Hot Assets by Cynthia D'Alba

Author:Cynthia D'Alba
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Riante, Inc.

Eight

“I don’t know what I’ve gotten us into, Baxter,” I confided on the drive home. “Am I making a mistake letting him back in?”

Baxter yipped excitedly. I decided to take that as encouragement that I was making the right decision. Damn, I appreciated his support.

“What do I wear?” I glanced over at the tiny dog in the doggie car seat. “Jeans? Maybe a pair of yoga pants, like I don’t care what he thinks?”

The dog panted back at me.

“See? You were giving good answers until now.”

My phone rang through the car’s Bluetooth.

“Hello?”

“It’s me,” Dee said.

“Hey, me. What’s going on?”

“Um, I need to talk to you.”

“Okay, talk.”

“Not on the phone. Can I come over?”

“Um….” I hesitated. I didn’t want my sisters making a big deal out of Zack making dinner tonight. On the other hand, I had nothing to be embarrassed about. But I dreaded the inquisition when they found out.

“You have a date tonight or something?” Dee asked.

I winced, even though no one could see me but Baxter. “Something like that.”

“Ohhh, tell me more. Who with? I know, I know. The hunky cop from your past. Am I right? I’m right, aren’t I? Woot, woot. Andi’s got a date with someone other than the stick-up-his-butt Richard.”

“Would you stop it?” I pulled to a stop in my drive and laughed. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but it’s not a romantic hookup. I’m sure Zack just wants to talk about Lillian’s house and stuff.”

My sister hooted with laughter. “I wish I could see your face right now. I bet you’re flushed with little drops of sweat on your brow.”

“Screw you.” I dabbed at the brow sweat. “You don’t know everything.”

“Girl, I know when you’re lying, so give it up.”

“Fine. We’re having dinner. Are you happy?”

“Ecstatic. What are you making?”

“I’m not making dinner. He is.”

“Way to keep him in line,” Dee said, her tone admiring.

“So, what did you want to talk to me about? I have an hour or so.”

“Not on the phone. Lunch, tomorrow?”

“Sure. Sounds great. Want to meet at Island Salad House around eleven?”

“Perfect. See you then.”

Once my sister was off the line, I pulled my Benz around to the rear garage and parked. “Mighty mysterious, right?”

Baxter yipped.

“Yeah, that’s what I think, too.”

I settled on jeans and a white Oxford shirt. I debated shoes versus sandals versus barefoot because, you know, it was my house and tonight wasn’t a big deal. I settled on slide-on sandals that could be dumped easily.

Promptly at seven, my doorbell rang. Baxter leapt up from where he was sleeping in my blue wingback chair—telling him to stay off my furniture was a waste of breath—and flew toward the door, barking the entire way. I rolled her eyes, but I couldn’t contain the grin on my face as I followed the fierce defender of my home to the door.

I opened the door and smiled. Zack held an enormous brown paper bag in one hand and two bottles of wine in the other.

“Who needs a doorbell with Baxter around?” he said.

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