“Tell me about him,” she said suddenly.
“What about him?”
“How old is he?”
“He’s older,” I admitted.
“How much older?”
“A bit.”
“Evania.”
“Six years.”
She raised a brow. “And?”
“He runs a business.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “He sounds like a catch.”
“It’s just lunch,” I repeated.
“With his parents.”
"Sabrina."
“Fine,” she said finally. “Send me a picture before you leave.”
“I will.”
“And don’t try to be someone you’re not.”
I glanced at my reflection — at the composed version of myself staring back.
“I won’t,” I said.
That part, at least, I knew was true.
“Go make your good first impression,” she said.
“Thanks, Sabby.”
“Always.”
I hung up, smoothed the fabric of the dress, and took a steadying breath. The moment I grabbed my purse from the kitchen counter, my phone rang. I didn’t need to look at the screen to know who it was.
“Hello?” I tried to sound composed, but there was a smile tugging at my lips.
“I’m outside your building.”
Callahan’s voice was calm as always but there was something softer underneath it. I wondered if he was as nervous as I was before I shrugged off that idea.
“You are?” I hurried toward the door, nearly tripping over my own shoes. “I’ll be right there.”
“Take your time.”
The elevator ride down felt longer than usual. I caught my reflection in the mirrored walls, glad I was smart enough to ask Sabrina for help. When the elevator doors slid open, I stepped into the lobby and pushed through the glass doors.
