She shook her head. "A lady needs her secrets, Cal."
I mentally sifted through every cardiothoracic surgeon I knew as we left the bathroom, desperate to find one who could pick up my case and let me see the night out with this woman. Couldn't find one. That wasn't accurate. There were several but none who would handle it the way I would and I didn't know how to get past that issue.
I held Stella's hand as I locked the apartment door behind me and headed through the small vestibule. "Is your phone handy? I'll put my number in there," I said, holding the front door open for her. "Or is that one of your secrets?"
She squeezed my fingers. "Give me my hand back and I'll get my phone."
Before I could respond with an offer to dig through her pockets, I found my colleague and neighbor Alex and her fiancé Riley staring up at us from the sidewalk. "Oh. Hey," I called, lifting my hand in a quick wave.
"Yeah," Alex replied. "Hey."
"Is this what you were telling me about?" Riley asked Alex.
She bobbed her head. "Yeah, I think so." She smiled at Stella. "Where are your manners, Hartshorn? Introduce us."
I pointed at them, saying, "Alex Emmerling. Riley Walsh. This is Stella. Stella, these are my neighbors."
"Sorry, we're androgynously named." The gastro surgeon held her hand up. "I'm Alex. He's Riley."
Stella laughed. "That's helpful, thank you."
"I'm the only person in the building who isn't a doctor so that makes me easier to remember," Riley said. "If you need to remodel a house, give me a holler."
"Also helpful," Stella replied.
Alex touched her fingertips to her lips, pausing a moment. "I feel like I've heard so much about you," she said. "All good, of course. Great. The best. This guy can't stop talking about you."
"Emmerling," I warned.
"I'm just so happy you're a real person," Alex continued. "Not that I thought you weren't but you're so pretty and you were obviously in his apartment just now and—"
"Is she drunk?" I asked Riley.
"—and after the story I heard this morning I wasn't sure what was going to happen—"
He held up his hands. "The champagne never stops flowing when you're getting married." He shrugged. "And I love it when she babbles. It's adorable." He stared at Alex. "Honeybee, you're beautiful and I love everything you do but I think Hartshorn's head is going to explode if you keep embarrassing him in front of the woman he's obviously trying to impress."
Alex's eyebrows pinched upward. "He'll survive." She gestured toward Stella. "I'm not usually this chatty but you are lovely and he is one of the best guys and I want good things to happen. I hope to see you again."
"Absolutely," Stella agreed.
She said it in a way that made me believe she was interested in getting to know my friends. Like she intended to see me again. That was the real mystery here, wasn't it? Whether the bubble would burst and everything would change tomorrow. I couldn't explain why but it seemed we only had today to get this right.
She shifted to face me. "Tomorrow morning. Right?"
Regardless of the audience before me, I drove my fingers through Stella's hair and brought her lips to mine. Her arousal still lingered on my tongue and I was certain she could taste it too. I liked that. Another thing I didn't understand but thoroughly enjoyed.
"Tomorrow," I whispered. "And we'll go as slow as you want, sweet thing. I know how to wait."
She patted my chest as a smile turned up her lips. Her dimples popped and I was powerless. "Yes, it seems that you do."
12
Stella
It didn't makesense but I checked my phone one more time. Cal wasn't calling. He couldn't. He didn't have my number and I was the one who had to dash off to my Uber like Cinderella at the stroke of midnight without having the presence of mind to slow down and exchange info.
It was ridiculous, really. I had everyone's phone number. Every reporter and radio host and all their bookers, the television commentators and the bloggers, the agents and managers, and personal assistants and security details. Even the governor of a certain southern state who was a closeted Yankees fan.
