“The Goose wasn’t busy.” He tipped his head toward the window. “The blizzard kept people home. Hungry?”
Not for food, no, but, alas, plain old hunger was the only appetite she could satisfy with her client without putting her long-fought-for professional goals at risk. “Sure.” She patted the other sofa cushion. “Sit. Please. You must be hungry, too.”
“I could eat,” he replied, and sat, but his half smile suggested he was open to other things, too.
No, no, no, Izzy. Don’t go there. Just because the man’s purely-for-show kisses got you so hot you could melt a polar cap is no reason to cross a professional boundary.
But then he reached into the bag and handed her a to-go box, and their fingers accidentally brushed. A tactile memory of his fingertips brushing her cheek had her face heating. To hide the fact that she was about to go up in flames, she focused on unboxing her meal.
Nothing to get excited about there, though, good God, it appeared to be exactly what she’d requested. Even Danny, who ordered their working late, dinner-at-their-desks take-out meals more often than she wanted to contemplate, occasionally forgot one or two of her food restrictions.
Perhaps he picked up on her surprise because he paused in the middle of unboxing his own dinner. “Everything okay? One plain, lean burger, medium. Dijon on the side. Right?”
She nodded and struggled for a tone of casual gratitude rather than total shock. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”
He opened his box, and she eyed his meal with a deep-seated food envy she hadn’t experienced in a long time. The massive double burger dripping with melted cheese, bacon strips, and some kind of spicy red sauce that stung the tip of her tongue just looking at it sat on a generous bed of wide-cut fries.
Maybe he caught her looking, or maybe she let out a sound, because he paused in the process of picking it up and looked at her. “Sure you don’t want some of this? There’s plenty.”
She shook her head. “No, thank you. I’ll stick with mine.” Using the plastic utensils tucked in the box, she cut herself a bite of her plain burger.
“Grab a handful of fries, at least.”
Uh-uh. Her stomach lining wouldn’t thank her. “I’m good. You enjoy.”
He twisted the cap off a bottle of beer and placed it by her box. Another thing she wouldn’t be indulging in this evening, but she kept that to herself and simply mumbled a thanks around a bite of her meal.
“No problem,” he replied and cracked the cap on a bottle for himself. After taking a bite of his burger and washing it down with a swallow of beer, he fixed his eyes on her. “You’re very disciplined, aren’t you?”
She knew he meant with her diet, but even so, she couldn’t hold back a pained laugh. “You don’t know the half of it.”
“I guess I don’t.” He smiled around a bite of fries. After swallowing, he added, “This is another guess, but I’m thinking you don’t spend much time in the great outdoors, either, camping, hiking, fishing and whatnot.”
“No.” She shook her head. “Not much.” Zero, to be precise.
He tipped his head to the side. “So, why jump on this assignment? I mean, the sale of my interest in the airfield is a big deal to me, but I recognize it’s not a multibillion-dollar strategic merger of international conglomerates. For the right attorney, it’s a sweet assignment with lots of little destination-based fringe benefits, but not for you.”
Hmm. He had her there. She pushed her box o’ dinner away. “Well, when the managing partner of your practice group taps you for an assignment, you don’t say, ‘Thanks, but no thanks,’ if you value your career.”
He nodded. “And you do.”
“Of course. Nobody just falls into the law. It takes four years of undergrad studies and, oh, better graduate with a kick-ass GPA and ace the LSAT if you want a shot at a top-tier school. Then claw your way through three years of law school and stay in the upper ten percent of your class if you want to work for a top-flight firm.”
“And where does it all get you?”
To a frozen hell called Captivity? “To partner,” she answered. He seemed to want honesty, so why sugarcoat it? “When Chuck called me into his office last week to discuss ‘something important’”—she made air quotes around the phrase—“I thought he was going to offer me the partnership I’ve been working my butt off to earn for the past five years, but no.” She swatted the perceived insult away with a hand. “Apparently I have one last hoop to jump through to prove my worth. He sent me here”—the other hand sailed out to gesture at the window—“to be your captive attorney for the duration of the deal. That’s right—ha ha—I’m captive in Captivity. No farmer’s market, no Bikram yoga, no Starbucks.”
“No fringe benefits, as far as you’re concerned.”
Her cheeks heated again, thinking of the fringe benefit she’d hoped for. She didn’t need to share that. “I wouldn’t say that. In the eyes of the entire town, I get to be your potential fiancée for a few weeks.”
“That’s not a fringe benefit.”
“No.” She rubbed her forehead where a headache threatened. “I told you I understood your need for a cover story for me being here, and I do. It’s done. It’s fine.”
“You’re not comfortable with the deception. I can tell. At first you were, but then after Lilah came up with the champagne, something changed. It presents a problem for you.” Blue eyes full of guilt fixed on her. “A problem I created, but you don’t want to tell me about. You’re involved with someone, and—”
“Ha. No. That’s so far off the mark it’s pathetic.”
“Then what?”
Oh, the guilt in those eyes. The guilt got to her. Layered on the sadness she’d perceived earlier, some sixth sense told her he shouldered more than his fair share of burdens. Her disappointment over him inadvertently acing her out of the sole fringe benefit this assignment offered shouldn’t add to them. With a deep breath, she assured him, “It’s nothing. Really. Don’t worry about it.”
Frown lines between his brows told her the man didn’t take empty assurances, even before he replied, “I do worry. I worry something I considered a harmless deception has put you in a difficult position. Pretending we’re involved is not part of your job description. I’ll just…” He looked down, then back to her. “I’ll come clean. I’ll go downstairs and tell everyone who you really are and why you’re really here.”
Then the whole town would actively oppose his choice to sell his interest in the airfield. And if they succeeded in changing his mind? Too bad, so sad, Izzy. Bye-bye partnership. She swallowed fast and reached for his arm. “No! Don’t do that. My problem is minor. It’s irrelevant. It’s…”