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“Is it possible to still squeeze it in today, after your other meeting? I cleared my calendar for the afternoon.”
He says it like clearly his calendar is a major deal. I roll my eyes at the phone.
“I doubt I’ll be finished before five.”
“Five is perfect. I can be there then. Or we can make it a dinner meeting?”
My stomach flips at the suggestion. A dinner meeting.
If it were anyone else, I’d already have said yes. He’s right—it’s not a great idea for me to meet with Enzo if he’s not the one who’s going on the site visit. But rescheduling site visits are a huge pain, and despite what Hayden might think, I really don’t want to hold things up for Angel, Inc. Besides, it’s not like it would be inappropriate for us to arrange a business dinner.
The only thing that makes it inappropriate is the fact that I’ve thought about this particular guy nonstop for the past week.
I’d thought I was getting away with something when I found out I’d have to cancel this afternoon’s meeting, but this is so much worse.
“Doctor Flemming?”
I have nothing to do tonight but work. Not that I’m complaining. I love my job. And most days I don’t even consider it work, except for the government red tape that I could easily avoid by working for a private lab.
But there’s something exciting about helping to get lifesaving drugs to the market.
He’s not flirting with me now. And after obsessing about it an uncomfortable amount, I don’t think he was flirting last Saturday either. This is just a guy used to getting his way, and what he wants now is to have the Angel pill approved, on time.
“I understand I’m asking a lot, for you to work after hours, but I really don’t want to cancel the visit. Anything that might delay us further could be a real disaster moving forward.”
As he’s made perfectly clear already.
Ada, get a grip. This is a business meeting, not a freaking date. If you can’t say yes without worry about jumping this guy’s bones, then shame on you.
“I’d prefer not to reschedule the site visit too,” I admit. “Five should be fine, depending on the place.”
I’ll just go ahead and pretend my heart isn’t hammering out of my chest.
“You’re doing me a favor, so let’s make it easy on you. I’ll come to you. Just tell me where.”
I’m surprised. Hayden Tanner isn’t the kind of man I’d expect to be considerate.
“Michael’s on Lexington Ave? Inside Beacon Court?”
It’s just down the street, a go-to for our office dinner meetings. Plus, they have really good food.
“Done. Five o’clock?”
“Is six too late? Just in case the meeting runs over. Or I can get in touch closer to the end of the day.”
“Why don’t you text me later and let me know how it’s going?”
Dinner with Hayden Tanner. This is not at all how I expected today to go. Why do I have such a bad feeling about this?
“Sounds good. I’ll be in touch.”
“Looking forward to it.”
Click.
That jerk!
He’s one hundred percent professional and then, just as he’s about to hang up, he throws that in oh-so-casually. The words were totally fine—the kind of thing I might say to a colleague.
