Chapter 6 #2
“Let me take you out to dinner tonight. There’s a wonderful little restaurant one town over in Hibiscus Harbor called the Silver Willow. How about I pick you up at seven?” Miles asks me as he pushes some of my hair behind my ear.
My breath catches and my stomach does a little flip-flop. “Okay. That sounds nice. Here’s my address.” I give him my address on a sticky note. “I’d give you my cell phone number, but apparently you already have it.” I give him a pointed stare.
“You shouldn’t put it on your business cards if you don’t want weirdos like me to randomly text.” His smile is so bright and charming, my panties are wet. He leans down and kisses me on my cheek. “I can help you clean this up…” he offers, but I shake my head.
“No. I’ve got it. Client confidentiality and all.”
He nods. “Okay, then, I’ll pick you up at seven. Lock this door behind me.” He pauses, a sexy gleam in his eye. “And Emma, I can’t wait for tonight.”
I smile as I watch him walk out of my office, my heart fluttering like a schoolgirl’s as I do as he says and lock the door behind him.
Glancing around at the disaster Frank created, I know I have a lot to clean up before my assistant sees this mess Monday morning. She’ll think I was having a rave without inviting her. I pick up her laptop and give it a rueful once-over. It looks like I’ll need to buy her a new computer.
Great.
I look around my office, breathing a sigh of relief now that the mess from Frank’s tantrum is finally cleaned up.
The coffee stain on the carpet is faint but only visible if you look close enough.
A tiny, irritating reminder of the chaos that man brings everywhere he goes.
I drop the last of the trash into the bin, wipe my hands on a paper towel, and glance at the clock.
Lunch is too far behind me, dinner is too far ahead, and I have this undeniable craving for something sweet to cut through the bitter taste of this day. A warm pastry—maybe one of Julie’s famous salted caramel éclairs—feels like the perfect antidote.
Grabbing my purse and keys, I head out, locking up behind me.
The fresh sea breeze greets me as I step into the sunshine.
Pelican Point is alive with its usual coastal charm, locals and tourists mingling in the shops and along the boardwalk.
Seaside Sweets popup shop is over by the docks just few blocks away, tucked between a surf shop and a boutique selling flowy beach dresses.
The bell above the door jingles as I step inside, the scent of sugar, butter, and cinnamon wrapping around me like a warm hug. Julie is behind the makeshift counter, her curly blonde hair pulled back into a messy bun, flour dusting her apron. She looks up and grins when she sees me.
“Well, if it isn’t the busiest woman in Pelican Point!” she teases, setting down a tray of freshly frosted cupcakes. “What brings you here? Sweet tooth or stress eating?”
“Both,” I admit, laughing. “I’ve had quite the day, Julie. Quite the day.”
Her eyes narrow with curiosity as she waves me toward the counter. “I need details. Coffee or tea?”
“Coffee, please. And one of those éclairs.”
“Coming right up,” she says, sliding an éclair onto a paper plate and pouring me a cup of coffee. She sets them in front of me and leans on the counter, clearly ready for the tea of the gossip variety. “Spill. What’s going on?”
I take a sip of coffee, savoring the rich warmth before diving into my story. “Okay, first, the other night, I had a one-night stand. No names, just really, really, great sex.”
“Oh, I like where this is going.” Julie smiles.
“The next day, Brennen is freaking out because the wine critic that was supposed to come next month, is a month early. So I tell him I’ll be there when the critic shows up.” I take a bite of my pastry.
Julie claps her hands, sending flour flying through the air, “Uh huh. Keep going.”
“So, I’m standing there at the winery when in walks…wait for it…the guy from the hotel room I woke up in that morning. Miles Dawson. The Miles Dawson—world renowned wine critic, Miles Dawson.”
Julie’s jaw drops, her green eyes wide. “And how’d that go? Was it awkward? Did he say anything?”
“Surprisingly, no. He did the tasting with Brennen but didn’t let on that he even recognized me. His tasting notes were thorough but fair.” I pause, biting into the éclair and closing my eyes at the perfect balance of sweetness and salt. “And then there was this morning.”
“Oh no. What happened?”
“Frank Morely,” I say, and her face instantly twists in disgust. “He showed up at my office, waving some ridiculous legal threat. He’s been suspended, but apparently, he doesn’t know how to quit while he’s ahead.
He made this huge scene, Julie. Papers everywhere, flipped my assistant’s desk, yelling—it was a disaster. ”
Julie shakes her head. “That man is the worst. How did you deal with him?”
“Here’s the kicker,” I say, leaning in conspiratorially.
“Miles walked in while Frank was mid-rant. He just calmly stepped in, shut Frank down with a body slam, face first, into the ground. He offered to help me clean up the mess after Frank stormed out, but I turned down his help. But Julie, something came over me and we ended up kissing. Hot, intense kissing.” I shake my head.
Julie’s eyes go wide again. “Oh my god, Emma, this sounds like something straight out of a romance novel!”
I laugh, shaking my head. “It didn’t feel romantic at the time. I was too busy trying to get Frank’s spit off my desk. But yeah, Miles definitely earned some points today.”
Julie rests her chin on her hand, a dreamy look in her eyes. “So, what’s next? Are you going to see him again? Tell me you’re going to see him again.”
“Actually, we have a date tonight,” I admit, my cheeks flushing.
Julie’s jaw drops again, and she claps her hands together. “Finally! Emma Murphy, you’re going on a date! It’s about damn time!”
“Calm down,” I say, laughing. “It’s not that big of a deal.”
“Are you kidding me? This is huge. When’s the last time you went on a date? College?”
I roll my eyes. “It hasn’t been that long.” I have to think back, though…has it been that long?
Julie raises an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “Well, I’m thrilled for you. Miles seems like a good guy. And if he can handle Frank, he can handle just about anything.”
“I think so, too,” I say, a small smile tugging on my lips. “I’m nervous, though. It’s been so long since I’ve put myself out there like this.”
Julie reaches across the counter, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. “You deserve to be happy, Emma. And from the way you talk about him, it sounds like Miles might be exactly what you need.”
“Thanks, Julie,” I say, feeling a little more confident.
She grins and starts packing a small box of pastries. “Here. Take these for dessert tonight. On the house.”
“Julie, you don’t have to—”
“I insist,” she says, sliding the box across the counter. “Consider it a ‘good luck on your date’ gift.”
I laugh, shaking my head as I take the box. “You’re the best, you know that?”
“Obviously,” she says with a wink. “Make sure he pays you back with his tongue.” She cackles at the horrified look on my face.