“I’m fine. Just…mortified after seeing what I look like.”
“Even makeup down your cheeks doesn’t make you less attractive. Trust me, it pisses me off.” He paused. “Open up, if you’re decent. I have an extra toothbrush, if you want it.”
I unlocked the door and took the toothbrush and toothpaste. Jagger looked down at my shirt—hisshirton me. I’d tied it at the waist and rolled up the sleeves. He shook his head and grumbled, “Looks better on you.”
A few minutes later, I emerged with a scrubbed face and minty breath. I found Jagger staring out the window with a glass of amber liquid in his hand. His feet were set wide in a power stance I really liked. He looked lost in thought, but more than that, he looked lonely. It made me wonder if he’d even enjoyed his time with the blonde. I walked over and stood with him. “Where did your date go?”
“What date?”
“The tall blonde?”
He squinted at me before recognition dawned on his face. “You mean Marla?”
I shrugged. “I wouldn’t know her name.”
“If you’re referring to the woman I walked into the building with tonight, her name is Marla Emerson. She runs the London Apex office. We keep a guest apartment in the building for when executives from our other offices come to town.”
“Oh.” As if vomiting on myself wasn’t bad enough. “Sorry. The way you touched her seemed familiar, and I just thought…”
“It should be familiar by now. Marla and I have known each other for twenty-five years. My mother had some mental-health issues when I was growing up. She went in and out of the hospital a lot, so Marla’s parents becamemy foster parents. I stayed with them during the times my mom wasn’t able to take care of me.”
“I’m sorry.” I paused, unsure what else to say. “I hope she’s okay now. Your mom, I mean.”
He went back to staring out the window. “How are you feeling? Has your stomach settled?”
“I think so. On the positive side, getting sick seems to have sobered me up. It was stupid of me to drink as much as I did, especially when I hadn’t eaten anything.” I paused. “Can I ask you something?”
“Do I need to set a five-minute timer?”
I smiled. “I don’t think so. Maybe we can just ask what we feel like asking without the pressure of the clock.”
“What’s your question?”
“What made you come to the happy hour tonight?”
He looked over at me. “It’s my company. Am I not allowed to attend?”
“Of course you can. I just heard you usually don’t.”
His eyes swept over my face. “I went to pick up the dinner I ordered from a restaurant and saw you in the bar through the window.”
“Before or after you picked up your food?”
“Before.”
“Oh my God. So you’ve been taking care of me while your dinner is waiting for you and getting cold?”
“It’s fine. Is it my turn now?”
“Turn?”
“To ask a question.”
“Oh. Sure.”
Jagger caught my eye. “Were you really looking for a hook-up tonight?”
“Would it bother you if I was?”
