Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
The server arrived, and we both straightened as if we’d been caught doing something we shouldn’t have. Our hands slipped apart. It occurred to me that we hadn’t stopped staring into each other’s eyes for minutes. Now it had to stop so we could order, and the spell broke for a few moments.
His phone rang as we finished ordering. He looked at it, pressed the side of his phone, and slid it back into his jacket pocket.
“You can get that,” I told him.
“I just had to make sure it wasn’t someone from the board of directors.”
“Are you expecting them to call?” I asked.
“Always. At any time.”
I laughed lightly. “Part of the job description, I guess.”
“You’d be surprised how many things fall under my job description.”
“And what do you do when you’re not at work?” I asked, hoping I’d get some clarity on who this peculiar but sweet enigma was in front of me.
“Is it too much of a cliché to say I like playing golf?” He winced.
“Yes,” I teased.
“Well, brace yourself for the next one. Though I haven’t been able to do much of it lately. I was on the polo team at school and like to ride whenever I get a chance. We have a couple of horses at our country house. I’m also working on getting my flying hours.”
My mouth dropped open. “Um, anything like reading or TV shows?” I felt completely inadequate.
“It’s been some time since I’ve seen anything on TV, but I do like to read now and again,” he said.
“Well, I’ve never ridden a horse, never played golf, and certainly never flown a plane.” Did we have anything at all in common?
“I can teach you all of that,” he said, taking a sip of the wine they’d brought us.
“Teach me to fly?”
“Sure. Once I have my license.”
I was speechless. I can’t fly. Can I?
He raised his glass. “To a great evening with good company.”
I raised my glass as well and took the expected sip. He looked at me with those piercing blue eyes, and I didn’t have a clue how to make the damned butterflies in my stomach stop fluttering about.
“How was the meeting today with Maggie? Did she impress you?” I asked, hoping at least work would bring a sense of commonality between us.
He looked away from me and toward his glass, swirling the red wine, before he said, “She’s a star, that’s for sure. Even having been away for a week and with short notice, she spoke on behalf of your department and presented some numbers and leads impressively. I’m happy to work with her.”
There was something performative in his words, and I wondered if anytime he talked about work, he would revert to his CEO Colin Slade persona, even if we weren’t at work.
“That’s good. Not that I would expect anything less from Maggie. She’s brilliant and has really turned things around.”
“You’ve been there longer than she has?” he asked.
“I’ve been there almost five years now. Maggie moved from New York City about three years ago. Her predecessor was basically fired from one moment to the next. Kind of like Mr. Kirkman. We got no explanation.”
“You mean you and Grant?” He took a sip of his wine.
“Well, all of us, because Maggie said she wasn’t aware of why he’d been let go either. But yes, Grant and I have been assistant directors since before Maggie.”
“Keep doing what you’ve been doing. And that’s all I’m going to say about work tonight. I’d rather talk about you.”
“Me? I know almost nothing about you!” I said, the warmth creeping up to my face.
“I’m an open book,” he said.
“You’ve said you went to boarding school. Did you get into trouble there and need Mom and Dad to come bail you out by bribing the principal?”
His lip curled slightly. “Only once. My good friend Peter, and another kid, Lars, got caught stuffing toilet paper into all the toilets in the main hall bathroom. We figured we’d get out of having our finals if the septic tank backed up and the resulting disaster would have to get us all sent home.
Now I can’t even imagine what kind of damage that might have caused, but back then we thought it was the best idea in the world. ”
“How old were you?”
“Fifteen? Around there. Anyway, we got caught before any damage was done, and the headmaster was furious, of course. He called our parents, and the three of us were sentenced to a suspension. Peter, Lars, and I had to take our finals and were sent home right away, having to miss the end of the year dance and bonfire with the girls boarding school from a couple of miles away.” He sounded distant, as if he was recalling something from another lifetime.
“Peter said his dad gave a big donation to make sure that Peter’s record wouldn’t be affected.
I’m assuming that Lars’s parents did the same thing, as he had no problems the following year.
