Page 46 of One Night Stand After Another
“Thank you.” She took a sip. Fruity, bitter, and spritzy, with a whiff of licorice. “Delicious.”
She slid into the chair next to Zane and looked around the bar. One other couple sat at the other end, heads close together, a bottle of red wine between them. A foursome sat at a table, enjoying appetizers. A large party sat near the back. Quiet conversation drifted through the room.
“I like this hotel. Very chill, but if our room is as soothing as the decor in the lobby or as dark as this bar, I might need a little nap.”
“Constant travel can be exhausting. Can I feed you first? You must be starving.”
“I could eat.” But her cocktail was going down smoothly, and his solid presence at her side made her realize she’d missed him.
“How did I not know you were an accountant?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I guess I didn’t mention it. It’s not very exciting, but it pays the bills and has good benefits. Adulting, for the win.”
“Will the new job be creative at all?”
“Eventually, maybe. I’m hoping my business acumen will get me through the door, but I might pitch my designs when I’m ready.”
She expected him to push her, to prove her growing confidence in him was unwarranted, but he simply nodded, gray gaze gleaming. She reached down to lift her finished sweater out of her bag. “What do you think?”
“It’s beautiful.” He cupped her cheek and pulled her in for a bourbon-laced kiss. Heat arced through her, stoking a fire that had been banked all afternoon. “But not as beautiful as you.”
She draped the sweater around her shoulders and moved closer to him, pressing her breasts against his chest and giving him another lingering kiss.When you know—you know.She wasn’t quite there yet, but she might be soon, especially if he kept looking at her like he wanted to eat her for dinner.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” she asked.
He lifted a brow. “Room service?”
She nodded.
He tossed money on the bar, took her free hand, and led her toward the door.
Chapter Fifteen
“I’d like to meet Jimmy Banan, the yarn Yoda of Los Angeles, but I’m going to head out pretty quickly, if that’s all right. I need to meet Roman Gallagher’s broker in an hour.” They’d navigated LAX and were settled in their rental, a Lexus nearly identical to the truck he’d left in Chicago.
“Sounds good.”
“I’ll stick around for a minute, just in case it’s a bust,” he said. “But if Banan’s showroom is anything like the other places we’ve visited, you won’t even know I’m gone.”
She grinned. “You’re probably right.”
After Clara had fallen asleep last night, he’d scrutinized the video tour of the property. It was perfect. Incredible. There was no downside to leasing it that Zane could see. Roman’s research was impressive. He had color-coded graphs of the businesses in the area and detailed demographics on the surrounding neighborhood. Venice Beach was artsy and foodie. Zane expected a storm of fiber enthusiasts as soon as they opened their doors.
Sometime before tomorrow morning, he hoped to present Clara with an even better opportunity than the Fiber Kingdom job. But first he had to make sure the location was as amazing as it looked on paper. If it wasn’t, he’d find another option for her, but if it was—he’d be able to show her the best spot on their adventure yet, a yarn destination that she could turn into anything she desired, with his enthusiastic help, of course.
Best of all, he’d have more time to win her heart.
“Ready?” he asked, putting it in park and handing the keys to a valet who materialized outside his door.
“I hope so.” Another valet opened her door, and Zane met her on the sidewalk. Rodeo Drive bustled around them. Her fitted red T-shirt was paired with the sweater she’d worn—very briefly—last night, and it looked amazing with jeans and sexy black sandals.
She seemed nervous, so he bent to whisper, “You’re beautiful, but I liked the way you wore that sweater way better last night.”
Some of the stiffness melted from her expression. “Down, boy. Jimmy awaits.”
“As you wish.” He checked the address on his phone and scanned the buildings, finding the right numbers on a simple gold plate on a plain black door. He texted his name to the number in his confirmation email.
The door lock buzzed. He turned the knob, held the door open for Clara, and then followed her into a dark-green vestibule lined with gilded chairs. Five feet in front of them, another plain black door buzzed.
