But Marie is soft, feminine…and completely doesn’t fit with the ball buster who all but kicked me out of my Lyft two minutes ago.
The car rolls forward a couple of inches and I realize I didn’t answer.
“Marie is my wife,” I lie, moving to the back door and reaching for the handle. I cast a surreptitious glance around, lest I steal a random Marie’s car, but considering the sidewalk is empty, my instincts—and maybe the devil inside me—are telling me that I can take this leap.
I tug open the door, continue lying, “I really need to get around to making my own account, but you know how it is.”
The driver chuckles and pulls away from the curb.
And…I’m committing a crime.
Well, I suppose that Marie committed a crime first.
Yup, the cops are going to love that when I’m popped for a stalking charge. I can see the headlines now?—
Genen-core CEO arrested in San Francisco.
Jace Henderson, CEO and world’s newest billionaire, detained on stalking charges.
Mediocre, middle-aged white dude acts like a creep.
Okay, so the last may be less headline and more reality.
Minus the mediocre part.
And middle-aged.
I’m not even thirty-five.
Did I find a gray hair the other day? Maybe. Was it my first one? No.
Do I have to consume less beer and hit it harder in the gym so my custom suits continue to fit? Yup.
Am I allowing a bunch of useless thoughts to swirl through my head?
Also…yup.
Better to think about nonsense than worry about the dismaying number of errors my executive team has made of late.
Better to think about nonsense than worry about stalking charges pressed by a feisty brunette named Marie.
Better to?—
The car pulls to a stop and I blink, head swiveling, eyebrows pulling together in confusion.
At least until I spot that spicy brown-haired woman getting out ofmyLyft.
Marching up to the front doors ofmybuilding.
“All good?” the driver asks and I jerk myself out of my surprise—out of the growing realization that what I thought was merely a chance meeting is going to be something far more.
I watch the sleek emerald silk of her dress flirt with her lush ass as she stalks up to the entrance.
Yeah.
Far,farmore.
“All good,” I say, unbuckling and sliding out of the back seat. “Thanks, man.”
