Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
SERVES HIM RIGHT
I’m not out with anyone. I’m at home working on a bracelet.
It’s Friday night, and Gill has been gone less than an hour.
If he had talked to Gill, Sam would have realized I was fibbing, but whatever—it serves him right.
It appeared from his texts that he’s not happy about my “date.” I smile.
It’s the first real smile I’ve flashed in the past six days.
Oh, yeah, it serves him right if he’s unhappy.
I wake up early Saturday morning feeling refreshed.
The sun is shining through my tiny windows, and I hope the sunshine means that snow and slush are soon to be a thing of the past. I’m ready for spring.
I know it’s only mid-February and, sadly, the groundhog saw his shadow.
An early spring may not be happening, but I’m going to hope the critter was wrong.
I make coffee and am preparing to work on a necklace when my phone rings.
I look at the display and see Sam’s name. He’s calling me at six in the morning?
“Hello?”
There’s silence on the line, and then I finally hear a breath. “MacKenzie? It’s Sam. Sam Stone.”
“Uh, yeah. I recognized your name on my caller ID.”
He ignores my snipe. “Am I interrupting anything?”
In other words, he wants to know if I brought my date home.
“No. Just getting ready to work on a new piece. Coffee is brewing. You know, the usual—for six o’clock in the morning.”
“Sure. Sure. That’s good.” He apparently didn’t catch that snide remark, either. He continues, “Um, look, I was wondering if you’d have dinner with me tonight.”
“Oh, Sam, I—”
He interrupts just as I am about to turn him down. “I’m taking a potential new client out to dinner, and I’d love to have someone on my side, er, at my side.”
“Gill could go with you.”
He chuckles in that damned sexy voice. “He refuses to wear a dress.”
I giggle as I picture Gill in a dress—it’s true he’s tall and quite handsome. “He’s got the long hair to pull it off, but his five o’clock shadow may clash with a dress.”
He laughs again and asks, “So? Will you go to dinner with me? I really hate these meetings where I’m supposed to be smooth. I’m not a salesperson.” He’s laying it on pretty thick—but I can identify with his assertion that he’s not really smooth. He sure hasn’t been smooth with me.
I sigh, feeling myself weaken. “Just dinner?”
“Just dinner. I promise.”
I’m kind of freaked out. I don’t really know how I feel. It could be his way of breaking off things gently—friend-zoning me. Ah well, I guess if I’m getting my heart broken, I’ll meet it head-on. “Okay, I’ll go. What time?”
“I’ll pick you up at six. We’re having drinks at six thirty and dinner afterward. Does that sound good?”
“Sure. I’ll be ready.”
“Thank you, MacKenzie.”
“No problem.” Yep. Friend-zoned. This is definitely going to suck.