~
In all the commotion last week, I'd completely forgotten about handing in my timecard. I didn't even think about it until I rooted in my desk drawer for hidden candy mid-afternoon and saw the card flit across the cluttered drawer. After Maddox signed it, ignoring my billing for the afternoon I'd spent meeting his team, he looked it over once more, and erased my time out the night we discovered Dean's body. He carefully wrote in four p.m. and I blanched at my mistake, but didn't say anything.
One more sign off to go and the dollars would be hitting my account. With a glad heart, and the thought of fresh groceries and paying my rent, I paused by Vincent's desk and waited. After a moment or two of foot shuffling, I realized he had ear buds firmly wedged in his ears. Tapping him on the shoulder, I suppressed a giggle when he leapt half a foot into the air before swiveling around and yanking the ear buds out, his face red.
"Oh... hey, Lexi," he said, a smile breaking out as he ran a hand through his hair. His bald spot seemed to be expanding by the day. He tried really hard to be popular, but he had an issue with personal space, or more precisely, staying out of other people's. He didn't take hints well either. I decided to wrap this up quick.
"Hey, Vincent. I…"
"I'm rocking out to Nickleback," he interrupted, his head making a funny little thrusting movement, like a strutting rooster.
"Sounds like Bon Jovi to me."
Vincent's face fell.
"I like Bon Jovi."
"You do?" His face lit up as he seized the first thing in common between us.
"Sure. What's not to love? Big hair, big songs." I flapped the timecard between us hopefully.
"I think they all got haircuts," Vincent said, ignoring the card.
"Too bad."
"I have tickets to their comeback tour. Do you... want to go with me?"
"Oh, hey, well, I... gee," I spluttered, for once, at a loss for words. Vincent and me out? Together? "Don't they have to go away to do a comeback tour?"
"I have no idea. We could grab some dinner, too, maybe." Vincent shrugged casually, but his eyes looked hopeful.
How hard could it be? Vincent might not be the guy of my dreams, but I could do a concert and a burger without talking commitment. "Sure," I said. "Sounds like fun."
"I'll give you my number and you can give me yours, and I'll let you know the deets." Vincent did a funny little hand move in his attempt at talking street. So, he had a haircut geeks wouldn't sport, but he was down with the kids, clearly. He scrabbled on his desk for a notepad, then a pen, his hands shaking slightly as he scribbled his number. He tore off the sheet, passed it to me, then extended the phone pad and I gave him my number, hoping I wasn't about to regret it. If Vincent wanted to be phone buddies, I would have to get a new number.
"Cool car," I said, nodding to the neatly clipped magazine pages Vincent had pinned on the felt walls of his cubicle. They all featured the same sleek Lamborghini Spyder in cherry red.
"She's a beauty,” Vincent said reverently, his finger reaching to trace across the page. “I'll get her right before the concert."
"Wowsers." Wowsers indeed. The car easily cost six figures. I hadn't thought Vincent made that much, but clearly, company accountants did better than I assumed, unless he had a secret family fortune squirreled away. It was the same car that my car grew up wanting to be.
"Originally I wanted a DeLorean, but she is a million times better."
"Sure is. Can you sign this, please?"
Vincent scribbled his signature next to Maddox's on my timecard. "And you'll be the first person I take for a spin in it," he said, looking up.
Well, I was a lucky girl indeed. "Looking forward to it. Later, Vincent."
"The seats recline," he called after me.
Barf. I pretended not to hear while hoping he was joking.
Maddox was waiting for me by my desk when I got back. "Hot date?" he asked as I dropped into my chair and foot walked to pull myself under the desk.
"Shut up," I scowled.
Maddox leaned over me, a pile of papers in his hand. That working together ruse was starting to wear thin for me, but as I spared a quick look from the corners of my eyes, I noticed everyone else focused on their monitors, fingers tapping away on keyboards. Maddox lowered his voice. "Seriously? He asked you out?"
"Yes! At least, I think he did. We're going to a concert." My voice edged into a higher octave.
"The man has balls."
"Why? You think I'm a bad date?"
"No. I think he has balls for asking a hot chick like you out."
"Yeah? I don't see you asking me on a date." That was two pretties, and one hot, not that I was counting. And Saturday, I’d decided while wallowing yesterday, didn't count as a date, unless someone said the “d” word.
Maddox's voice was low, but softer when he said, "You want to go on a date with me?"
"Nooo." Oh, God, yes, please. The impromptu dinner at my apartment had been pretty good. It would have been a whole lot better obviously without Solomon and Lily crashing it, not to mention ending with a dead body, along with pretty much everything else in between at Flames. Unless Maddox had seriously bad dating mojo, that was unlikely to happen twice. I hoped.
"I'll take you out when this is all over." Maddox smiled and my cynical insides melted a little. "I know where to get the best pizza in town."
"Monty's Slices. Everyone knows that." I picked up my stapler and attacked the pile of papers in front of me.
"Damn. How about Thai? I'll pick you up."
"I can live with that."
"Look at you. Five minutes, two dates." Maddox walked away before I could staple his tie to my desk. Inside, I felt pretty damn pleased with myself. I had a real date with a sexy cop.