24. Lulu

24

LULU

Today’s starting point?

Washington Square Park.

As I walk under the arch, I pass three team members from Frodo’s as they engage in tree poses and practice mantras.

“I visualize myself on a beach, soaking in the warm rays.”

“I see myself walking along the streets of Paris.”

“I’m on a golf course, nailing a hole in one.”

Damn, the prospect of winning a vacation is some kind of powerful lure.

Granted, I have nothing against tropical beaches or fabulous foreign cities, but I’ve never been a give-me-vacation-or-give-me-death kind of girl.

There are other things I want though.

Maybe I ought to practice visualizing what I want.

I’m kissing Leo again. I’m tackling him, rolling around with him, and taking him home. He’s sliding inside me, kissing my neck, and making me ? —

SCREECH.

What the hell?

When did I become the dirtiest bird when it came to that man?

When you mauled him in front of a Klimt, you dodo.

Oh, well, that would do it.

I had mega sex dreams about Leo last night. They were utterly delicious, and I regret nothing.

Not a damn thing.

A man clears his throat, and I glance in the direction of the scoffer. The Finger-Licking-Good Guy. He nods at the collection of Frodo employees, rolling his eyes. “You know where I see myself?”

“Where’s that?”

The man sighs majestically and spreads his arms. “In my La-Z-Boy, watching a game.”

I give him a thumbs-up. “Squad goals,” I say, using Leo’s words from the chocolate show.

His brow knits. “Hey, listen. You’re the lady who fell in the fountain, aren’t you?”

“Just call me Chocolate-Covered Lulu.”

“Listen, sorry about that. I was the one running the booth that day, and I couldn’t believe that happened.”

I flash back to the fountain incident. This affable fellow hardly seems like the guy who accused Leo of rolling around in his fountain, but indeed he is. “You know what they say. Chocolate fountain incidents are a little unbelievable. Did you ever get the tipper you were looking for?”

“Alas, I didn’t catch the scofflaw.”

“Dammit,” I say. “We could try to track him down. Put up a wanted poster perhaps?”

“Oh, he’s already on the FBI’s Ten Most Wanted. The search will go on.”

“Never give up. Never surrender.”

He laughs then smiles again. “So, about that day. I was kind of frenzied and frustrated because of some stuff going on at home with the babies?—”

“Babies? As in multiple?”

“The wife had triplets six months ago.”

My eyes bulge. “I can’t imagine. No wonder she wants you to have time off. But is everything okay with them? How are they doing? What sort of stuff is going on? Do you need more caffeine?”

“I always need more caffeine. My little Helena is colicky. She’s been crying like crazy, and Emma, that’s my wife—she’s having a hard time with it.”

“I have to imagine she is.” Then I smile because . . . babies . There are definitely stars in my eyes. “Can I see pictures?”

A surprised smile comes my way. “Yeah. Are you sure?”

“Hello?! Show me the trio!”

After grabbing his phone from his pocket, he clicks on a folder then shows me a picture of three chubby-cheeked redheads. My heart turns to mush, and I coo at the photos. “I love them.”

“That’s how I felt when I met them too.”

“More, more. Show me more.”

The man flips through his camera roll, and I squeal at nearly every adorable shot of the chunks of love, including one of the girls sitting upright in Daddy’s La-Z-Boy.

When we’re through, I’m a soft teddy bear. “This is the best.”

“Anyway, that’s why I was so flustered that day about the fountain?— ”

“Don’t think twice about it. We are all good. I landed a job out of it.”

And landed on top of a man who tastes better than a truffle and melts my insides like chocolate, and now I’m falling for him in a delicious way. So, really, I suppose it’s fitting I fell into a fountain.

“No kidding?”

I square my shoulders. “I’m Lulu Diamond. I’m making chocolate for Heavenly for its Rising Star line.”

He offers a fist for knocking. “George Day. Rock on, chocolate-covered chocolatier.”

“Rock on, Triple Latte Daddy.”

I say goodbye and continue my trek across the park to my team.

As Leo comes into view, I smile from the inside out. Maybe the baby pictures primed me, but I’m grinning like a bit of a fool. When he smiles back, I upgrade myself to beaming. Full wattage–style.

Leo gestures to the cup of coffee in his hand. But first, coffee , he mouths then adds, for you .

My squishy heart softens more.

He strides over, a little grin tugging at his lips like we have a secret. The secret is we want to jump each other.

But we want so much more too.

And we can’t quite have it.

Instead, we have . . . coffee.

He hands me a cup. “With cream, as you like it.”

“Life is too short to drink coffee without cream.”

“Gotta have standards.”

“Also, thank you.” It’s a little thing, but it’s also a wonderful thing. And I like the little things in life. I take a sip, and the drink is mixed perfectly, and I tell him as much.

“One of my talents—remembering how you like your coffee.” He lowers his voice. “Listen, about last night.”

The night I practically flung myself at him. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not worried, Lulu.”

“Then what is it?”

Nerves thrum through me. His words move like stop-and-start traffic. “Last night . . . you . . . the things you said. I think my brain was a pinball game.”

