Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Keats
It’s been a productive night so far. I’ve gotten a glimpse into Maren’s personal life. I heard about Arietta, her roommate, and I had the pleasure of meeting Bianca. I didn’t get an explanation for who she is to Maren, but I can tell the relationship is close.
Maren scrunches her nose as she looks at the paper menu that was placed in her hand once we were seated at a table in the corner.
Only one menu was offered. Maren grabbed ahold of it. I have no issue with a woman who knows what she wants, including what pizza she thinks the two of us should be dining on tonight.
“Number fourteen is a mystery pizza.” She taps her finger to her chin. “Are you allergic to anything other than Dudley?”
I laugh. “Other dogs and cats.”
Her face brightens with a smile. “I think we should trust Arietta and go with the number fourteen. The food smells delicious, so it can’t be a bad choice, right?”
I nod, even though I have no fucking idea what I’m agreeing to. I’m struck by how beautiful she looks with the small candle on the table between us illuminating her face.
I’ve met plenty of attractive women in my life, but Maren is different. She has a glow about her. Maybe it’s from inner peace or pure happiness. Hell, I can’t tell what it is, but I like it.
She orders the pizza and two bottles of domestic beer when the server revisits us to collect the menu.
“You like beer, don’t you?” She smiles. “Did you want something else?”
A kiss. Fuck, I want to kiss her.
“I’m easy.” I lean back on the wooden chair. “I eat whatever I can get my hands on.”
Even in this dimly lit space, I can see that she’s blushing.
I’d eat her all day and night if given a chance. My dick agrees. I shift on my seat to try and calm the bastard down.
I shouldn’t be rocking a hard-on during our business dinner.
Maren picks at a fake arrangement of flowers in a tall vase sitting on the edge of the table. I pushed it aside as soon as I sat down so I could have a clear line of sight. I want to soak in the view all night. I could stare at her for hours.
“What did you want to talk about?” she quizzes.
Marriage, kids, where she likes to vacation.
I swipe a hand over my forehead. I need to fucking stop. Being this infatuated with my assistant is a red flag.
The server returns with two bottles of beer and a basket filled with breadsticks.
I snatch one to keep my mouth busy. This is the first time I’m worried that my desire will outrun my brain and I’ll blurt out something I shouldn’t.
Maren watches as I chew. “Does it have to do with Pace and that picture?”
“His dick?” I ask as soon as I swallow.
She lets out a stuttered laugh. “Yes.”
“What a fucked up mess that was.” I shake my head.
“You swore,” she points out. “You owe…”
“A hundred.” I nod, taking another bite from the breadstick.
“I read the statement Pace posted to his Instagram account.” She touches the edge of the basket with her fingernail but pulls back. “You wrote that, didn’t you?”
I swallow the bread with a sip of beer. “How could you tell?”
“It was balanced.” She rests her forearms on the table. “I think if Pace had been in charge, it would have been something like, ‘You’re lucky you saw my penis, but it won’t happen again. Or it might.’ And he would have added the emoji with the tongue sticking out and an eggplant one too.”
I huff out a laugh. “That’s fucking hilarious, Maren.”
She laughs too. “Have you read his posts? I lost count of how many eggplant emojis he’s posted over the past few months?”
I laugh harder. “You’ve been stalking him?”
“Absolutely not.” She hiccups her way through a laugh. “I looked at his account when I met him. It was for research only.”
She drops her hand in the middle of the table when another hiccup falls from her. “Your hiccup cure. I need it.”
It’s not a fucking cure. It’s a distraction. If I keep her talking, the hiccups will fade away. It’s a trick my grandfather taught me a long time ago.
I don’t tell her that as I cradle her hand in mine in the middle of the small table. I press my thumb into her palm.
She hiccups again. “You said fucking hilarious, so you owe another hundred.”
It’s worth it to see the satisfaction in her expression whenever she catches me cursing.
“Pace and a few other athletes I represent are going to do a photo shoot in a few weeks.”
Sucking in a long, deep breath, she narrows her eyes. “That’s related to his dick pic?”
Hearing her talking about a dick makes me hard. I wish we were discussing mine, but patience reaps the greatest rewards in life.
I press her palm harder. “The guys will pose nude with strategically placed sports gear. The proceeds will go to an organization doing great research work for prostate cancer.”
The hiccups have vanished, but I hold tight to her hand.
She glances down. “That’s a brilliant way to spin this situation. You thought of it, didn’t you?”
Pride fills me. I’ve never worried whether a woman sees the best in me. I want Maren to know that there’s more to me than meets the eye.
I nod. “If you can spin a screw up into something beneficial, do it.”
She smiles in agreement. “I agree.”
Her gaze drops to her palm. “My hiccups are gone.”
I let go when I feel her tug her hand free of mine.
“Thank you, Keats.”
For what? For holding her hand while I talked to her? I’m the one who should be thanking her.
I search her face looking for a clue into how she’s feeling. She seems more relaxed than when she spotted Bianca outside the restaurant.
“What can I do to help with the photo shoot?” she asks quietly. “Do you need a photographer booked? Is there a place where you rent sports equipment, or will they bring their own? Should we get some robes for in between the shots, or are they fine to walk around nude?”
Forcing back a laugh, I smile. “I’ll need your help scheduling session times for all the guys. We’ll set up transportation to and from the studio for them. A few are flying to New York to do it, so we’ll have to get flights and accommodations sorted.”
She turns to where her purse is sitting on the table. With a slide of her hand inside, her phone appears.
Her lips move in silence as she repeats everything I just said. Her fingers fly over the screen of the phone. I assume to make notes of what needs to be done.
“I’ll take care of all of this for you.”
I want to take care of you. I open my mouth, wishing I had the goddamn courage to take the leap and say it.
I don’t, because I sense if I tell her that I’m falling for her, I’ll have her resignation in my hand within the hour.
She leans back when the server appears with two white plates and a large pizza.
I huff out a laugh when he places it on the table between us. He looks to me before his gaze settles on Maren. “Be careful. It’s hot.”
She only nods in response as her eyes widen at the sight in front of us. “What the hell is this?”
“It’s a number fourteen,” the server answers. “A grilled hot dog pizza.”