“Men like him are more work than they are fun, Am,” I say pragmatically, trying to convince both of us.
She smiles warmly when I use the shortened form of her name. Definitely, I need to loosen up. “I’m glad we did this. You eat at your desk so often I wasn’t sure you’d accept a lunch invitation.”
“I appreciate you asking.” I mean it. It’s nice having a friend. “We’ll do this more.”
“Good. Actually…” Her pausing gives me pause. “I was going to ask you for a favor.”
Ah. I remember why I was keeping to myself now.
My smile is plastic. “Oh?”
“Daniel asked me to attend a function on Saturday but my sister is having a baby shower. I know, a baby shower on a Saturday night? It’s inhumane.”
I agree.
“Anyway”—she waves a hand—“It’s at the art institute. Daniel needs someone who’s good at mingling to be the ‘face of our division.’”
I bet. Daniel and “mingling” go together like foie gras and peanut butter. “You were going to be his date?”
“I’m trying to eat.” She holds two fingers to her lips and pretends to be nauseous, which is pretty funny. “Would you mind going in my place? It’s a paid gig, and I’d feel better telling him I can’t do it if I could offer you up as my replacement.”
“You mean human sacrifice?”
She chuckles. “To be clear, Daniel won’t be your date either.”
“Good. I’d hate to be sick on this lovely croissant.”
“But he’ll want you to stay close so you can bail him out of any uncomfortable conversations.”
I could do that. Mingling at functions used to be second nature to me. I could use the extra pay. Plus, and this is what ultimately tips me, a boujie gathering will attract a lot of fancy folk. The Owens might be in attendance.
“What’s the actual date?” Not that I have plans on any Saturday night.
After she tells me, I hear myself accept with, “I could use the overtime.”
“Thanks, Vivian!” She brightens. “If I can return the favor, let me know.”
My heart races at the possibility of seeing Nate again. How disturbing. I frown.
“The dress code is black and white,” she tells me before returning to her own sandwich. “I’m sure Daniel will wear that horrible suit that makes him look like an undertaker.”
I know just the one she means.
“And, hey, the Owens might even be there.” She waggles her eyebrows.
“I guess anything’s possible,” I say as if I hadn’t thought of it yet.
I smile before taking another bite of my sandwich. I’ll have to wear a dress Nate hasn’t seen yet.
Just in case.
Nate
“An evening under the stars,” Benji reads from the invitation sitting on my desk. He stopped by Grand Marin to take me to lunch but I’ve yet to finish returning emails. “So original.”
“Those events are all the same,” I say distractedly before closing my laptop.
“When are you going to hire a new assistant?” My brother sounds peeved. He has no problem handing over his to-do list. Archer and I tend to hold ours close. Archer because he’s a control freak and me…for sort of the same reason. It’s hard to trust someone else with my baby, aka whatever site I’m currently building. I wasn’t kidding when I told Vivian I do my own dirty work.
“That last email I fired off was in response to a new virtual assistant,” I inform Benji. “Happy?”
“Ecstatic,” he answers, deadpan. “Took you long enough.”
I have a shit-ton of work to do. I’m fooling myself trying to handle it on my own. My last virtual assistant, Sylvia, quit after she became pregnant. “I’ve been busy.”
“You like doing everything yourself. Admit it.”
“It’s the hustler in me.” I pocket my keys and lock my temporary office. The drywall I demolished has been replaced. Beck wasn’t happy about having to redo the job, but he did it anyway. Benji hasn’t let me live it down.
He knocks on the wall as he walks by. “Did you see her again?”
“Beyond dinner?” I ask. No use pretending I don’t know who he’s talking about. “No.”
“Really.” As he holds the door open for me, I blank my expression for clues that I give a fuck. I do, so I’m careful not to bat an eyelid.
I walk toward my Tesla, sweat already beading my brow. It’s a scorcher today. I’m anticipating settling into its perfectly cooled interior. Gotta love technology.
“You’re interested, though,” he observes. “I can tell.”
“I’m interested in Vivian Vandemark because I like to keep bureaus close.” That and the warm vanilla scent on her skin drives me wild. After dinner, when I was standing at the valet station with her, I saw the exact moment her eyes darkened. She wanted me to kiss her. Her lips parted and she tilted her head ever so slightly. She was silently begging, and I’ll bet you a thousand dollars she had no idea she was doing it.
I didn’t give in, which I’ve regretted more than once. I can’t decide if I was testing her or testing myself.
“Well, then, I suggest you RSVP yes to the Stargazer event Saturday on behalf of Owen Construction.” My brother plunges his hands into his pants pockets.
“Why? Because you’d rather not?”
“I’ll go with you if you want.” He shrugs.
“And do what, pencil pusher?” A joke. He’s great in a group of stiffs and, unlike me, everyone likes him instantly. It’s the big-ass grin that makes him approachable, or it could be his perfectly straight nose. My large frame and crooked facial features tend to spook the locals. But not Vivian, I think with a smug curve of my lips.
“A representative of CRBI will probably be there, you know.”
I hadn’t considered Vivian might be in attendance. My interest spikes. I try to hide it with a blasé, “And?”
“Like you don’t want to see the woman consuming your every thought.”
Every other thought, maybe, but not every.
“Haven’t seen you this distracted in a while. Not since Deb—”
“That was a long time ago, Benji.” Eons. And the only way she ever “consumed” me was praying-mantis style. “I don’t fraternize anymore. A dinner here or a professional function there is acceptable. A full-on affair?” I shake my head but it’s hard to do when my entire body is screaming YES. An affair with Vivian is too tame a term for what would happen if we wound up in bed together. We’d incinerate the sheets to ash. Cinders would burn for days…
“Sure, Nate. Whatever you say.”
“Don’t push me,” I warn, pointing at the car for him to get in. “Unless you’d like me to start asking a bunch of questions about Cristin.”
“Ask away,” he says easily as he slides into the car. “She’s a family friend, and arguably my closest ally.”
“Ally. Could you be more of a robot?” I reverse out of Grand Marin, vowing to take my car in for a bath today. Have to clean her up since I’ll be visiting the art institute on Saturday.