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“I prefer wine with my dinner, whether business or pleasure. I hope you’ll join me.”
“Just a glass for me.”
The waiter nodded. “Your wine and salads will be out shortly.”
He walked off. Rowan had returned to toying with her silverware. “You selected a red blend.”
“I did.”
“I figured you for a purist.”
“I find the blends pull the best of the grapes in, making them a complex taste that suits me.”
She nodded. “I agree. That’s what I usually order.”
“Did I surprise you?”
“A little.” She still hadn’t looked at him, so he reached over and tapped her hand, quickly pulling his back, against the tide of his wishes.
“We’ll be working closely together on this project, so maybe we should find a way to get along, make this easier on both of us.”
“Oh, I’d like that very much. A lot is riding on this bid. I don’t want to screw it up.”
“I don’t think you could screw up anything beyond repair.”
She chuckled. “Thank you, but you have no idea.”
He sat back, arching an eyebrow as he rubbed his chin in mock severity. “That sounds like a story ripe for the telling. Should I have vetted you further before hiring you?”
“No. Not at all. No stories here.”
Most people wouldn’t have noticed the slight tension showing around her lips and eyes. He noticed everything about her. There were secrets in her past, and he wanted to know them. Tonight, however, was not the night for that. He took the high road, determined that, at some point down that road, he and Rowan would have a true heart-to-heart.
Their wine arrived, and he enjoyed watching her take her first sip. She didn’t swirl the glass or look at the color, but closed her eyes and savored the taste.
“Mmmn. This is very good.”
She’d probably freak if she knew what the wine cost. Gerard loved the taste of wine and refused to waste his time on mediocre vintages. He bought the best.
“I’m glad you like it.” He glanced over her shoulder and groaned.
“What?” she said, starting to look over her shoulder.
“Don’t turn around. And please, anything you’re about to hear must be kept strictly confidential.”
“A-all right.”
“Well, isn’t this sweet.” Brittney Larson stopped beside their table, piranha smile firmly embedded on her face. How had he ever thought she had something special? Never again.
“Brittney, it’s not smart for you to be here.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rowan’s eyes widen.
“Can I help it if we both enjoy the same restaurant?” She eyed Rowan, one hand twirling a strand of her perfectly curled, platinum blonde hair. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your flavor of the month?”
Expressive eyes became slits as Rowan opened her mouth to answer. He held up his hand, hoping she’d take the hint and stay quiet. If he didn’t handle this right, it would end up as part of the lawsuit. Or worse, splashed on every smut rag for sale in grocery stores. Brittney was a vindictive bitch, and he should have figured that out before he slept with her.
“No, I’m not introducing you. You’re supposed to stay away from me, Brittney. The restraining order says so.”
