“I know. I couldn’t wait. Plus, I have a free day today. Now we have plans to spend time together twice this week.”
He’s slick. She had to give him credit for that. “How long have you been standing out here?”
“Fifteen minutes. I was starting to worry that you were eating at your desk. You’re usually so punctual.”
“I was reviewing medical records from a referring physician.” She looked up at his face and sucked in a deep breath as soon as their eyes met. There was an energy that ricocheted between them that she couldn’t explain, but it made her pulse race. “Why didn’t you call or text me? I wouldn’t have kept you waiting down here. It’s cold out today.”
“I don’t mind the cold. Besides, I didn’t want to call the physical therapy office, and you never gave me your personal number.”
She stumbled over her words. He hadn’t asked for it when they last saw one another, and he wasn’t asking for it now. At least not directly, and she realized that was probably intentional. He played it cool and let her take the initiative, just like he said. It certainly wasn’t something she was used to, and she appreciated his subtlety.
“Where are we going for lunch?” she asked.
“My car.”
“I can’t say I’ve ever been there before. It sounds very chic.”
“It is. It offers a very private dining experience.”
She expected his car to be in the lot that served her building, but he led her down the street and turned the corner. “Why did you park all the way over here?”
“The private dining experience,” he repeated.
The street was a cul-de-sac that led to a lovely park, and she could hear children’s laughter in the distance. There was a long, shiny, black limousine at the end, parallel to the park, and she realized that they were headed toward it. “A limo?” She stopped walking and turned to face him. “You’re taking me to lunch in a limo?”
“No. We’re having lunchinside the limo.”
Her brows pinched together in confusion, but she gave him a quirky smile, wondering what the hell he was up to.
“Come on.” He took her elbow, and they continued walking until the driver exited the vehicle and opened the back passenger-side door.
She peeked inside and saw that he’d prepared a picnic. A blanket covered the floor with big fluffy pillows. It was thoughtful and beautiful and the nicest thing any guy had ever done for her. And by the enticing smell of curry wafting from the interior of the vehicle, they were having Indian for lunch. It was her absolute favorite. Enamored with the idea of picnicking in the back of the limo, she immediately crawled into the vehicle. The floor poked her kneecaps and she almost lost one of her pumps, but she continued, rather ungracefully, until she flopped onto one of the big pillows next to a stack of take-out containers. “Which one is mine?” Not waiting for Robert to answer, she grabbed the container closest to her, flipped open the Styrofoam clamshell, and inhaled deeply. “This smells so good.”
Robert was still standing outside looking at her from the back of the vehicle with a silly smile.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Watching you. I can’t believe you just crawled on the floor with your skirt and heels.”
“I didn’t want to step on the blanket. How else was I supposed to get in here and eat my lunch?” She glanced at the cushion next to her. “And why aren’t you joining me?” As she ate a forkful of chicken smothered in coconut curry sauce, she realized that she could have been more refined instead of crawling on all fours like a tomboy.
He hopped into the car, and she couldn’t help noticing the ease in which he did so. An immensely satisfying and uplifting feeling penetrated her core with the knowledge she helped him recover. A small voice inside of her, her father’s voice, said that she was giving herself too much credit. She kicked it aside, annoyed that he still got in her head.
The car was warm and cozy, so she shimmied out of her short trench to get more comfortable and focused on her lunch. “Mmm. How did you know I love Indian food?”
He let out a small chuckle as he opened his lunch order. “Don’t get mad or take it the wrong way. OK?”
Her cheeks warmed as she stared at him, but the corners of her lips curled. “What is it?”
“You had it delivered one day for lunch and practically danced back to your office with the order. I was curious about what had you so excited and was going to ask you about it, but when you were doing my ultrasound treatment, I smelled curry on your breath. Because we were sitting so close.”
He added the last part quickly, before she had a chance to react, but she still covered her mouth with her hand, mortified that she had breathed curry on him. “I don’t always brush my teeth after lunch,” she admitted. “But I will from now on. And gargle. With air freshener.”
He chuckled. “I only picked it up because I was trying to inhale the scent of your hair.”
“You wanted to smell my hair?”
A shy nod replaced his usual confidence, and his voice came out in a low whisper. “Your hair. Your perfume.” He paused. “Your skin.”
