“What? Who is this man that’s shaken my bestie to her core?”
Do I tell her? Gabe’s famous. Sort-of. “Um, his name’s Gabe.”
“Oh, tell me more!” she implores. “Tell me all about the hot sex you had with this Gabe person.”
“Don’t you have work to do? We did just sell off a business yesterday. We need another to take its place.”
She sighs and sits down, getting comfy. “I’m not leaving until you tell me about Gabe.”
I purse my lips and sit behind my desk. “Shut the door.”
She gets up gracefully and practically prances to the door. As soon as it snicks shut, she says, “Now spill it!”
“So I met him, Gabe, at the hotel bar.”
“You what? Layla…” She doesn’t sound happy about it.
“I know how it sounds. It wasn’t like that.”
“Like what, exactly?”
“Well, for starters, he’s age appropriate.”
“And how do you know that?”
I clear my throat. “He’s got these sexy little streaks of gray at his temples.”
“Oh, yum!”
I nod. “And he’s, um, sort of famous. You can look him up.”
“OMG, Layla! Don’t hold out on me. What’s his last name?”
“Goldwyn. His name is Gabe Goldwyn.” And as soon as the words are out of my mouth, she’s pulling up his bio on her phone.
“You didn’t tell me he was such a stud! Those muscles, those tattoos, that ass!” she gushes, practically drooling over Gabe. Same, girl. Same.
I give her a look and she laughs. “You know how to pick ‘em!” she jokes, fanning her face. “I’d hit that!”
Of course she would. Any woman with a pulse would want to get with Gabe. “Funny,” I say sarcastically. “I probably won’t ever see him again, though.”
“Why?”
“His schedule is even busier than mine is. Gabe’s a professional baseball manager. He’s on the road for most of the year.”
“And why is that a bad thing? It sounds like a no-strings-attached kind of thing. Perfect for a woman like you.”
I shrug. Maybe. But I just don’t see how it could work. “I also left without saying goodbye.”
“You hit it and quit it.”
I nod. That’s exactly what I did. But then my heart overruled my brain and I left my number. Which I never do. Why did I leave my number?
“Did you at least get his number?”
I shake my head. “I left my number instead.”
“You what?!”
