Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Did you do anything fun this weekend?” Kaitlin asked, directing the conversation to Grant.
The lit-up floor numbers above the elevator door seemed to descend more slowly than usual.
“I watched the football game yesterday. Did you see it?” Grant asked her.
I looked at Kaitlin long enough to see her nose crinkle. “No, I don’t care for sports.”
My eyes darted around the elevator, locking with Colin’s for several seconds. In that short time, I had about a thousand sensations rapidly firing within me.
The butterflies… the adrenaline… the intensity in his gaze… The only reason I looked away was because I sensed Grant watching me again.
Grant’s eyebrows were slightly furrowed, and his lips were tightly closed.
The door opened then with a chime that sounded far too loud, and I shot out of there, saying a quick, “Goodbye.”
When I returned to my desk, I was relieved to see that Grant wasn’t back yet. I sat comfortably and rearranged my desktop. Next, I logged in and got to work. Then, the end of the day came, and Grant hadn’t showed.
As I walked to my car, I texted him.
Me: Did you take a sick day?
Grant: Yes. I’ll be out tomorrow too.
Strange. He hadn’t looked sick, only… off.
But there were bigger things to worry about. Like the date I’d spent the entire afternoon pretending wasn’t occupying all of my thoughts.
Colin had texted a few hours earlier: I’ll pick you up at seven.
I had two hours to get home, shower, pick out something to wear, and get ready.
Totally doable.
Except my nerves were getting the better of me. I hadn’t even been this nervous before the trip to Chicago or before the meeting that never happened.
My mom called me right as I was drying myself off after my almost scalding shower.
“Hi, Mom,” I said, putting her on speaker while I ran a comb through my wet hair.
“Hello, sweetie. How was the weekend?”
I gave her a general summary. I didn’t leave out much, and she quickly understood where I was going with the story.
“Oh, he sounds enchanting! Are you enchanted?” she asked with a singsong quality to her question.
“I guess I am. When we got off the airplane, he asked me to dinner. We’re going out tonight.” I waited for her reaction.
“Well, that’s… interesting. Hmmm. And he’s your boss?” Her voice hinted at suspicion and concern rather than glee, as I’d expected.
“He’s my boss’s boss. He’s a vice president. But it’s not a big deal. Or is it? I’m being stupid, aren’t I?”
“No, you’re not stupid, but you should be careful. Things can get complicated fast.” It was unlike my mom not to tell me to take a chance on something. How many times had she tried to get me to go out more?
“Yes, I will. I’ll take things slow.”
“Okay, well, I hope you have a nice time. Call me tomorrow?”
“Yes, I will. Love you.”
“I love you, Katie.”
By the time I was ready, it was just minutes to 7, and I stared at myself in the mirror, pleased with what I saw. The only thing missing was a purse, and I rushed into my closet to find a small black one.
My doorbell rang as I was stuffing my lipstick, credit card, and ID into the purse. My stomach tangled up in a knot with nervous energy.
I smoothed out my dress and opened the door.
Standing there, looking impossibly gorgeous, was Colin Slade. The grin on his face put me at ease. And then I realized something else helped to calm my worries.
“You’re not wearing a tie!” I exclaimed with a laugh. “I’ve only seen you with a tie!”
He laughed with me. “I have one in my trunk. I can put it on if it’ll make you more comfortable.”
I shook my head. “You look…different. Nice different. You definitely look nice without a tie.”
His dark blue button-down shirt was under a gray sport coat. Nice? He looked as if he belonged on the cover of a magazine. I almost laughed out loud remembering Grant called him GQ.
Except that it was true.
“You look lovely,” he said.
“Thanks,” I said, locking the door and hoping my face wasn’t turning red.
He opened the passenger door for me, and I settled in, running my hands along the dark leather interior. A new thrill coursed through me when he sat down next to me and his hand brushed the gearshift.
“You’re so much more relaxed than the other night. Well, more than any other time I’ve seen you,” I said.
“I was on the clock,” he said, putting the car in drive. “A vice president is professional at all times. Even when he’s dying to ask out the beautiful woman at his new job.”
“It’s a problem, isn’t it? The fact that you’re my boss?”
“Yes, that is something that I guess we should discuss, though I wasn’t going to bring it up on our first date.”
My pulse quickened at the sound of the words “first date.” Was that implying he was looking forward to a second date?
He continued, “HR would have us sign a consensual relationship agreement when we… if we… if this seems like it would continue.”
“Got it,” I said, my fingers fidgeting at the awkwardness of the topic.
“How about we talk about something else for now?”
“Yes!” I agreed.
“Perfect. Tell me about your family.”
The quick change was jarring, but it was easy enough to give him a description of a happy life before my dad passed away ten years ago.
“When I was seventeen, a month before prom and graduation, my dad was in an awful car accident. He hung on for a couple of months, and I guiltily attended my senior prom. My mom was at my graduation while he was still between life and death in the hospital. But finally, they told us there was no hope of recovery—that his brain had lost all activity. My mom had to make the awful decision to let him go. It was so hard for her, and it wasn’t until I told her that it was okay that she gave the order to take him off the machines. ”
I didn’t mean to share that much, but with Colin, the words came easily.
