I grinned. That was nobody but Arizona, coming to grab me for lunch.
Glancing at my watch, I realized my daydreaming had taken me a few minutes past the time I was supposed to meet her at the elevators. She and Arnez, the co-host of her pop-culture/gossip show, had a small office space in the same building as the Sugar&Spice offices, so our lunchtime meetups were a common thing.
I stood and grabbed my blazer from the back of my chair, checking myself in the full-length mirror behind my door as I put it on. My cell went into the back pocket of my jeans, clutch tucked under my arm, and I was ready to go.
I found Arizona in the lobby flirting with the line of male models vying for a place in an upcoming spread. She was literally surrounded - only a flash of her long blonde braids alerted me to where she was. I slipped an arm between two of the models to grab her by the wrist to pull her out.
“Really, Z?” I playfully scolded. “But you told me to hurry up?”
Wearing a flirtatious grin, Arizona stared past me, offering somebody a little wave. “That was before my attention shifted a little to the left, and all these various shades of chocolate hit me like bam. I could get my fill for lunch right here.”
“The hell you will. Bring your ass on, I’m trying to get these sweet potato fries and you’re playing.”
“But the abs, Noah!” Arizona insisted, so sincerely I couldn’t do anything but laugh.
“Don’t you have a boyfriend, ma’am?” I asked, pulling open the main door that would lead to the elevator bank. Arizona was right behind me, and when I glanced back, her face was pulled into a scowl.
“Man, fuck him. I’m over that.”
I sucked my teeth. “For how long this time? A week? A day?”
“Until Taj decides to grow the fuck up, into an artist who doesn’t “need to appear single” for his image. I’m too fine to be somebody’s secret.”
“Ayyy, damn right!” I exclaimed, raising my hand to give her a high-five. She eagerly returned the gesture instead of playing it off, which made me feel like she was serious about it this time.
I hoped she was serious about it this time.
“What happened? What’s going on? Didn’t you spend the night with him last night?”
She huffed. “Yeah, spent the night arguing, because he felt like I was too flirty with Logan Lewis on the show. Like Logan isn’t too busy trying to get a whiff of Dani’s pussy to be worried about anybody else!”
Usually when Arizona went off on these celebrity rants, I kiiinda tuned her out. I loved my friend dearly, but I didn’t care about that glitter and glam. And sometimes I didn’t even know who the hell the people were.
This wasn’t one of those times.
My eyes bugged wide. “You’re joking, right? Fine ass, singing ass, piano-playing ass Logan Lewis and Songbird Dani?!”
Arizona pursed her lips as she gave me a deep nod, then pressed the button for the elevator. “Girl. Yes. I see you’ve been too busy to be up on game, but a “reputable source” swears she was in the hotel room next to Dani’s a few nights ago, and heard her hitting fuck me harder in allll types of high soprano notes. And guess who was seen sneaking out of the room later?”
“No!”
“Yes ma’am. And after interviewing him, I believe it. You should’ve seen the way his eyes went all lusty when I asked him about her.”
I gasped. “You asked him about that?”
“Girl, hell no. You know Arnez and Arizona don’t play that, I like my gossip and messiness verifiable honey. But, they ended up on stage together at her show that night. I think he was in the audience, but he came up and closed the show with her. Even that video footage is damn near too hot for TV though.”
I let out a low whistle. “Wow. I seriously had no idea about any of that.”
“Because you’re always holed up somewhere smoking incense.”
“Burning incense.”
“What is the damn difference girl?”
She and I stared at each other for a second before we burst out laughing, and we were still laughing when the elevator arrived. Before either of us could move to get on, someone got off, and Arizona hooked her arm through mine, digging her nails into my forearm.
“Whew, shit,” she muttered. “That man looks like answered prayers.”
She wasn’t wrong.
She wasn’t wrong at all.
Nick Davison stepping off the elevator in my building with a bouquet of dahlias in hand, dressed in fresh sneakers and nicely fit jeans and a deep blue sweater that was delicious against his dark skin absolutely did look like a gift from God.
“Just the woman I was looking for,” he said, and shit, did that whimper come from Arizona or me?
Arizona dug a sharp elbow into my side and I straightened up, clearing my throat. “Nick, hello. Um, what are you doing here?”
The smile he offered as he stepped forward was potent enough I felt it in my chest. “Well,” he said, extending the flowers in my direction. “I was hoping I could take you to lunch. Wherever you want to go, but I passed this little spot about a block away called Honeybee. Looked interesting, if you’re interested.”
“Oh, she’s definitely interested,” Arizona answered for me, before I could speak. “And Honeybee is her favorite spot in the city, so your batting average is insane right now.”
“You live in LA,” I blurted, planting my feet to fight against Arizona’s effort to push me forward, towards him. “How are you... here?”
His grin widened. “Surely you’re familiar with the airport, Noah.”
Shit.
My eyelids fluttered a little from the double-whammy of my name on his lips, and the memory of... his lips. So of course, my gaze went to his lips.
Damn, those are good lips.
“Right. Of course. Airplanes. Cross-country in a couple of hours, all that. Of course,” I stammered, awkwardly accepting the flowers I’d left him offering for too long. “Do you have a meeting or something here? Are you filming?”
