There are thousands of vehicles in Manhattan that look identical to this one. Hell, there are probably two parked within twenty-five feet of us.
She’s not going to spot us.
I watch as Juliet, dressed in jeans, a cardigan, and flats, walks next to a man wearing glasses.
They are on the approach to her building.
“She mentioned him when I drove her home,” Drew announces. “It seemed like she was pretty excited about this.”
“Stop talking.”
He nods. “I’m just saying that she seems like a great girl, and she deserves to find someone who can make her happy.”
“Shut up, Drew.”
Finally, he quiets enough that I swear to fuck I can hear every single thump of my heart inside my chest.
“You do not mention this to her. Understood?”
He nods.
I keep my gaze pinned to Juliet as they stop in front of her building. I should tell Drew to start the car to take me home, but I don’t.
I stare at Juliet as she looks up and into the face of a guy who just took her on a date. He leans down. I curse inwardly, and then she turns her face a touch so his lips graze her cheek.
Slate has been denied a good night kiss.
“Ouch,” Drew whispers.
I don’t say anything as Juliet says something to Slate before he turns and walks away.
That sets me back on the seat with an unexpected charge of relief settling over me. I yank my phone out of my pocket to check the source of the buzzing that has been non-stop for the past five minutes. It’s a string of texts from Graham thanking me for showing up tonight.
“Oh, shit,” Drew says. “Sir, look.”
I glance up to see Juliet headed straight for us.
She crosses the street in a sprint, and as soon as she’s on the sidewalk next to the SUV, she raps her knuckles on the back passenger door window.
I lower it down, both annoyed and amused that I’ve been caught red-handed.
As soon as my face is in clear view, Juliet points a finger at me. “Your surveillance skills are shit.”
I let out a laugh.
She sets both hands on her hips. “Oh my god, are you laughing? You know how to laugh?”
Drew chuckles but doesn’t say a word.
“How was the date, Juliet?” I ask with a smirk.
“How’s Harry?” she counters. “My bleeding heart wants to know.”
I catch her eye with mine. “Harry is just fine.”
“Good.” She glances at her building. “I’m going home. I’ll see you in the morning, Mr. Bane.”
Before I have a chance to respond, she bends her knees to see into the car. “Goodnight, Drew.”
“Night, Juliet.”
I get nothing more as she takes off toward her apartment without looking back.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Juliet
“How was your date, Juliet?”
I’ll answer the question this time since it’s my sister asking. I drop my purse on the couch before I shrug out of the cashmere cardigan Margot let me borrow.
I wanted to keep my outfit simple yet sophisticated, so the cardigan was the perfect touch.
“He’s not for me,” I sum up.
Margot glances to where I’m standing.
I can tell that she got home just a few minutes before me. She’s in the kitchen with her hip propped against the counter as she eats leftover quiche.
“No spark?” she asks.
“Nope,” I respond, wondering if there might have been a spark at another time.
All I could think of throughout dinner with Slate was the heated conversation I had with Kavan before I left the penthouse.
I kept replaying his words over and over again in my mind.
“You crave a man who hears the echoes of your desires in your moans, and your screams. You want a man who knows how to fuck.”
All of it is true.
I want that and more.
My dinner with Slate was fun. He talked sports and I listened. I can tell that we’d make great friends, but anything beyond that won’t happen for us.
“How’s work?” Margot asks as she takes another bite of food. “We haven’t talked about that recently? Are you working on a new assignment?”
I nod. “I am. It’s top secret.”
Swallowing, she chuckles. “Aren’t they all?”
“They are,” I affirm with a quick nod of my chin. “How is work for you?”
“Brutal,” she confesses before she picks up a glass of wine to take a sip. “I love it though. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”
I wouldn’t trade a moment like this for the world.
She’s relaxed. She didn’t text me twelve times during my date to see if I was okay. She limited that to twice.
“Do you want to watch the Duke do some naughty stuff?” She wiggles her brows.
“I’d love to.” I gesture to the hallway. “I’m going to throw on some sweatpants, and make a bowl of popcorn.”
“I’m all for that.” She glances down at the designer dress she’s wearing. “I’m sorry he wasn’t the guy for you, Juliet.”
“Don’t be,” I smile as I approach her. “Isn’t part of the fun of finding the one, dating other guys?”