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Evan finished another bite. “I’m the one who should be thanking you.”
The fact that I had my mouth full was the only thing that kept me from arguing with him. Well, not the only thing. There was the hum of excitement that ran up my leg from our contact. Our meals out in public had been prim and proper by comparison, the two of us separated by a table.
“If you hadn’t said what you did this morning,” he began, “the headlines on today’s stories wouldn’t have looked this good.”
I’d hated the thought that people would see my picture and view Evan as an abuser when he wasn’t. “What are they saying?”
He tapped his phone and handed it to me.
Somebody in Brooklyn better be watching his back.
Has the Shark of Wall Street met his true match? It turns out McAllister’s latest Minx is one tough broad from Brooklyn. After an attack this week left her with a shiner, Allie told us that as a Brooklyn girl, she doesn’t need a boyfriend to even the score for her. She’ll remember who wronged her and be sure to get even. The guy won’t ever see her coming, she promised.
Better watch out, whoever you are. This broad from Brooklyn is one tough cookie, and she means business.
I giggled when I got to the bottom of it. The picture that showed my bruising wasn’t as bad as it could have been, and most importantly, Evan wasn’t in the frame.
“Thanks,” he repeated.
“I was only looking out for my rep,” I joked. “Making sure they didn’t paint me as a victim. I’m nobody’s victim.”
He held up his beer bottle. “To not being a victim.”
I clinked with him and drank.
“Or looking like one.” He handed me the other bag.
Tentatively, I opened it, a smile coming to my lips. Six different shades of concealer were inside.
“So you can go into work,” he said. “And not be judged.”
My eyes got a little misty. “Thanks.” I leaned over and planted a kiss on his cheek. My heart did a little flutter at how considerate he was.
As I pulled back, his hand came around my neck to keep me close. His eyes held that desire again and lingered on my lips, the same look I’d seen yesterday.
Nervousness raged as goose bumps raised on my arms. He’d called mehisgirland explained how special a term that was to him.
“Excuse me. I have to sneeze,” I lied as I pulled away. I brought my fingers up and squeezed my nose, holding for a few seconds, pretending to ward off the impending nasal explosion that didn’t come.
He shifted away. “I should let you get back to work.” He gathered his sandwich and beer. “I’m going into the office. Call if you need anything.”
I didn’t want him to leave. “Can’t you work from here?”
His expression shifted. “The materials I need are at work.”
I couldn’t decide if he looked happy or surprised that I’d asked if he could stay. “What are you working on?” Wasn’t that what a real girlfriend would ask? She’d be interested in his work, in how he spent his time. “Is it anything I can help with?” That sounded desperate. How was I, the recent MBA graduate, going to help the successful business titan they’d named the Shark of Wall Street?
“I’ve been doing this a long time. I think I’ve got a handle on it. Today I’ve got to go over issues with an acquisition to help out the guy who’s taken my place.”
I nodded and looked at my lap. At least it was a gentle put down. “The Martin guy you mentioned?”
“Yes. Tomorrow I’m going to go over that list of local charities you gave me, and maybe you can give me more detail than I’ll find researching online.”
“I’d be happy to. And thanks for lunch,” I said, saluting him with my partial sandwich.
He reached for the door handle. “I’d like to stop by your office sometime and take you to lunch.”
I shook my head immediately “I’m not ready for that yet. I’ll let you know.”