My parents, however, refused to give any donation, and I had to stay at the school the whole week after finals because my parents didn’t want me home early.
” There was a slight bitterness to his words, and I assumed it had been tough for him to feel abandoned by his parents.
“I had to hear all my friends come back from the dance and the bonfire while one teacher kept guard over me to make sure I stayed in my room. The following year I was forbidden leadership roles in any activity organized by the school because of my ‘record.’ I learned then that I alone was responsible for my future.”
I tilted my head. “Tough love?”
“Well, here I am, vice president of a Fortune 500 company, with all the privilege and power that I have, but I barely visit my parents. Peter is close with his parents, though I’m sure they’re still bailing him out whenever he makes a dubious investment. What do you think?”
Shaking my head, I said, “I’m not sure what’s better, honestly. I can’t imagine not speaking to my mom.”
“You get used to it,” he said, the earlier levity gone. After a beat, he seemed to rally, as if remembering he was on a date, and said, “To answer your question, yes, I got into trouble. But that was the only time. After that, I was much more careful not to get caught.” He winked at me.
“And now?”
“Now I’m here with you. Wondering if you’re going to get me in trouble.”
I sat up straighter. “I’m very well-behaved.”
“That’s what I like about you. Don’t take what I’m about to say in a bad way, because I mean it in the best way possible,” he warned me. “You’re the ‘girl next door.’”
I didn’t take offense at it. If anything, it felt like an invitation.
“So how do the girl next door and the rich executive get along?” I asked, curious to hear his answer.
“They bring out qualities in the other that may be hidden or repressed. They infuse excitement and knowledge into each other. They open each other up to explore and create new ways of living.”
“You’re so optimistic,” I said, wondering how that coexisted with the cutthroat persona of a workaholic vice president who hardly speaks to his parents.
“I like to think I’m more of a visionary. I find the spark and help it ignite. You can’t make a fire out of nothing, and I don’t pretend you can make that happen.”
The way his eyes searched me, as if he were looking for that spark in me. In us, possibly?
I trusted him when he said he was a visionary. I believed in him, too. The confidence he exuded was somehow giving me confidence.
Our food arrived, and the conversation dwindled to comments about the food and the ambiance as we ate.
I savored every delicious bite of the lobster ravioli I had ordered.
I wondered if he relished his meal as much as I did, since he was probably used to eating at gourmet restaurants. Then I remembered he liked to cook.
“Would you be able to recreate this meal?” I asked. “You said you can cook.”
He brought his napkin to his mouth as he finished chewing his last bite.
“I can. I’ll make it even better if you agree to a second date at my place.”
My pulse quickened. Warmth spread through me as my brain tried to comprehend that this was actually happening.
“I…uh… I’d love for you to show me what you can do.” As soon as I said it, I was compelled to rectify, “In the kitchen.”
He chuckled. “Why don’t I start with a different meal? My specialty. It’ll be a surprise.”
“You like surprises, I see,” I said.
“I enjoy giving surprises. Not getting them. Especially not bad ones.”
“No one likes bad surprises,” I pointed out.
“True. I guess I only get the bad kind and not the good kind.”
“That’s a shame,” I said.
“You’re not going to pity the rich kid now, are you?” His eyes were dancing with mirth, betraying that he was funnier than he alleged.
I rolled my eyes. “Absolutely not.”
We ordered dessert, and then Colin suggested we have another drink at a bar he liked.
“If you’re willing to keep the night going,” he said while dropping his credit card into the bill folder.
“Just for a bit. I have to go to work tomorrow, you see. What would my boss say if I got there late?”
“Maybe he’d understand that something important came up.
” The way we both smiled at each other for a full minute might have looked ridiculous to anyone watching us.
But I was entranced by everything about him.
His eyes, of course, would draw anyone in, but spending another whole dinner with him made me sure of one thing—I was dangerously close to falling head over heels for Colin Slade.
I wasn’t sure what sort of bar I’d pictured, but before I knew it, we were downtown, stepping into an elevator that carried us to the hotel rooftop.