The nerves tighten like a valve. “Did you beat the game?”

“No. I don’t know how it plays out.”

“I don’t either.”

“I know it’s foolish, but fuck, you’re in my head, Lulu. I have this for you.” He reaches into his back pocket and takes out a small postcard. “I looked this up this morning online. I thought you would like it. I picked up some cardstock and printed it out.”

My breath catches as I turn the card over, and something so pedestrian occurs to me—he bought cardstock to print this. Now, this is a big thing. This is a thoughtful thing. It requires planning and foresight. It’s like shopping for a gourmet dinner, concocting a wonderful meal, and serving it with the perfect garnish.

And it’s an even bigger thing when I see what he’s printed.

An image of Man Ray’s photo dubbed The Kiss , a close-up shot of a couple’s lips almost meeting. The thunder before the lightning strikes.

A pinwheel spins inside me, shooting off colors and sparks. I turn the card over, but he clasps his hand over mine. “Read it later.”

I bat my eyelashes. “Please? Now?”

He laughs. “So impatient.”

“I want to read it.” My voice betrays me, and I don’t care. I am desperate to know what he wrote.

He relents. “You’re irresistible. Next time, I’ll get you the Chagall.”

“I love Chagall’s kissing painting.”

“Of course you do.”

Smiling with utter delight at my accomplishment—convincing him—I turn it over and read his words.

I can’t stop thinking about you.

My heart glows. My blood runs neon. I’m a firework shooting high into the summer sky.

I meet his eyes. They’re a warm chocolate brown, and they’re sketched with tenderness and desire.

Something else is stamped in them too. Hope.

This card, these words—they don’t change the reality of him, me, and my personal goal to focus on building a business. But even so, I’d be a fool of another kind if I let this moment pass me by. “It’s the same for me.”

In some other world, some other place, we’d fall into the close-up shot of an almost-kiss. And then we’d become The Kiss .

In this world, sneakers slap the pavement, and I straighten instantly.

“What’s the same for you?”

It’s Noah, splashing cold water on us as he runs closer in running shorts, showing off his golden skin.

“Are you dressed for a run?” I ask, doing my best one-eighty.

“You know that adage about dressing for the job you want? I want us to be first place at the end of today, so I’m dressing like Usain Bolt.”

Leo lifts an appreciative brow. “Is this your second run of the day?”

“Hell, yeah. One wasn’t enough. After I left you in the dust and went home, I had a ton of energy, so I ran down here. And I came up with awesome ideas as I ran this morning. Speaking of, I had this killer new idea for sales. Want to hear it? We have a few minutes before we start.”

Leo nods and turns to me, mouthing later .

I motion that I’ll join them in a few, then I take a sip of my coffee, fueling up.

“Hey, Lulu!”

I turn in the direction of the voice and I see the white-blonde RaeLynn striding over to me.

“Hi, RaeLynn.”

“I was hoping to catch up with you. I’ve been reading about your chocolates, and everything I’ve seen on blogs about you is tremendous. You were picked as one of BuzzFeed’s Top Five Chocolatiers to watch.”

“Thank you. I was honored to be named.”

“I know you’re working with Heavenly, but I’d love to work with you too, at some point. We should talk about doing a partnership together.” She’s so intensely earnest that it throws me. She doesn’t seem like the same woman who made comments about my USB T-shirt yesterday.

“Thanks, but I don’t see my Heavenly partnership ending anytime soon.”

“Oh, well, you should be really careful, then.” She nods in the direction of Leo.

I scrunch my brow. “What do you mean?”

She gives me a you’re so silly look. “Well, isn’t there kind of something between the two of you?”

I blink. Is it that obvious? Was it evident from the whispers between us that we were saying I want you ? Honestly, it probably was.

I do something I hate, but that’s necessary for survival. I lie. “There’s nothing going on. We’ve known each other for a long time. He was the best man at my wedding.”

There. I hope that’ll get her off the scent.

“Oh, thank God there’s nothing going on.” She wipes a hand dramatically across her forehead. “Because you need to be smart in this environment.”

“What do you mean?” A kernel of fear takes root in my chest.

“Aren’t you an employee of Heavenly? I’m sure they have a policy that says you can’t get involved with the executive who hired you.”

I blanch. “Well, I’m not technically an employee. I’m a contractor, so it’s different.”

“True, though you have to think about not only the letter of the law, but the spirit of the law too. Personally, I find you can’t be too careful these days,” she says in a sisters-looking-out-for-each-other way.

As she walks away, I want to trip her.

I want to shout at her.

But I don’t have any ground to stand on.

She’s right.

You can’t be too careful. There aren’t any hard and fast rules in place, but the fact is there are unwritten rules. And while I’m not worried that Leo would screw me over at work, I do worry how this might look to others—like I slept my way to this opportunity.

I cringe inside at that thought.

And now I have a new wrinkle in the should-I-or-shouldn’t-I debate.

The concern isn’t only whether it’s wise for me to get involved with someone I’m working with while I build my business, but how that involvement might appear to others.

What seemed clear moments ago has once again been muddied.

The same could be said about the clue Kingsley hands us.