THE towering glass door to my apartment building seemed to grow heavier each night when I returned home from Thrill. Or perhaps it was my bone-weary self, dragging home at a ridiculous 2 a.m. or 3 a.m., that made it feel heavier and more cumbersome.
Tonight, I had been able to cut out “early” at midnight, but it made little difference to my brain and feet while I struggled with the stubborn door to my apartment building. I wedged my shoulder into the opening, and, at last, it gave an inch. I slipped through and stepped into the brightly lit lobby. Omar was laughing behind his desk, clearly charmed by a man who stood with his back to me.
As Omar greeted me, the man turned around.
I felt a slow smile peek through and thoughts of a long soak in the tub were momentarily forgotten.
“Hey,” Kai said.
“Hi,” I said to Kai. A flicker of electricity passed between us.
“I hope you don’t mind that I tracked you down,” Kai said, sweeping the lobby with his gaze. “Nice place, by the way.” Kai was leaning against Omar’s desk, an infraction I had previously assumed was punishable with death by concierge. But Omar only watched Kai with bright eyes, not even reaching for the fly swatter I knew he kept behind his desk. One side of his mouth pulled up slightly, and I had to drag my eyes north to his eyes.
“Thanks.” I cleared my throat in an attempt to clear my head. “And how did you find me, exactly? We’ve already discovered you aren’t, in fact, a strawberry farmer. Do you really own a diner, or are you going to tell me you’re a private investigator posing as a cook?”
Omar laughed heartily. “Oh, Ms. Garrett. You have such a delightful wit.” He looked at Kai and nodded approvingly. “One can see why you would go to so much trouble.”
“What trouble?” I walked toward the two of them. I struggled under the weight of my bag and its burgeoning stacks of paperwork, recipe reworkings, Thrill’s most recent numbers, and shooting schedules from Margot and Vic.
Kai gently lifted the bag off my shoulder and let it find the floor with a soft thud. “It was no trouble. Manda stopped by the diner today with a fairly evangelistic plea to surprise you tonight. She said you loved surprises, especially after a long day of work.”
The look on my face must have clued Kai in. He raised an eyebrow. “You hate surprises.”
I winced. “They make me panicky. I prefer to be in control of the world.”
Omar tsked from his position at his desk.
Kai shook his head. “I had a feeling I should disobey Manda and text you a warning shot.” Still shaking his head, he reached into the back pocket of his jeans and produced an index card filled with Manda’s scrawl. “You might want to talk with her about how free she was with your personal information.”
I took it from him and read aloud: “‘Loves artisanal bread, Portuguese wines, overpriced cheese. Don’t be worried if she’s prickly at first. You’ll do great!!’” I rolled my eyes. “Sorry. She is desperate for me to have a life.”
“Well, I can’t promise I can deliver that big an order, but we could start with dinner.” Kai nodded to an umbrella stand by the front door. Next to it sat a large wicker basket with a green-and-white-checked liner. “Midnight picnic?”
I shushed all of those inner ninnies that were busy trying to convince me I was too tired, every muscle was too sore, and that my hair was a mess. I knew, with every part of me, that what I really wanted in that moment was to share a meal with this man.
Omar must have seen the answer on my face. “Ms. Garrett, I will be happy to keep safe your bag while you are out.”
I nodded my thanks, aware of the favor Omar was offering me. He was not one to tolerate being mistaken for a coat check.
“I’d love to,” I said to Kai.
“Great, let’s go,” he said, offering his hand to me, collecting the picnic basket on the way out.
I took it, feeling its strong, warm pull as we moved into the soft night air of Seattle.
We walked in silence, making our way across the leafy patterns cast onto the pavement by the streetlights above. Kai continued to hold my hand, and I continued to let him. His arm brushed up against me as we walked, and he adjusted his long-legged pace to accommodate mine. We rounded a corner and arrived at a neighborhood garden bursting with rows of trumpeting tulips. I snuck a glance at Kai and saw him stifling a yawn.
“Oh, no,” I said, embarrassed I’d only just thought of it. “You must be exhausted. When did you get up this morning?”