The doors opened to a bustling atmosphere of deep house music, floral and green walls strategically partitioning various sections, and an enormous bar right in the center.
Of course, the view from so high above transformed everything.
The glow of the city lights and the towering buildings surrounding us gave the night an effortless kind of grandeur.
We stepped out of the elevator, and Colin put his hand on the small of my back to guide me to the bar. It was the second time he’d ever touched me, and I was acutely aware of it.
He pulled his hand away as we approached the bar, and I sorely missed having it there. I wondered whether he would kiss me. I had taken it for granted that he would, but now I wasn’t so sure.
We’d hardly had any physical contact, and he’d already brought up the form we would have to sign with HR. He probably didn’t want to do anything until that was taken care of.
“What would you like?” he asked me and ordered for us while I took in the people around us.
Everyone was dressed as you’d expect for a rooftop bar like this.
A mix of classy elegance and sexy. Conversation seemed to flow easily between groups, and I found myself wondering if I’d ever look as effortless and graceful as the women I was admiring.
Could I ever fit in? Or would this always feel like a world I was only visiting? I supposed it was something I might find out if we ended up dating. Again, the idea seemed so ludicrous that I pushed it away and tried to focus on the moment.
“Cheers,” he said, holding up his glass, and I echoed the sentiment.
We walked around, settling on an empty, tall table where I put the glass down.
I sensed the coolness of the evening and tried to ignore it, but I shivered without meaning to.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
“Just a little,” I said, passing my hands over my upper arms. Before I had finished saying it, he had taken off his jacket and put it on my shoulders.
“Thank you,” I said, warming myself in the scent of him from his jacket. The faint smell of his cologne enveloping me did things to my brain.
“You look cute in my jacket,” he said.
“Well, it’s a very nice jacket,” I managed to say.
We continued to talk and banter in this manner for a bit. I didn’t want the night to end, but when I looked at the time and saw that it was nearly 11 o’clock, I knew what the right thing to do was.
“What is it?” he asked. He must have sensed my worry.
“I should be getting home,” I said reluctantly, taking off his jacket and handing it to him.
“Yes, of course. Let’s go.”
Again, he put his hand on the small of my back and guided me to the elevator.
Third time he’s touched me. I kept wishing there’d be another moment like that, but he kept his hands to himself all the way to the car after that.
On the drive back to my house, Colin’s phone buzzed again. I couldn’t tell if the caller was a board member because Colin was speaking in Japanese, leaving me in awe once more.
“How many languages do you speak?” I asked when he hung up.
“Sorry about that. I speak Japanese and Spanish fluently. There are a few others I can get by in and understand.”
“Impressive,” I said. “I can practice my rusty Spanish with you.”
“Cuando quieras, belleza,” he said. I tried to translate it mentally but was unable to.
“What did you say?” I asked.
“I see we have our work cut out for us. I said, ‘Whenever you want, beautiful.’”
Butterflies again. Everywhere all at once.
We were approaching my apartment, and he parked in an open space right in front.
“Yo no hablo mucho espanol,” I said horribly.
“Well, that didn’t sound too bad. There may be hope for you yet,” he said, getting out and coming around to open my door. He walked me to my front door.
This was it. My heart was hammering against the walls of my chest. Either he’d kiss me—or he wouldn’t.
I unlocked the door and turned toward him. That’s when his phone lit up again.
I wasn’t intending to snoop, but the name flashed clear as day—M Flame.
“Sorry, one second,” he said, and moved back toward his car.
I wondered what had happened to warrant a call this late at night from Maggie.
When he came back, he had a smooth smile on his face. “Forgive me. These members of the board of directors believe that I’m at their beck and call twenty-four hours a day, ready to hear any harebrained suggestion.”
I froze.
Board of Directors? What?
It had clearly said M Flame on his screen. It could only be Margaret Flame.
Maggie.
My boss and his subordinate.
Calling really late on a Tuesday evening and Colin lying about it.