He shook his head. “No. Not that I know of.”
My breath caught in my throat. “Oh.”
“Oh, this nigga is smooth,” Arizona whispered, but still loud enough that Nick heard her, and laughed.
“I’m not smooth,” he insisted. “What I am, is sorry for encroaching your space at the airport that day.”
My eyebrow hiked. “Is that what you’re calling it?”
“I’m trying to clean it up, since the truth sounds bad,” he said, and I couldn’t help the laugh that spilled from my mouth before I clamped my lips closed. “But nah, seriously, the whole Instagram apology thing, it felt weak. And you didn’t seem like you were trying to hear it either, so I thought maybe showing up in person would make more of an impact.”
“Mission accomplished homie.” Arizona gave Nick a goofy grin and then turned to me and hissed, “Go to lunch and then ride his face bitch, or I’m throwing your shit on the curb,” under her breath. “I’ll take these,” she said louder, pulling the flowers from my hands. “I’ll get one of the interns to make sure they’re in your office when you get back.”
“But what about our plans, Arizona?” I asked, a question that got me a death glare in return.
“What plans, Noah?” she growled back. “I am going to go see if I can talk one of those models into letting me eat sushi off his abs, and you are going to lunch with this nigga who looks like he would shoot up a plantation for you, okay? Okay. Call me after.”
With that, Arizona turned and flounced off down the hall, her braids flapping behind her as she moved. I stood there, stunned, until Nick cleared his throat.
Amusement played at the corners of his mouth when I turned to face him.
“So, your friend seemed pretty adamant about you coming to lunch and riding my face after, but I’m cool with lunch. Or nothing, if you’re not feeling it.”
I closed my eyes for a moment, as if it would shut off some of my embarrassment. “I... um... no. I mean... yes. I’m oka
y with it. I mean, we’ve already kissed, so this wouldn’t exactly be unheard of.”
He smirked. “So, just lunch then, or...?”
“Really? Now you’re pushing it.”
“I’m kidding,” he insisted in a soothing tone as he raised his hands in defense. “My bad.”
“Mmmhmm.”
He pretended to zip those great lips, then pressed the button for the elevator. It came almost immediately, and we climbed on with a few other people. Neither of us said anything, but I felt his eyes on me the whole way down. It was nice.
Out on the street, he surprised me by not grabbing my hand. Not that he had to, but with the cross-country flight, and flowers, I almost expected it, and was a little disappointed when he didn’t.
“Why are you suddenly so quiet?” I asked, when we were halfway down the block and he still hadn’t said anything.
He shrugged. “I’m trying to stay out of trouble.”
“Trouble?”
“Yeah. Everything I’m thinking right now is a little inappropriate, so...”
I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, and turned to face him. “Such as...?”
“You really want to know?”
“Yes,” I answered, hoping like hell I wasn’t about to regret it.
My heart sped up a little as he closed in most of the space between us, leaving enough that we weren’t actually touching. “Such as, you are wearing the hell outta these jeans.”
I smirked. “Seriously? That’s it?”
“Nah,” he said, dipping his head to put his mouth a little closer to my ear. “That’s just the least likely to get me slapped, or make you change your mind about lunch.”
My gaze climbed up the front of his sweater, to his face. “Oh. I probably shouldn’t push it then, huh?”
“That’s entirely up to you, Noah. It’s all talk at this point anyway, right?”
Before I could answer, he’d stepped back. This time, he did take my hand, threading his fingers through mine before he gave me a gentle tug to get me walking again.
“You know this doesn’t help, right?” I asked, and he frowned a little.
“Doesn’t help what?”
“Well, you claimed you were here to apologize for causing extra attention, but what do you think this does?” I gestured towards our clasped hands, trying to ignore how good his skin felt against mine. “When people see us moseying down the street holding hands, what do think they’re assuming?”
We stopped to wait for the signal to cross at the end of the block. There was a twinkle of mischief in Nick’s eyes as he looked down at me, squinting against the wind he was blocking from whipping in my face.
“I think they assume I’m courting you.”
“Exactly,” I said, as we crossed the street, stopping right in front of the restaurant. “Which won’t bring less attention. It’ll bring more. It’s going to be a whole thing, if people think we’re dating.”
With the way my last relationship had gone... maybe that wasn’t a bad thing though.
Gently - Nick extricated his hand from mine. “Again, my bad. But why is it such a horrible thing for people to think? I’m blocking somebody you’re trying to close the deal with or something?”
“What?! No,” I insisted, even though Sam’s lying ass did flash in my mind. “It’s just that it’s not true. We’re not dating, you’re not courting me.”
“You sure?”
That question stopped me cold, even though I wasn’t moving. I drew my head back, blinking hard as I processed the meaning of his words. “Um, are you?”
“Would you be opposed?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t answer my question with another question.”
“But you answered my question with a question.”
“When?!”
