on a table inside the apartment, then he shut the door. He held
out an arm to her and she placed her hand on his solid forearm, a question in
her gaze.
He led her down the hall, toward a different door. When he
held it open for her, she saw it hid a set of stairs going up. She walked up
the narrow steps to a landing, then stopped in front of another door.
The roof. It was apparent that’s where they were headed,
since Brandon’s apartment was on the top floor. Brandon threw open the door and
gestured for Morgan to lead the way. Sure enough, she stepped out onto the
roof. And into a fairyland.
Party lights were strung back and forth across a large
square of roof, the colored lights emitting a soft glow over the area. Tall,
potted tropical plants lined two sides of the space, making the interior space
seem like an enclosed jungle grotto that overlooked a sparkling city stretching
away into the distance. It was lovely.
And
him. She didn’t meet their eyes again before they left the bakery.
She was going to have dinner with Brandon.
Cecile would lose it when she heard.
Morgan considered how Cecile would make her move now, on
either Ethan or Mark. Morgan frowned at the thought. Didn’t like the idea.
Didn’t like it at all.
Her reaction surprised her. She’d made her choice. And yet
--
Maybe she wouldn’t tell Cecile about Brandon right away.
One never knew. It might not work out.
Ridiculous. She couldn’t go out with one of his friends if
it didn’t work out with him. What was she thinking?
Still, Cecile didn’t need to know everything about her life.
Not yet, anyway.
____________________
She was afraid it would be awkward when Brandon and the
others came to the bakery for lunch the next day, so she spent most of the time
in the kitchen, sending her excuses to the table with Cecile.
Brandon texted her. “Changed mind about dinner? Avoiding me
from fear of indigestion?”
She texted back. “Too early in relationship for you to
expect reassurance of your culinary aptitude before I’ve even tasted your
cooking.”
His response chimed in. “My ego is the only part of me I’ll
never expect you to stroke -- I swear.”
Oh my. The kitchen seemed warmer than normal.
She spoke to him and the others only briefly before they
left. Brandon mouthed a “see you tonight” at her. She’d nodded in return.
The rest of the day passed slowly, and Cecile pestered
Morgan about acting oddly, as if she had a secret. Morgan told Cecile she was
nuts.
Morgan closed the bakery at the usual hour then headed home
to shower and change for her evening. She forced herself not to over think her
hairstyle, her clothes, her makeup. For the most part, she was successful.
At precisely seven-thirty, she stood outside the address
Brandon had given her, a stylish, well-maintained older building,
multi-storied. She gave her name at the front desk and the security guard
buzzed up to Brandon’s place before showing her to the elevator.
It was a very nice building. The gym Brandon owned with his
friends must be doing well if he could afford an apartment on the top floor of
this building.
Brandon met her outside the door to his place. He looked
more than fine, dressed in an immaculately-cut suit, with an open-necked shirt
underneath, giving the impression of combined elegance and ease. His dark hair
was rakishly smoothed away from his face.
He smiled when he saw her, and took both her hands in his
own before leaning down and giving her a soft kiss on her cheek. He smelled of
mint and spicy, masculine cologne. “You’re here. Finally.”
“I’m sorry.” She looked down at her watch. “Am I late?”
“No. I’ve just been wanting this for a long time. And now
you’re here. At last. You look absolutely beautiful. That dress is ... wow.”
She returned his smile, couldn’t think of anything to say.
It wasn’t necessary that she speak. He took her purse from
her and set it on a table inside the apartment, then he shut the door. He held
out an arm to her and she placed her hand on his solid forearm, a question in
her gaze.
He led her down the hall, toward a different door. When he
held it open for her, she saw it hid a set of stairs going up. She walked up
the narrow steps to a landing, then stopped in front of another door.
The roof. It was apparent that’s where they were headed,
since Brandon’s apartment was on the top floor. Brandon threw open the door and
gestured for Morgan to lead the way. Sure enough, she stepped out onto the
roof. And into a fairyland.
Party lights were strung back and forth across a large
square of roof, the colored lights emitting a soft glow over the area. Tall,
potted tropical plants lined two sides of the space, making the interior space
seem like an enclosed jungle grotto that overlooked a sparkling city stretching
away into the distance. It was lovely.
And
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