“Normally she’d head straight for her apartment on the right-hand side of the vestibule. Marcus’s door was directly opposite. The two were separated by a thirty-foot expanse of the finest marble floor, a fussy old chandelier and a sea of differing opinions. I promised Grace. If she was going to ask him to dinner, she should probably do it in person. Calling or texting from across the hall seemed juvenile. She was a grown woman, for God’s sake. A grown woman did what she needed to do, no regr...ets, no second thoughts about rejection. Still, she was drawn to the idea of going home. It would take a lot to prop up her busted confidence after last night. She inched closer to his door, casually leaning in, craning her neck to see if she could hear what might be going on in there. It was dead quiet, of course. Marcus loved his calm and quiet. She raised her hand to knock but stopped herself. It was after seven. Maybe this was a bad time. Maybe it was Lila’s bedtime.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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