Ineffable (8 page)

“Wrap?” he asked hopefully. “It may be cool where we’re going.”

She retrieved a small black sweater. Too small. He sighed.

He liked that she didn’t ask where they were going. He barely hid his grin as they took a cab to the Peninsula, one of her favorite places in the city.

“Preference?” He asked, when they got in the elevator. There were two restaurants.

“The Lobby,” she requested. “It’s too hot to be outside.”

He ordered wine, and got her the Riesling without asking what she wanted.

“Try it,” he said when it arrived.

“Mmm. Perfect.”

He nodded at the waiter. “Do you like fish?”

She nodded.

“We’ll have baked salmon with lemon and dill, a green salad with balsamic vinaigrette, and we’ll need a dessert menu.”

She didn’t say a word. He was impressed. Most women would have started talking the minute he said, feel like going out? His little Madonna? Nothing.

He couldn’t help feeling a tiny curl of resentment. There was no chatter, but there was also no overt pleasure, no satisfaction in going out with him. If he hadn’t known intimately how passionate she was, he’d have thought her a cold fish indeed.

“You like the wine?”

“It’s better than what I have at home.”

“We’ll pick some up after we leave,” he said, buttering bread. “Will you always be this quiet?” He put a piece of sourdough on her plate and watched her take a bite. He wondered what it would be like to feed her an entire meal. To make her wait for each morsel, knowing she was dependent on him to assuage her hunger. It made him hard. God, he was really losing his shit.

“Pretty much. I spend most of my time working, and my work doesn’t require talking.”

“Do you work every day?”

“All day every day, on and off. If I make three pieces in one day, I’m hot. But if I make one and its good? I’m cool too.”

Interesting. It was the most she’d said about her work since their initial meeting at Ineffable. Of course, he hadn’t asked her many questions either, he realized. He really was spoiled. He’d expected her to reveal all, but he hadn’t bothered to probe when she didn’t. He’d been too busy trying to screw her.

“Where do you get your materials?”

He’d always been curious about her tools and the vast bunches of beads and cord and stone she’d collected. So far he’d managed to resist the urge to stick his hands in her various pots. She’d eyed him a few times, as if she knew what he was thinking and did not approve.

She shrugged. “Everywhere. Stores, the internet, some of ‘em I find in the street, some of it’s repurposed from other jewelry. I have jewelers all over the world who supply me with materials.”

“How do you get your ideas?”

She shrugged again. It was one of her signature moves, and he loved watching her slender shoulders move, the lift to those luscious breasts.

“I don’t know. Something will look a certain way, or sound a certain way. I’ll pick something up, and there you go. I follow things through, see what’s gonna happen. Sometimes I hit. Sometimes I miss.”

“You know we can’t keep your work in the store. Every store around the globe is calling trying to get more of your merch, at customers’ request. We should announce a firm date for your launch.”

She drank some wine. “I know. I’m working as fast as I can.”

“We’re not your only client.”

“No, you’re not. And I have to come up with at least two collections a year for my own web site.”

He whistled softly. “Wow. Do you ever take vacations?”

“Not in awhile. I get here and there for work, buying trips and such. But I haven’t traveled nearly as much as I want to.”

“Ever been to Mexico?”

He was forming an idea for Christmas and was delighted when she shook her head and said, “Sort of. I went to Cancun with my mother when I was 16. Ironically I spent most of my time translating for her in jewelry stores. She wouldn’t let me go out by myself anywhere. All I really saw was the hotel pool.”

He could fix that. She’d love the resort he planned to take her to.

“Where else have you been?” he asked, sparking a detailed discussion of their personal travels, their likes and dislikes on the road.

When their food came he served her.

“You know what you want for dessert?”

“The apple tart.”

“Heated?” the waiter asked. “I love it that way with cinnamon ice cream.”

She nodded and grinned, and Nori wished their too handsome waiter to the end of west hell.

“And you sir?”

“Tiramisu.”

“Very good, sir. I’ll wait a bit before I place the order, give you a chance to focus on your entrees.” The waiter bowed himself away.

“How is your food?”

She nodded, forked a bite of salmon in her mouth. “Good. Yours?”

He nodded, watching her as they ate. And she watched him. When the waiter refilled their wine glasses, one slender leg emerged from the side of the table as she leaned forward to fiddle with the strap of her kitten heeled sandals. It gave him a stunning look down her bodice at the plumpest, juiciest, most bitable cleavage he’d ever seen, not to mention an eyeful of that long, elegantly curved stem. The waiter appreciated it too. He glared the man away.

He breathed a little easier when the leg retreated back under the table, but then he was distracted by her hands squeezing lemon over her salmon. He picked up one hand and lazily sucked the juice from her fingers. She gave him a half-smile that made him want to pull her into his lap. He settled for nipping the pad of her middle finger.

“Right,” she said.

He grinned.

“Mmmm,” she said later, mouth full of apples and ice cream. “This is sooo good.”

“Share.”

She scooped some up and offered it to him.

He ate it, slowly pulling back from her spoon.

She waited expectantly, her eyes on his tiramisu.

He scooped some up, a bit too much. She accepted it all, and he had to stifle a groan watching her roll the sweet around in her mouth.

“Damn. That’s good too,” she laughed.

He smiled, all teeth and twinkling eyes. He’d never heard her laugh so openly before. “Do you like sweets?”

“Yes, Lord. But I try not to indulge too often. It makes moments like this into an occasion.”

“You’re very slender.” His eyes lingered on her plump bosom. “Mostly,” he smiled slightly and fed her some more tiramisu.

“Yeah. I don’t eat a lot of crap. I drink mostly water or wine, and I prepare most of my food myself.”

