My face heated, and I shrugged. “I’m honestly not sure. Not anymore.”
* * *
At one thirty, I sat at my desk, completely defeated. After each of my meetings, I’d sent Frisco text after text, hoping to get him to respond, but he ignored me. I called him, and it went directly to voice mail.
Dammit.I pushed my hands through my hair.Think. What can you do?I could go downtown to his apartment, but no way would he let me in. It was driving me crazy.
Matt stuck his head into my doorway. “Want to get something to eat? We did have a date.”
The last thing I wanted was to sit across from him, listening to small talk and hearing him flirt.
“I’m sorry. Can I take a rain check?”
His mouth tightened, and his eyes, so pretty until now, turned disdainful. “Still pining after Francisco? Don’t bother. You, me, Connie in IT, and God knows how many others. I told you, he fucks anything that moves. I had my night with him. We should compare notes.”
“It wasn’t like that with us.” Thinking about Matt in bed with Frisco…my stomach turned.
He snorted, his laughter tinged with cruelty. This wasn’t the man with the sunny disposition who’d been flirting with me. “Don’t we all think that, honey. That man only cares about his dick and sticking it in as many people as he can. There’s only one person in his life he cares about other than himself, and that’s his best friend.”
“Oh, Presley?”
“He told you his name?” His brows shot up. “Well, yeah, I guess so. I once asked him if I could go with him on a review, and he said the only one who got that privilege was his best friend.”
“That makes sense. Why wouldn’t he go with someone he trusts? They’ve been friends their whole lives.”
Matt folded his arms. “Don’t mistake any of that attention to mean a damn thing. Once Francisco Martinelli gets in your pants, you’re done, like yesterday’s news. Move on.”
I met his hard eyes with a level stare of my own. “I’m not ready to do that yet, sorry.”
Matt rolled his eyes. “You’re foolish, but I’ll remember this conversation when you come crawling back.”
He pushed off the doorframe and walked away, and I forgot him as soon as he left my range of vision. What could I do to get Frisco to talk to me?
The only one he trusts is his best friend…
I rubbed my face with my hands, delving into my memory of the dinner Frisco and I had where we met his friend’s boyfriend…Nate…I closed my eyes, thinking…
Presley owns an antiques store on Amsterdam…
I grabbed my phone and jacket.
* * *
Bells tinkled overhead when I walked into Dawson Antiques, and a good-looking man around my age smiled from behind a glass counter filled with expensive jewelry.
“Hi. Can I help you with something in particular, or are you browsing?”
This had to be Frisco’s best friend, and I licked my suddenly dry lips, hoping I wasn’t about to come off like a crazy stalker.
“I hope so. Are you Presley?”
His brows rose slightly, and dark, curious eyes met mine. “I am. Presley Dawson. And you are?”
“Salvatore…I mean, Torre.” I halted, self-conscious. I’d assumed Frisco had mentioned me, but what if he didn’t and I was, like Matt had said, another one in a long line of bed partners? “I’m a friend of Frisco’s.”
I needn’t have worried. The half smile on Presley’s face morphed into a full-blown grin. “Torre. Holy shit. It’s great to meet you. Come on and sit down. Hold on a sec.” Presley ran to the front, flipped theOPEN sign to CLOSED, and returned to me.
“I’m so glad you came here. I’ve been dying to meet you, but you know Frisco, he’s so damn private. I’ve been waiting and hoping for us to get together, but he’s been keeping you to himself,” Presley rattled on, and I bit back my impatience.
