“Yeah. Looks that way.” She put a hand to her side. “Have you even worked up a sweat?”
Dom laughed. “I’ve been at this a little longer than you. You’re doing great!”
“Thanks for the approval.” Calli rolled her eyes.
“I didn’t mean that . . . ugh. Never mind.” Damnit, he’d screwed up again.
But then she smiled widely. “Joking.”
Trish’s double-whistle called them back to the door for the rest of the drills to begin. Dom said a little thank you to whatever gods might be listening when Trish told them to pair up. The workout was another of Trish’s favorite—boxing—so he barely listened as she explained the sequences. As they started, he helped Calli with the jabs, hooks, and uppercuts. They teamed well, anticipating and responding to each other, and fell into easy conversation in between.
“Ouch,” Dom said. “You have one hell of an uppercut.”
She glared at him. “And you’re being overdramatic.”
“No, I’m serious. Have you had any self-defense classes?”
Calli laughed and punched the boxing pads harder. “My dad signed me up for one when I told him I was moving to the Cities for college. He said I was small and needed to know how to do more than—I quote—kick ‘em in the balls. So, yeah. But that’s been twenty years.”
“I hear the instinct doesn’t really go away.”
“Well, you’re about to knock me over with yours. We’re not a great pairing, physically.”
“I think you’re wrong there.” He looked at her suggestively.
“Dom. No.”
“All right.” He held up his hands in surrender.
~ ~ ~
When the workout and cooldown were done, they walked side by side to the locker rooms. Dom wanted desperately to pull her to him, but he resisted and watched her walk into the women’s area. Then he decided and quickly rushed into the men’s locker room, showered, dressed casually in jeans and a sweatshirt, and headed for the parking lot. He pulled around and parked, quite illegally, with the passenger door facing the door to the gym. Stepping out, he pulled on his gloves and tightened his scarf around his neck. He leaned on his car door and waited for Calli to come out.
Calli
Calli showered and dressed for work. The workout had been a killer but partnering with Dom had been good. They’d fallen into a nice platonic rhythm. She turned on the hair dryer and blew her hair in the wrong direction. After a minute, she turned it off and pushed the brown veil out of her face. Shit . . . Joe’s out. There’s a good chance my first meeting will be one-on-one with Dom . . . or worse . . . Dom and Pauline. She grabbed the round brush and started shaping her almost-dry hair. She couldn’t call off the meeting, she’d just spent the morning working out with him. She’d learned a ton about the restaurant industry over the last two weeks, but the meetings had been growing more and more charged. This was a munitions warehouse, about to explode.
She dressed, absently thinking of possible excuses to get out of the day’s meeting. She needed to stall until Joe could be there. He was safe—her buffer zone—and kept things level in the room. Without him there, Calli was afraid she’d do something foolish like calling Pauline out on her overt flirtation in the middle of the business meeting or asking her to leave due to nonprofessional behavior. Or, if she didn’t attend the meeting, Calli hated to think what she might do if she were alone with Dom.
Still considering how to get out of the meeting, Calli packed up her bag and headed out of the locker room, then passed reception and pushed open the doors into the cold. Her feet stopped, rooted in place, when she saw Dom straight ahead leaning against his car and smiling as if it were the best day of his life.
Shouldering her bag, Calli started walking . . . she had to pass him to get to her car. “What are you doing?” she asked as she neared.
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“No.”
“Waiting on you. The way I see it, your first meeting is with none other than . . . me.” He pointed to himself with both thumbs and grinned. “I think I should give you a ride.”
“I have my car here.” Shit-shit-shit! Definitely not getting out of it.
“I’d be happy to pick you up and bring you back here after work.”
Calli looked around the parking lot, the wind biting her cheeks. “Dom, it’s cold—”
“My car is warm.” His cheeks were red. How long had he waited?
She tilted her head. As many times as she’d told him it wasn’t a possibility, he remained optimistic. “Why?”
“Because I’m still trying. I’ve thought it through, and here are my thoughts . . . I don’t pay you directly. You make money off the money you make for me. We’re both paid by your work. You don’t technically work for me, so there’s no nepotism.” He held his arms wide. “Therefore, I think we should be able to give us a shot too. Outside the office.”
Calli pursed her lips. He had a point. There weren’t any explicit rules. But what if things didn’t go well? She’d still have to face him on office time.
He leaned toward her. “I see the gears turning.”
She slumped and jutted a hip. She was going to regret this, she just knew it. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
She was sooo going to regret this, but she was struggling to deny it. Throwing her arms to either side, she harrumphed and nodded. “Okay.”
“Yes!” He nearly jumped, but composed himself and opened the door, holding out a hand for her bag. He opened and closed the trunk, presumably putting her bag inside—next to his—and slid into the driver’s seat. He shifted into first with a small crooked smile, and they were off.
He was right, his car was warm as he’d had the seat warmers fired up. Her backside nice and toasty, she wondered how long he would have waited while she prepped. She returned his smile, giving into the magnetism that she always felt when he was near.
“Do we have to meet at your office?” he asked, then rushed to add, “Pauline isn’t joining us this morning, and . . . well . . . Joe’s a little busy with Little Joe.”
“Is that what they named the baby?”
“No, I think they named him Daniel. But since it’s just us, it might be less stuffy somewhere else.”
She thought for a minute. “I suppose we don’t. I have my computer, and as long as I can access the internet, we can pull up the information. Where are you thinking?”
He hesitated, then said, “Moretti’s? I can make espresso.”
Calli’s throat went dry and her stomach twisted as she remembered the morning after they’d been together. At least he hadn’t asked her to come back to his place. She tucked her hair behind her ear and said, “O-okay, I guess that’ll work.” The words were no sooner out of her mouth than she remembered—his loft was right above the restaurant.
Chapter 26
Calli
Moretti’s during the day was an entirely different environment—quiet, formal, and oddly stuffy. Calli scanned the dining room normally teeming with guests and wait staff while Dom made a path around empty, undressed tables and behind the bar where the espresso machine also sat silently. She followed, breaking through dust dancing in the streaks of daylight that filtered in from the reception area.