Wherever It Leads(11)

“What’s it for?”

“Presley has one, too. It was a random decision late one night. When I look at it, I smile. I think of her and her loyalty and the laughs we share. It’s our thing, you know?”

A dark shadow flitters across his face. I’m intrigued, but don’t ask.

“Presley—she’s your best friend?”

“Yeah, strangely. We don’t really have that much in common, other than we like each other,” I laugh. “Do you have friends like that?”

He shakes his head and sits back in his chair. “No, I don’t. But I like what you just said.”

“What’s that?”

“That all you have in common is that you like each other. I like that.”

“It more poetic than true, really. We both like the beach and we both like vodka,” I laugh.

“All the makings of a true friendship.”

“Definitely. But some days, I really think that’s all we have. She’s never worked a day in her life and never will. Her father owns some big corporation of some sort and they are loaded beyond comprehension. My family isn’t poor by any means, but my parents have always made me have a job. They said it’s character building.”

“I agree. Hard work purifies the soul.”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, but I’d rather be purifying my soul teaching and not working for minimum wage at a bookstore.”

“Ah, don’t knock books,” he says, pretending to grimace.

“I’m not knocking books. Just the pay scale.”

He laughs and begins to slice his steak again. “I love to read. Always have. I remember reading The Iliad in fifth grade and never looked back.”

I file that snippet away for later. If there is a later.

I look at him and grin.

Please be a later.

He nods before pulling in his brows. He leans back and pulls his phone out of his pocket. His features tighten and he glances up at me. “I realize how rude this is, but this is a call that I’ve been waiting on for a week. I really need to answer.”

“Go, please . . .”

He stands and jets off to the other side of the room. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but I can tell it isn’t a pleasant conversation. His hand runs through his hair, his shoulders stiffening more and more as the conversation goes on. Despite being obviously angry, he’s still hot as hell. Maybe hotter, actually. His body moves so powerfully, so confidently, the suit flexing and moving around his body like it was made for it. Maybe it was.

He slips the phone into his pocket and turns his back to me, pausing for a few long seconds before facing me again. He comes towards the table, the frustration melting into a grin that, in turn, melts me.

“I hate to say this, trust me when I say that, but I have to get to the office. I—”

“It’s okay,” I say, rushing to stand. I smooth my dress down and try to play off my piercing disappointment. I can’t look him in the face for fear he’ll see just how much.

I inhale a deep breath of his musky scent and commit it to memory.

There will not be a later.

“It’s not okay,” he groans. “I’m not happy about this and if there was any way at all I could get around it, I would. But it’s something that requires my immediate attention.”

He tilts his head to study my face. I don’t look away. I just let him see what he wants.

“One of the pleasures of being everyone’s boss?” I ask.

“Something like that.” He bites his lip before releasing it with a flourish. “Are you going away with Presley this week?”

“Not this week. I have to work.”

He takes a deep breath and holds it. “I have a proposition for you.”

“Oh really?”

My stomach twirls with anticipation. I don’t know what he’s thinking, but the glimmer in his eye tells me to hold on tight.

“I have a business trip this week. I’d like you to go with me.”

What?

I furrow my brows, sure I’ve misunderstood him. Yet when I look up, I can see a twinge of uncertainty hidden just beneath the surface.

“Excuse me?” I ask.

His face darkens, the uncertainty gone. “I’d like you to accompany me this week. It would be a few days out of town. I’ll take care of everything. Just join me.”

“I . . . I can’t.”

“Why not?”

I take a large gulp of air and it does nothing to calm my thundering heartbeat. I have no idea why he thinks this is a good idea, but even after spending the last hour or so with him, I still barely know him. Do I like him? Yes. Absolutely. Would I have gone home with him? Again—without a doubt. But out of town? That’s entirely different.

“I really can’t. I have to work,” I say, keeping it simple.

“I’ll double your pay.”

“Fenton—”

“Triple it. Quadruple it.” He steps closer to me, pulling me even more into his realm. “When I saw your picture this morning, there was something in your eyes that reeled me in. Yes, you’re insanely beautiful. And now I know you’re intelligent and funny. But there’s still something behind those blue—or is it green?—eyes that I want to discover.”