Before I can argue any more, Winona rushes into the foyer, out of breath and two minutes late. I hold up my wrist, glance at my watch, and tap it meaningfully. She ignores me and waves her thanks at the maître d’ who just ushered her in, and he beams back at her like he just received benediction from the Pope.
Winona is a human dopamine shot. She’s funny and cheerful, and something about being in her presence just makes people smile. Even Thérèse, who should have been horrified by how badly Winona made a mess of things her first day, adores her. She sent me an email asking how long it would be until they could get Winona back. Her warmth draws people like a campfire on a cool fall night.
And for the good of the company, I am going to force her to quit.
And I am not going to feel bad about it.
“Alice! Tamara! I’m so happy to see you again.” Winona beams at them. Her smile vanishes as she looks at me. “Blake.” Her voice goes flatter than a week-old balloon. “Here you are. Or do you prefer Mr. Hudson?”
“It’s a little late for that now, isn’t it? And speaking of being late, punctuality is required in your contract.” I glance at my watch again.
Alice elbows me in the ribs. “Just so you know, if you look at your watch one more time while I’m having lunch with you, I’m going to dump the contents of my plate on your head.” She smiles sweetly as she says it.
“I knew I liked you the moment I first laid eyes on you.” Winona smirks. Then she frowns at me. “Okay, Blake, I have a heck of a lot to do today. You sent me a message saying to meet you here. It was marked urgent. What’s the emergency?”
I ignore her, turning to speak to the waiter who’s just appeared by my side. “Is our table ready yet?”
“Yes, sir, right this way.”
Winona shoots me an angry look, but she follows us. I grin to myself. This is fun. I’m going to miss her when she’s gone.
She tries again when we reach our table. Alice, Tamara and I sit, but Winona remains standing. “You asked me to meet you here?” she repeats.
“I did draw the pentangle and make the proper incantations to summon a succubus, yes.”
“Speaking of which…” Winona leans down and presses her bangle-covered wrist up against my hand, then shakes her hand. A sensual glow pulses through me at her touch, and I stifle a low groan. “Do you feel a burning sensation? No? Okay. Silver doesn’t work then. I’ll add that to my list. Anyway, you needed something?” Impatience edges her voice.
“A lot of things.”
I glance at the waiter. “We’d all like coffee, except for the young lady, who would like orange juice. We’re not ready to order yet.”
“Please,” Winona adds.
“I know, right?” Alice nods in exasperation. “I am trying to set a good example for my daughter by emphasizing manners, Blake.” She shoots me an annoyed look.
“Yes, sir.” The waiter scurries away. Across the room, I spot the governor and his wife in a booth by the wall, and I wave at them. They wave back.
“Blake?” Winona’s voice rises sharply.
“Mom, I have to use the lady’s room,” Tamara speaks up suddenly, and stands up.
“We’ll be right back,” Alice tells me. She winks at Winona. “Don’t go easy on him.” I skewer her with a scowl as she and Tamara walk away.
Winona plops down onto the chair. “Blake. You called me here to eat lunch, which I could have done back in my office?”
“No.” I smile, eyes gleaming with malice. “I called you here because I needed something done, then I realized I could have Henry do it. So now you’re going to stay here and eat with us in case something else comes up. And it’s not your job to question your assignments.”
“I came all this way for nothing?” Her voice rises in dismay and anger.
“Not at all. You came all this way because I told you to.”
Her eyes spark with annoyance. “I really should just go back to the store. I have a very long list of things to get done before I stagger home in the wee hours.”
“I know. I made the list.” I smile, radiating evil humor. “And I can add to that list.”
A big family group bustles by us, following the waiter. I vaguely recognize a couple of them from Norfolk’s racquetball court, which is located in the health club on the second floor. The Abelards. Grandparents, parents, a small clot of those time-sucking inconveniences that people refer to as “children”. I love my niece, but that doesn’t mean I can allow myself to indulge any paternal urges. My father managed to juggle family and work – barely. I am not the man my father was.
“Yes, sir, I’m sorry, sir,” Winona says loudly, in a shrill, frightened voice. “I’ll check to make sure that every last one of those families have been evicted and relocated to the homeless shelter.”
The Abelards turn as one and look at me in horror. The white-haired matriarch steps protectively in front of one of the grandchildren.
Winona raises her voice even louder. “And the animal shelter should be closed down by tomorrow morning.” She picks up her napkin and pretends to sob into it.
Now they’re staring with open revulsion. They turn and stomp to their table, shooting me evil looks.
“Seriously?” I snap at Winona.
“What?” Winona drops her napkin and smirks at me. “I read the contract very thoroughly. It said I had to get my tasks done, and in a timely fashion. I didn’t see an ‘act your age’ clause.”
A rush of heat and anger battle inside me. Why is it that the more we scrap, the harder my dick gets? That line between lust and hate – it’s microscopically thin. It’s a razor’s edge.
I pull out my phone and start typing, my fingers flying. Then I hit send. Winona’s work cellphone bleeps with the message tone I assigned it – the sound of a whistle announcing the start of a work day. She pulls it out and looks.
“Blake!” she hisses. “You son of a bald hamster. You just sent me so much pointless busywork that I won’t be done until midnight.”
“Mess with the bull, get the horns.” Oops. That came out way pervier than I meant it to. There she goes, short-circuiting my synapses again.
As if reading my mind, she casually brushes her knee against mine, sending a rush of heat through my body. “Sorry,” she coos seductively. She deliberately knocks her napkin off the table and bends over to pick it up off the floor. Her head is under the table. And all the blood in my body has rushed south.
She takes her sweet time retrieving the napkin, and brushes up against me again as she resurfaces. “Where were we again? Oh yes, you were being a tantruming, petty son of a bitch because you think you can make me quit. And I was handling it like a champ.” She takes a sip of water.
“Keep it up. I can work you all night long, Winona.”
She chokes and splutters. “You can what?” she wheezes when she gets her breath back. “What did you just say to me?”
“I can keep you at work all night long,” I lie smoothly.
“That is not what you just said!” She coughs into her napkin, her face flushed. The flush travels down her throat, lighting the creamy skin of her bosom with a rosy glow. Yes, she wants me – every bit as much as I want her. I’ve seen the way she looks at me, her gaze lighting on inappropriate body parts, her teeth sinking into her plump lower lip.