Sierra beat me to the restaurant. I saw her sitting at a high-topped table in the bar. Her spike-heeled ankle boots tapped furiously against the leg of her chair. When she spotted me, she gave me a jittery wave.
I smiled and stroked her upper arm before sitting opposite her. I expected a seductive look in return with a flirtatious wink or flip of her hair. This was a woman with whom I spent most of my time n***d. Instead, she cleared her throat and warbled, “Hello.”
I frowned. “How are you?”
“Good. Great actually.”
I blew out a tense breath. “Really? Good news?”
“Yes. At least, I hope you think so.” She paused and downed whatever cocktail she’d ordered before I arrived. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”
“About what?”
“Us. Or whatever ‘us’ there’s ever been.”
She looked at me squa