“That must have been the hardest thing you’ve ever had to go through. I’m so sorry.” His voice was low and tender.
“It really was. For my mom too, for a long time. But she’s at a retirement community by the beach now, and her life is full of parties and friends.”
“And you?” His question opened up every insecurity I’ve had for the past decade.
“I had to be my mother’s support, but in the end, she’s been my everything since my dad died.
I miss having her close and us doing everything together, but I visit her most weekends.
My best friend lives in San Francisco. My life is more of comfy dinners at home, long walks in the evenings, small talk with acquaintances.
” I was wary about bringing up losing all of my friends right after talking about my dad’s death.
“Hmm,” he said.
“Is that too weird?” I asked, self-doubt jumping down my throat and threatening to choke me.
“Do you think it’s weird?” he asked.
“Not sure. My mom’s always saying I should get out more. I see pictures of everyone out all the time.”
“Social media isn’t real,” he said sharply.
“I know it’s all highly curated,” I said, glancing over at him, wondering what had struck a nerve. “Is something wrong?
He switched from driving with his left hand to his right, and his chest puffed up as he drew in a big breath. “I used to date someone who was into posting and wanted to be an influencer.”
“Was it annoying? Is that why you don’t like it?”
He was quiet for a moment. I was taken back to the couple of times he’d seemed the same way during our dinner in Chicago. Uncomfortable? Hesitant? Brooding? I couldn’t decide. Maybe all of them.
“I asked her to marry me. She said yes, and two weeks later I went to her apartment to surprise her with the news that my parents had secured the ballroom at the Ritz for the reception. Imagine my surprise when I searched for her in her shower, and she wasn’t alone.”
I gasped loudly, but he kept on. “Turned out that the whole thing, the entire relationship between her and me, was manufactured by both of them since I had connections and money so that they could profit from it. She’d already succeeded in gaining a million followers, mostly with videos about us and our relationship, and had a deal with a clothing line, something I’d helped her secure.
I cut her and all social media out of my life that day and never looked back. ”
“Colin, that’s awful. I’m so sorry.” It was tough to imagine getting to the point of wanting to spend your life with someone and them betraying you like that.
“I don’t usually share that with women on the first date,” he said after a long time. “Or with anyone ever, actually. What are you, a witch? What else are you going to get me to say?”
I laughed, but inside my heart broke for him.
“Where are we going?” I asked, realizing he hadn’t told me yet.
“It’s a surprise,” he said.
“Give me a hint?”
“They serve food.”
I was beginning to appreciate his humor. “Ha!”
We turned off the main road into a canopy of trees, the road narrowing. We emerged in a clearing where there was a paved parking lot that led to a small restaurant.
“This is just the throughway,” Colin said as he held the door open for me. We walked inside, walked a few feet past a bar and an empty indoor space. Colin walked in front of me and opened the next door.
We walked out to see a beautiful outdoor terrace on several sloping levels, lights strung from tree to tree, and wooden tables scattered throughout. Colin gave the hostess his name, and she ushered us to a table next to a small, working fountain.
He pulled my chair out. As I was working my way to the chair, my heel must have gotten caught on a raised brick from the floor, and I tripped. Mercifully, I fell toward Colin, and he caught me.
After the fear of falling started to fade, my senses returned. My hands were latched onto his arm and his chest, and even through his clothes I could feel the solidity of his muscles. They tightened to hold me up and put me back upright.
The hostess looked at us, clearly amazed, but I soon realized it was more in admiration of Colin.
“Are you okay?” Colin asked me, holding my arm until I sat down.
My face was on fire.
“Thanks for catching me. Yes, I’m fine.” I put my purse on the table and flipped my hair behind my ear.
Please sit down and forget that ever happened.
The hostess seemed reluctant to leave the table, and after she said our server would be right with us, she walked away with one last glance directed at Colin.
But he was looking at me.
“What do you think of the place?” he asked, his eyes just about as bright and inviting as I’d ever seen them.
“It’s really nice. I never would have guessed this was here when we were driving through the trees.”
“A friend of mine owns it. I was here at the opening a few months ago. He’s not here right now, but I remember it struck me as a great place to bring someone special.”
All thoughts of my embarrassing near-fall flew out of my mind to be replaced with his thinking that I was special.
“What makes me special?” The question slipped out before I could stop it.
“Many reasons. But we can start with what you said about yourself—that you’re kind and loyal. Things that aren't common to find in people, trust me.” He took a sip of his water and opened the drinks menu.
He must have been referring to his disloyal and unkind ex-fiancée. It was sad that he’d concluded that most people were like that if he thought I was special just because I wouldn’t do such a horrible thing.
When he looked back up at me, I smiled. I was giddy, excited, and hopeful. Could this work?
He put his hand out. I looked at it nervously but reached out and put my hand in his. The warmth from him as he caressed my palm with his thumb spread up my arm and right to my core. It was the first time we’d ever touched.
“This feels nice,” he said, a soft smile etched onto his face.
“It does,” I whispered back, feeling myself slip closer to him with every word and every brush of his fingers.