“Baby, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’ll cancel our dinner plans.”
“I’ll make it up to you.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Sloan, I know it’s our six month anniversary, and I hate that I’m going to miss it.”
I’m sure I pouted. “I understand. Just get home as soon as you can.”
“I will. I love you.”
“I love you, too.” I disconnected the call and stared out the window of my office at the clear blue sky then dug into some spreadsheets. There’s something about data figures that swallows you whole. Before I knew it, evening had arrived. I turned off my computer, grabbed my purse, and headed to the elevator. I pressed the button on the wall, waiting.
The bell dinged, and the elevator doors opened.
I stepped in, hit the button on the panel for the parking garage, and stood staring at the numbers in front of me digitally count down the floors.
My cell phone pinged. I pressed the icon for my text messages.
Do you like red wine or white? Flyboy23.
I smiled and typed my reply.
Red wine, of course. Your goddess.
The elevator came to a stop. I stepped out, trying to adjust the strap on my purse, my cell phone in hand as I waited for the next text. The light overhead flickered. I glanced up then returned my focus to my phone before rounding the concrete buttress.
Standing on the other side was Evan, as sexy as ever in his crisp, black US Airways uniform. He had his cell phone in one hand and bottle of red wine and red roses in the other.
“You made it!” I exclaimed. My high heels clacked on the concrete as I ran toward him.
“Did you really think I’d let my wife, and my goddess, spend our anniversary alone?”
I hugged his neck. “Well, I—” My lips were stopped by his.
“You need to clear your schedule,” he said, his warm breath teasing my lips.
“Oh?”
“You told me once you wanted to go to Greece.”
“Greece!” I squealed. “Are you serious?”
“I’m serious.”
I kissed his lips off while standing in the parking garage of S.Y.N.D. International. And to think, my happily ever after happened by accident. Or was it? Perhaps the woman who never believed in fate was coming around. And it was all due to my husband, my Evan, my Flyboy23.
The End
www.londonsaintjames.com
Other Books by London Saint James:
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Her Accidental Lover Page 4