“Yeah, well, I just hope she still thinks it’s romantic in the harsh light of day and not completely out there.” She held up her coffee cups. “Thought I’d hedge my bets with caffeine. Nobody can resist a woman who comes bearing morning coffee, right?”
It was oddly comforting to discover that even international pop stars had morning-after anxiety.
The barista finished Eliza’s flat white with an elaborate leaf design that seemed far too cheerful for my current emotional state.
“Tell me,” Roka continued, “why were you so cagey about being together when we first met? I mean, you know I’m queer, I wasn’t going to judge.”
I considered telling her the truth for approximately two seconds before my self-preservation instincts kicked in. We were in business together, not having a therapy session.
“It’s complicated.” Which wasn’t a lie. “There’s history. I wasn’t sure where we stood.”
“Fair enough.” She paused. “For what it’s worth, you look good together. Plus, you inspired me. I wasn’t going to make a move on Sasha, but then I thought, fuck it. Life’s short. So here we are. Two coffee warriors tending to our women.”
Our women.
Christ on a bike.
“Good luck,” I told her. “I hope the morning coffee strategy pays off.”
She went to walk away, then turned back. “Oh, and I know we both have to head home today, so nudge your legal team. Let’s sort the details quickly though. I’m playing a bunch of festivals starting in a few weeks, the album launches on July 23rd, then everything gets a lot more tricky.” She paused. “I can’t wait to see the first watch.”
Another excellent reason why I couldn’t spend the next few weeks having earth-shattering sex with my business partner. Roka could make or break Voss Watches’ future, and I needed every functioning brain cell focused on that opportunity. Roka’s album launch signalled the end of my first three months. A time to think about how far I’d come.
“Absolutely,” I said. “I’ll make it quick and painless, I promise.”
Now I just had to work out how to apply that philosophy to whatever the hell was happening between me and Eliza.
CHAPTER 22
When I made it back, Eliza was sat up in bed, the sheet placed in a way that was definitely not helping my new-found commitment to keeping things more professional. Her tits were perky and seemed to whisper “good morning” as I walked in. I did my best not to trip up and fall face-first into them.
“Coffee delivery,” I announced, aiming for casual and probably landing somewhere around mildly unhinged.
“You’re a goddess.” She got on all fours —really not helping— and reached for her drink as I set it down on her bedside table. “I was just lying here wondering if it’s possible to die from dehydration. And also wondering if you’d run off home having realised what a terrible error you made last night.”
Her words were light, but I knew there was an edge to them. I glanced up, brave enough to meet her gaze.
“Is that what you think?” If she said yes, I wasn’t sure what face I was going to pull. I didn’t regret it. But I knew we had to talk about it.
She shook her head almost before I’d finished my question. “No. Not at all.”
Okay.
Well,okay.
I took a steadying breath. We had a lot of things to work out. But we had all day. So long as Eliza put some clothes on, everything might be fine.
Emphasis onmight.
She settled back under the covers, took a sip of her coffee and made a noise that reminded me exactly why I was in this mess. Then she patted the empty space beside her.
“You’ve got far too many clothes on. Why don’t you get undressed and come back to bed to have coffee and pastries.”
Pastries? Last I heard, we didn’t have any pastries.
But ever eager, Eliza jumped out of bed. I was learning she was very comfortable being naked, and that I was very comfortable with her being so.
She grabbed a basket of pastries I hadn’t seen before.