“When I asked you if you were sure I wasn’t courting you. Did I come here to apologize, yes. But also because you seem interesting, and you called yourself and your grandmother “fineapples”, and I think you’re beautiful, and maybe I imagined it, but I don’t think I did - there was something there, at the airport. Me and you, same time, same place... I don’t know what yet, but there’s something to that. And all of that taken together is what made me get up the next morning and buy a plane ticket. I’d like to know more, if you’re willing to let me.”
Wow. Okay.
Obviously, I couldn’t let him know my thoughts essentially mirrored his, because the thoughts themselves were crazy, right? And getting on a plane for a chance to get to know someone who, not even 72 hours ago, was a stranger... that wasn’t charming. It was creepy, right?
I knew what the answer was “supposed” to be, but I couldn’t make myself feel it. In fact, I was wildly attracted to Nick, even more than before, because he’d gotten on a plane from the sunny perfect weather in L.A. to come here. For me.
Effort held an underrated degree of sexy.
“Let’s just eat,” I suggested, feeling the urge for a moment to collect myself. “Can we do that?”
He nodded, then grabbed the door handle to open it for me. “Of course.”
I took a breath, trying to calm my nerves as I stepped into Honeybee. It was a popular spot, and as such, was crowded for lunchtime, which meant there would probably be a wait. I was approaching the hostess to get our names down when Nick put a hand on the small of my back, effectively stilling my motions.
“Nick Davison,” he told the hostess, who looked at something on her screen, tapped a few buttons, and then smiled as she picked up two menus from the stack beside her.
“Follow me right this way.”
She moved quickly, but Nick grabbed my hand, guiding me as we followed her in the opposite direction from the one I was used to going. I’d never eaten anywhere except the main dining room, and once at a party held in the event space upstairs. Until today, I hadn’t even known the private area she led us to even existed.
High dividers separated tables lined in front of what I’d never known to be a functional window. From the outside, it was basically a mural with the Honeybee logo as the focus, but from this side, sunlight streamed in, and the street was visible through the array of colors.
“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” I asked, once we were seated, and the hostess had walked away. “How did you know I would come to lunch, or agree to this restaurant?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t. I hoped, and made plans. It happened to work out.”
“Does that happen for you a lot? With the handsome face, and wide shoulders, and the charm? Things just “work out”?”
Nick’s eyebrows raised, and for a half-second there was a shift in energy that made me wonder if I’d said something wrong. But then he grinned, and shook his head. “Nah, I wouldn’t say so. Today is a lucky day I guess. Or maybe it’s you. Good luck charm.”
“Wow,” I said, turning to look out the window and hide my blush as a server came by to drop off a carafe of water and glasses. Nick must’ve caught the hint that I needed a second, because he did the talking when the server asked if we needed anything, asking for biscuits and apple butter for us to share.
As if I needed another reason to be attracted to him.
When I turned to face him again, he was picking up the water, and poured glasses for both of us. I eagerly accepted mine and took a gulp, hoping it would douse some of the heat that had been steadily building since Nick stepped off that elevator.
“You’re a beauty editor. I googled the hell out of that and still don’t know what it means,” he said, then sipped from his glass.
“Oh! Think of it like a creative director. I steer the vision of everything beauty related for the magazine. I’m into things being organic, natural hair, eating well, things like that, so under my direction a lot of our content is about cruelty-free products, products made from natural ingredients, instructions on making your own products, how to eat for clear skin, things like that.”
He nodded. “So you’re like, anti-chemical?”
“No, I wouldn’t say that. There are definitely good chemicals, especially in beauty products, but I do believe in limiting the foreign elements we put on our bodies, because sometimes those things end up in our bloodstream, affecting our health.”
“And you’re big on like, holistic health, right?”
I shrugged. “Yes and no. Again, it’s situational. Medicine does a lot of good in our world, but there are natural remedies for a lot of the things we medicate, and the natural remedies are better for us than the medicine.”
“Change your diet to help with migraines, but also vaccinate your damn kids.”
“Exactly,” I laughed. “You get it.”
“I do.”
There was quiet for a moment as the waiter dropped off those biscuits, and then I asked, “What about you? What made you get into filmmaking.”
“Good and bad, I inherited a lot from my parents. Filmmaking is one of those things. I love a good story, and the camera is my medium for telling those stories.”
I snagged one of the biscuits from the plate, then dipped the serving spoon into the apple butter to spread over it. “What are you working on now?”
A grin spread over his face, and he shook his head. “Short film written by my nephew and his friends. They’re the actors too. A romantic comedy. A teenage romantic comedy.”
“Oh wow. That sounds adorable.”
He chuckled, and then pulled his phone from his pocket. He did something on it, and then slid it across the table to me.
On the screen, I watched as the “hero” - Nick’s nephew, apparently - ran a hand over his head, looking sheepish as he carried on a conversation with the heroine, who seemed to be portraying a “cool” girl to his somewhat nerdy appearance. Suddenly, she grabbed his face in her hands, pushed up on her toes and kissed him - perfectly teenage appropriate, but still very sweet. When she pulled back, they shared a look that... either these were really good young actors, or the crush they were portraying was real. Either way, there was emotion there that felt a little too familiar.
“This is good,” I told him, when the clip finished. “You’re going to give it full editing, production, all of that?”
Relationship Goals Page 3
