“Back in the day, people got shot for less.”
“We’re not out on the range or in a saloon,” Justin countered not the least bit intimidated by his friend’s foul mood. “So I think I’m safe.”
With a flick of his wrist, Adrian popped the top off his bottle and took a long pull on his beer. “I wouldn’t count on it.”
“So, who pissed you off?”
“Long story,” Adrian groused.
Justin pulled up a bar stool and sat down. “I’m all ears.”
Chapter 4
Adrian stared at the metal locker in front of him. This was not exactly the afternoon he had in mind. He wanted to enact his plan to get Milán to agree to his job offer, not stand in his gym for a weekly basketball game with Justin.
He’d called Milán several times over the past few days, but after the first two messages Adrian decided against leaving others. At that point it was obvious she wasn’t planning to call back, and he didn’t chase after anybody.
In truth, Adrian was annoyed he couldn’t convince her that Anderson Realty would be a great match for her. When he’d casually asked his mother about Milán, Norma Jean sweetly informed him that she was not keeping tabs on the woman. A lot of help she’d been, Adrian complained to himself. Any other time his mother would’ve had Milán’s GPS coordinates mapped out with her next destination already calculated. Now all of a sudden she was tight-lipped and didn’t want to interfere?
He had to admit that Milán was on his mind for nonwork-related reasons, too. At the most inconvenient times, he’d think about what happened in his office. His body would stir each time he recalled the feel of her body pressed against him, or the warmth of her full lips as they brushed against his own. She may not have wanted the kiss, but there were moments when he was sure she’d been participating. He tossed that thought aside. Maybe that was wishful thinking on his part. She had punched him after their kiss had ended, so clearly it wasn’t that memorable on her end. Still, that brief encounter with Milán had intrigued him more than any of the last few he’d had with women.
“Hey, did you just get here? You aren’t even changed.”
Adrian spotted Justin walking toward him. He retrieved his clothes from out of his bag. “No. Just preoccupied.” He nodded at Justin before he stripped out of his work clothes and changed into his basketball gear. “What’s up with you?”
“Same old, same old,” Justin replied while getting dressed. “How are things with Senorita Dixon?”
“How would I know? I haven’t spoken to her since the day we met.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
“At the moment nothing, so drop it.”
“Fair enough,” Justin replied. “So, what’s the latest with the Love Broker? The guys think she’ll have you fixed up again by summer.”
“Not gonna happen.”
They walked toward their reserved court. Adrian set his towel and water bottle on a bench. “She has officially stopped butting into my love life.”
Justin looked skeptical. “Since when?”
They walked to the top of the key and got in position. Adrian bounced the ball so that Justin could check him.
“Since she and I had it out and called a truce.” He did a spin move around Justin and threw up a bank shot. “There’s been no more interfering. She hasn’t tried to fix me up since Cynthia.”
Justin caught the ball under the net and they switched places. “The Cyber Stalker, right? Come on, man, do you honestly think your mom is going to give up trying to get you married?” Justin dodged past him. “She’s just lulling you into thinking she’s changed. She’ll wait till you least expect it and then, bam!” He slam-dunked the ball for effect. “Blind date.”
Adrian took the ball. Justin checked him and Adrian shot past him and hit a fadeaway. He let out a loud whoop and pointed to the basket. Justin rolled his eyes.
“Dating can wait.” Adrian walked over to the bench to get his water. “I’ve got to convince Milán to join the firm.”
“I thought you’d let that go?”
“You know I don’t take no for an answer...at least not for long.”
“Good to know. I’ll be sure and tell Dent-in-her-grill Donna. She’d be thrilled to hear you’ve changed your mind.”
Adrian let out a loud chuckle. “About wanting her? Hell will turn into a lovely condo community first.”
“There are thousands of interior designers in Chicago,” Justin reasoned. “What makes her so special?”
“Beats me,” Adrian countered. Just then his mind conjured up an image of her locked in his embrace. He wiped his face with his towel. “Just an instinct that tells me she’s the one I want.”
Justin regarded his friend closely. “For the company or something personal?”
“Strictly work,” Adrian specified.
“You sure?”
Adrian bent down to retrieve the ball. “Dude, I have enough stuff going on right now without entanglements of the feminine persuasion.”
“By the time the Love Broker gets done with you, you won’t know what hit you.”
Frowning, Adrian rubbed the sweat off his face and neck with the front of his jersey. “I’m telling you, Mom said there were no ulterior motives and I believe her. Besides, I’ve got the perfect plan to get what I want.”
Justin stared at him. “What plan?”
“Dad was complaining about all the cleaning Mom has him doing. You know, how it’s interfering with his TV shows. He let it slip that Milán’s coming over for dinner this Saturday.”
“Why?”
“Because Mom’s taken a liking to her, plus she’s new in town. It’s the perfect way to get some face time in and convince her to work for me.”
“You think she will? You already blew the first hookup.”
“It wasn’t a hook up,” Adrian shot back.
“Oh, right,” Justin laughed. “More like a setup.”
Adrian glared. “It’ll look like a chance meeting. We’ll clear the air and I’ll convince her that Anderson Realty is the logical choice.”
Deciding to call it quits, they retrieved their stuff and headed to the locker room.
“I hope things work out according to plan.”
Adrian fell into step beside his friend. “Of course it will. I came up with it.”
Justin’s expression was skeptical. “Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of.”
* * *
Three days later, Milán was driving down a tree-lined street checking house numbers as she went by. She smiled when she saw one house had an array of garden gnomes displayed across the grass. For some reason just seeing the miniature ceramic people as decorative art always made her giggle.
When she spotted the house, Milán eased her car into a vacant space at the curb. Her practiced eye roamed appreciatively over the inviting home. She parked, grabbed her purse and climbed out of the car.
She took a bag from the backseat and walked confidently toward the front door. Balancing the items in her hand, Milán rang the doorbell.
Seconds later, the door opened and a tall man smiled at her. “Hello, you must