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Tilly
“Did you pass by a ridiculously hot man with black hair and blue eyes on your way up here?” I tug on the forearm of my best friend, Kate Wesley.
She steps into my apartment with a glance back over her shoulder. “No. Why?”
I take her purse and black trench coat from her before I hug her tightly. “It’s a long story.”
“I have time.” She steps back to look at me, her hazel eyes scanning my face. “I left my assistant manager in charge. She’ll handle the shop until I get back.”
I know how hard it must have been for her to leave her boutique, Katie Rose Bridal, in the middle of the afternoon.
She practically lives there. It’s where I met her six months ago when Maya invited me to go wedding dress shopping with her.
Maya didn’t find a dress that day, but I found a new best friend.
Kate and I have been close ever since.
I almost called her last night when I saw Sebastian nude, but Kate had a date and since she rarely ventures out with any man, I didn’t want to interrupt that or what could have been the morning after.
When I sent her a text message an hour ago asking about her date, she wrote back that it was a bust. That’s when I told her that I was back in Manhattan and had the surprise of my life when I got home.
She dropped everything to come over here to get the details face-to-face. Thankfully, Sebastian left just minutes before she arrived, otherwise I would have had to take Kate to the coffee shop down the block to get some privacy.
“Do you want some tea?” I start toward the kitchen.
“No, I’m good.” She brushes her hand over the side seam of her red sheath dress chasing away a wayward thread. “Why are you back already? I thought you were hanging out in San Francisco for a few more days.”
Kate was even more excited than I was when I booked my trip to the west coast. She’s originally from California too, although she hasn’t been back to the Golden State in years.
“I had enough family time. “ I laugh. “I love my folks and Frannie, but it was twenty-four seven. I needed a break.”
She nods softly. “I’m not going to complain that you cut your time with them short. I missed you like crazy.”
Kate’s boutique is only two blocks from where I work at Premier Pet Care. I take the short walk to see her during my lunch break at least a few times a week. If she’s not overwrought with bridal consultations, we usually grab a sandwich to share and eat in the office at the back of her store.
“I missed you too.” I squeeze her hand. “So your date last night wasn’t Prince Charming?”
She tugs on the tip of her long blonde ponytail as she shakes her head from side-to-side. “I knew immediately that we weren’t a great fit, but I stayed through dinner and then took off.”
I motion toward the black leather sofa that Maya bought when she first furnished this place. Our tastes are similar, so I haven’t had to change anything since I moved in. “They can’t all be perfect, right?”
She laughs. “I’d settle for half-perfect. It’s been forever since I met a guy I clicked with.”
I can say the same. I haven’t found any man worth investing my heart in since I moved to Manhattan. That’s not for lack of trying. I’ve been on more blind dates than I can count. I’ve used three different dating apps to try and match up with a guy who is a good fit for me. I’ve had dinner with men I’ve met at work and I even went on a lunch date with one of the real estate brokers that Maya knows.
I dated two of those men for a couple of months, but neither relationship amounted to anything substantial.
She settles on the sofa, crossing her legs at the knee. “Why did you ask about a hot black-haired, blue-eyed man? Did you spend the night with someone?”
I sit next to her and laugh. “Technically, I guess I did.”
She looks at me. “What kind of an answer is that? Did you or did you not spend the night with a man?”
A series of short, hard raps at the apartment door startles us both.
“Dammit,” I mutter under my breath as I push to my feet. “This is a doorman building. You’d think he could do his job.”
One of the reasons I jumped at the chance to move into Maya’s apartment when she moved out to live with Julian is because I viewed the doorman who stands watch in the lobby as extra security.
I had it all wrong.
All Junior, the doorman, does is stand around playing games on his phone while people march right past him on their way to the elevator. He must have missed the memo that explained that an integral part of his job is to phone the tenants to announce when a visitor has arrived.
I race across the room and swing the door open with a flourish.
“You’re not Sebastian.” A striking redheaded woman stares at me. “Who are you?”
“Who are you?” I counter because this is my apartment, which I think, affords me the right to ask the questions.
“I’m Wendy. Where’s Sebastian?”
“Who is Sebastian?” Kate asks from behind me.
I turn back to look at her. “My new room...”
“The man who has my panties,” Wendy interrupts as she pushes past me. “I want them back.”
