“So romantic,” the saleswoman says. “Congratulations. You make quite the couple.”
My air has returned, and with it my ability to move. I smile at her and turn quickly to walk down the steps and into the dressing room where I don’t look at myself again until I have the dress off and my old jeans and sweater back on my body. That dress is too elegant for somebody like me. I don’t know whatever possessed me to try it on in the first place.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“I‘m full,” I say as we finish up our dinner at a Mexican restaurant overlooking the water in Marina Del Rey.
Dylan hands the waiter a wad of cash.
“Dylan, let me pay you for half.”
“Nope,” he says. “I invited you to L.A., and I know you weren’t necessarily thrilled with the idea, so this is my treat.”
We leave the table and walk toward the back exit. Dylan has a Dodgers hat on, pulled low in hopes of avoiding being recognized. It seems to have worked. Either that, or it’s the fact that the owner placed us in a booth so far removed from the rest of the room that we’re almost impossible to see.
“That’s the first time no one’s asked you for an autograph or a photo in all the restaurants we’ve been to together,” I say.
“Relief,” is all he says as he puts his arm around me. “Let’s go pick up your cats.”
* * *
Bessie and Balaster are in their carriers in the back seat when we reach Dylan’s downtown apartment for a quick tour before returning to Malibu. I’d snuck a note under Rosita’s door so she wouldn’t think they’d been kidnapped. She texted me five minutes later that she was in the laundry room and couldn’t believe she missed us.
Dylan pulls into the underground parking garage and opens his door.
“Should I leave the kitties in the car?” I ask him.
“Bring them in with us,” he says. “This parking lot is all underground. I wouldn’t want to leave them.”
He carries Bessie’s carrier and I hold Balaster’s as we walk through the lobby toward the elevators.
“Good evening, Mr. Wild,” the doorman says to Dylan before turning to me. “Madam, good evening.”
“Hello, Raul.” Dylan smiles. “How are you?”
Raul’s gaze darts to the cats in their carriers, but Dylan keeps walking, so I follow.
“Are pets allowed here?” I ask once the elevator doors close behind us.
“I don’t know,” Dylan says. “We’re not staying overnight, though.”
When we reach the top floor, Dylan leads me out of the elevator and down the hall to the very end.
“You’ve got a corner apartment! Those are the best ones.” I’ve always wanted one of those.
Dylan unlocks the door. “Yeah. It’s cool.” He ushers me ahead of him and puts Bessie’s carrier on the floor before unzipping it. “Go ahead. Put Balaster down anywhere.”
As soon as I open the carrier, Balaster’s on the move. In unison, he and Bessie go skidding across the hardwood floors and right up onto the beautiful black couch in the center of Dylan’s living room.
“No!” I race over to grab them, but Dylan touches my arm.
“It’s fine, babe, really. I like having them here. A little fur is the last thing I’m worried about.”
He takes my hand and leads me into the bedroom. The massive bed is covered with a maroon and beige comforter, and the headboard is made of a dark fabric. The ceilings are cathedral, giving the room the appearance of grandeur.
“Wow. This is amazing.”
“I’ve wanted to take you up here since we met.”
