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Foster takes a seat at the end of my bed. “Would you like to go out to dinner?”
“We have work tomorrow.”
“We don’t have to stay out late. I thought it would be nice to be seen in public.”
I scowl. “You mean the once eligible bachelor with his new wife? Should we put on a show?”
“That’s not what I meant. If we’re going to make this work, we should be friends. I’ve been thinking about what you said a few days ago.”
I sit up, folding my legs to the side. Foster watches me as if I am a piece of chicken for a starving man. I assume he has a thing for women’s legs. “I’d like that. It’s hard to be around you when you’re angry at me all the time.”
“I wasn’t angry at you.”
“Who were you angry at?”
“Myself. I thought this would be easier.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Easier?”
“You’re a beautiful woman and quite likable.”
“A compliment? From the great Foster Black?”
Foster grins. “It’s true. Would you like to go?”
“I’d much prefer to share a meal at home with you.”
“That would be perfect. Maybe we can watch a movie tonight.”
“What? Foster Black wants to spend time with his wife?”
Now the grin on his face turns into a huge smile. “Shush, Paige.”
The way he says my name made me shiver. “What should we have for dinner?”
“Anything you want. Peters can pick it up, or I’ll have it delivered.”
“Barbeque?”
“You want Monster Barbeque? They make awesome ribs.”
“I would never expect you to agree.”
“I’m not all caviar and champagne. I hate the stuff.”
“Champagne?”
“No, caviar. I much prefer peanut butter on a cracker.”
“Now, I know you’re teasing me.”
Foster quickly slides over the duvet cover to tickle me. Caught off guard, peals of laughter leave me prone, and I am weak to stop him by the time he lets me go.
“Let’s order,” he states, “I’m starved.”
“It’s only four-thirty.”
“By the time it gets here, it will be after five. Any preferences?”