“Very healthy,” he complimented, glad to hear she took good care of herself inside as well as out.

“You ordered us a good dinner.”

“We’ll have coffee, and then a walk.”

He looked up and the waiter appeared. “Yes, sir?”

“Coffee, please.”

He watched her spoon up the last apple after swishing it around in her melted ice cream.

“Do you like eating out?”

“Sure, sometimes, nice places, no dives. I don’t eat fast food. It’s overpriced, too salty and terrible for you. Avoid just a few burgers and you can have lunch at the Peninsula with wine.”

He laughed. “It’s not like you’re hurting for money.”

“Not anymore,” she agreed. “But I was eating here before I hit it big. Ain’t shit changed.”

Hmmm. She took her coffee black with one sugar, and she used the lumps not the prepackaged alternatives.

“I’m pretty sure that sugars melted.”

“I’m stirring to let the heat out. I figured I’d drink it fast. You look like you ready to leave.”

He wiped his expression clean, even though it was clearly too late. Was his need to fuck her that obvious? He shifted, surreptitiously adjusting the half erection he couldn’t seem to talk down. Probably.

“Don’t rush,” he said gruffly. “We’re not in a hurry. Everything’s fine.”

She eyed him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They drank their coffee and planned their walking route. She wanted to stop at Walgreens. He agreed. He was toying with a trip to Whole Foods too. He thought she might appreciate an impromptu shopping trip.

He waited outside the ladies room, and put her arm through his as they walked to the elevator. He needed to touch her. Like now. He could feel her heat all along the side of his body, the press of her soft breast against his arm. He fought and lost the urge to kiss her, and a man on the street smiled at him.

He thinks I’m a fucking idiot, Nori thought, not caring one bit. He’s right.

“Still up for a walk?” he asked, looking at her short heeled sandals.

“Yeah. Walgreens,” she reminded.

He watched her shop and carried the basket. Cotton balls, soap, lotion, a toothbrush – “for you, so you can stop using mine,” she told him – razors and a bottle of clear nail polish. He added disposable razors and shave foam for himself and ignored her money in the checkout line.

At Whole Foods he got a basket and told her to fill it up.

“I’m straight.”

“At least get some juice,” he teased. “I’m going to get a few things to keep at your house.” He’d get some beer to keep from being a liar.

She hesitated, then shrugged. “Okay.”

He exhaled in relief. He never knew quite how she’d react, and he didn’t want to inadvertently piss her off. That night in his father’s house had been more than enough. Unfortunately, he got to see the infamous Margot temper in action the very next day.

He came over after work and found her laughing with Reiko.

“Hello,” he grinned, kissing her cheek.

“Reiko.”

“Of course. I remember you. I’ve been wondering when our paths would cross again.”

Reiko’s brows rose as she looked at Margot, who grinned. “Very nice,” she crooned. “So, Nori. I hear you’ve all but moved in.”

He laughed. All of Margot’s friends were as audacious and bold as she was. “I have indeed. She doesn’t like my place, so here I am.”

“What’s wrong with his place?”

Margot shrugged. “Too much black and glass.”

“And all of her tools are here,” Nori added.

Reiko laughed. “Not just a pretty face then, I see. Wait a minute. Nori? Nori James. You’re the CEO of Ineffable, Margot’s new gig.”

“Guilty. Why,” he laughed. “Have they been telling tales about me?”

Reiko chuckled, and they both looked at Margot who immediately found something to fiddle with in her work basket. “I’ll never tell.”

After that the women pretty much ignored him, so Nori, eyeing the Moscato they were drinking, got himself a beer, and sat down with his laptop.

“You been in the street all day haven’t you?”

Reiko laughed. “Hell yeah. I been havin’ a good ass day too.”

Nori’s eyes widened when she pulled out huge wads of cash from several pockets, and her purse, and proceeded to count it.

“Me and Steele ran these thirsty ass –”

Margot cleared her throat abruptly, stopping whatever Reiko had planned to say next. Nori raised quizzical eyebrows, but she just frowned at him. Wisely he went back to email.

Or he tried to. He couldn’t seem to look away as Reiko swiftly and efficiently separated 1s, 5s, 10s, 20s and a few 50s into neat piles.

“That ho, Steele, she really cleaned up. But this $690 is respectable. I been gone about fo’ hours.” She separated the cash into two stacks, and his eyes widened when she folded and tucked each into one half of her bra.

“Why so much cash?” he asked, and immediately knew he’d made a mistake.

Reiko blinked, looking quite surprised, then she laughed. Shoving her feet into her sandals, she tossed the last of her drink to the head. “Well,” she said, rising and stretching. “I’m ‘bout to make that leap. See you later girl,” and without another word, she left.

After the door closed Margot lit him up. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Completely shocked, Nori didn’t know what to say. “I, I didn’t mean to scare her away. I didn’t mean anything –”

“You don’t ask nobody no shit like that. You just met her. Is it okay for me to be in the room when you schmoozing on some business, then ask you in front of everybody how much money you gon’ make off the deal? Mind your business.”

She stalked out of the room.

He went to her bedroom. The door was almost shut, and he heard her say into the phone: “Girl, he didn’t mean nothing by it. He just ignorant.” Then she laughed.

Good. She couldn’t be that pissed. He waited until she hung up then knocked.

“Yeah.”

He came in and sat down beside her. “I’m sorry about Reiko. Maybe if you explain things to me, I won’t be ignorant, and I won’t piss off your friends.”

She gave him some serious side eye, then when he pouted, rolled her eyes and said, “You know Natty.”

“Lani’s husband Jeremy’s younger brother. The producer.”