“Actually, come to think of it, she called Fran saying she was upset, so we came back so Fran could check on her.” I finish putting on my shoes and take out my briefcase to sort through some notes.
“Maybe I was too hot to handle,” Caleb says with a laugh that’s quickly followed by a frown. “I don’t know, we were having a good time. I’ll ask her again when I see her today. So what happened with you?”
“Just another day in the life,” I say nonchalantly. “First I got stuck in the elevator with a gorgeous woman, and then we went for a motorcycle ride and I cooked her dinner.”
“Wait, back up,” Caleb orders, a stunned look in his pale blue eyes. “You cooked? No Chinese takeout? And when was the last time you even rode that motorcycle I’ve been begging you to sell to me?”
I drop a stack of papers on the bed that suddenly don’t seem all that important, and take a seat on the couch. “There’s something about her Caleb. She makes me want to step outside myself. It’s like…I don’t know…like she’s one big dare to who I am. And you know how I respond to dares.”
“Well, she’s definitely fiery,” Caleb agrees, before standing up and sliding on his suit jacket. “It’s good for you. You need to break out, stop alphabetizing all your shit.” He chuckles and I sneer at him. “Before I forget, do you want to drive over to my parents’ after the conference for a little bit? My mom called me last night and she’s ready to divorce my dad. He’s exceptionally crabby still and she’s having a hard time. She hinted at having her sons over.”
I love the fact that Caleb’s mom refers to me as her son because for years I’ve considered her a second mother. No one can ever replace mine, but Mrs. Brody definitely comes close. The amount of times she’s been there to hold my hand and offer a hug or advice, starting when I was a gawky sixteen-year old until now, means that I owe her my life. This is the least I can do for her.
“Absolutely,” I reply, “and why don’t we stop and pick up one of those apple pies your dad likes from that bake shop over on Beverly Boulevard, maybe that’ll put him in better spirits.”
“That sounds good. Thanks.” Caleb makes a beeline for the door. “Let’s get out of here. I want to seek out my sex goddess.”
And I want to go find my little spark.
Chapter Twenty-One – Fran – Note slinger
The Los Angeles sun glows brightly through the floor-to-ceiling windows in my room and I don’t want to open my eyes. I know it’s time to get up even though my alarm hasn’t gone off yet, but my dream about Matt was too good and I don’t want it to end. I lift his t-shirt to my nose and inhale, still smelling his fresh scent. My fingers go to my lips, recalling the way he kissed me…in my head. I let out a frustrated sigh and stretch my tired muscles. I’d give anything to stay in bed just a little bit longer and daydream about Matt.
I’m showered, dressed, and ready to head down to breakfast in thirty-five minutes, which is a record for me. I’ll admit to spending a little more time in front of the mirror than usual. A little extra lip gloss, some eyeliner to make my eyes pop, and a tad more color on my cheeks. I towel-dried my hair, too, to give it a little wave. I’m leaving it down today, especially since Matt was running his fingers through it in my dream. I look at my reflection and laugh. I’m being ridiculous but even I can’t deny that ridiculous feels good.
I throw on a thin strand of pearls, grab my portfolio, and stroll out to the elevators. I stop halfway down the hall, deciding to take the stairs, but then realize that would be twenty-two flights and while I’m in shape, it would be killer in heels. Instead, I ride the elevator down to the first floor and hold my breath the entire way, releasing it only once I’ve stepped off.
The banquet hall is set up in the traditional conference style with long, rectangular tables covered in white tablecloths. There are ten rows that seat about fifteen people to a table and carafes of water situated in the center located at every other seat. To the left of the tables is a breakfast area, complete with assorted foods: bagels, fruit, croissants, danishes, and a variety of juices.
My stomach is making wild noises and begging to be fed, so I snatch a plate and start piling food onto it. There’s no way I’ll get through the morning without fortification. Only a few people have arrived thus far, allowing me to have my choice of seats, and I pick one in the middle of the room.
Peyton wanders in a few minutes later and I wave her over in between bites of pastry. “Hey, you got down here early,” she says, taking off her suit jacket and hanging it on the chair.
I swallow a chunk of danish and chase it with some orange juice. “I woke up so I figured I’d get an early start.” It sounds good even though I know I’m completely transparent.
She takes a seat next to me, a slow smile building on her lips. “Is that so?”
“Yup,” I reply, emphasizing the P while stuffing part of another danish in my mouth.
“Whatever you say,” she mumbles, before getting up to grab a plate of food.
I look around the room every few minutes, more like seconds, wondering where Matt is. I hope he didn’t get stuck in another elevator. That would really suck. I continue to sneak glances at the door until Peyton returns.
“Who are you looking for, Fran?” she asks, setting her food on the table.
I fuss with the strand of pearls around my neck. “No one.”
“Well.” She smiles, buttering her bagel and edging closer to me. “No one isn’t here yet, and neither is Caleb.”
The right side of my mouth slants up and I go back to shoveling food in while waiting patiently for the conference to start, and not so patiently for Matt to arrive.
They start promptly at nine and there are a couple of speakers from design and architectural firms in London and Chicago communicating about design as inspiration. It’s only mildly interesting and I’m having a hard time focusing anyway, the strangest feeling coming over me, my back suddenly warm, my body on hyper alert. I casually scratch my shoulder with my chin and look back to find Matt wearing a dimpled smile and holding an index card in his hand with the words “Good morning sunshine” in bold, black letters. I grin, my dimple making a grand appearance.
Ripping off a piece of paper from the pad sitting in front of me, I scrawl, “Good morning tight-ass” in blue pen. I can’t believe I’m about to do this, but it was fun when I did it in middle school, so what the hell. “Hey, Peyton, where’s the bathroom?” I ask in a whisper.
“It’s outside and down the hall to the right.”
“Thanks. I’ll be right back.”
I stand up and walk to the back of the room, slinging the note onto Matt’s lap as I pass by him. The sound of his chuckling puts a smile on my face. When I reach the hallway, I let out several quick breaths. Did I really just do that? Yes, I did, and I loved every minute of it.
Since I’m out here, I decide I better make a trip to the bathroom. Once inside, I stop at the sink and brace my hands on the counter, staring at the person looking back at me from the mirror, the one I don’t recognize right now. The one who is being spontaneous. The one who knows that in ten days she’ll be back in New York and none of this will matter. I like this girl. I told myself I’d have fun while I was here and that’s what I fully intend to do.
I finish in the bathroom and open the door to find Matt leaning against the wall, his arms folded across his chest, a grin sitting upon his lips.
“Hey.”