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Her posture is full of tension and anger, but I see other emotions in her eyes—the very same conflict I’m struggling with.
“I just have one question. And then I’ll get a car right now if you want. You don’t even have to stay for a drink.”
“Get a car? Are you telling me you don’t have one?”
I shake my head. “No. Henry dropped me off at the plant this morning and went back to the city.”
Her mouth drops open. “How will you get back tomorrow?”
Of all the things for her to focus on. “He’ll come back and pick me up.”
“Why didn’t he just stay? It’s at least a four-hour drive.”
“He hates hotels. Too germy for him. Which makes it damn inconvenient at times. But he’s driven our family my entire life.”
I refuse to notice the fact that her dress dips even lower now that I have a front-row seat.
“So you hired him because he’s been in your family?”
“Yes,” I admit. “Which is ridiculous, to be honest. He still talks to my dad, and I’m pretty sure he passes along intel about me and my whereabouts. And you already know about his hotel quirk, which renders him useless on trips if we go far enough that he can’t make it out and back overnight.”
“So your dad has a hand in your decisions too?”
It’s an offhanded comment, and she didn’t ask for this information. But it’s important, especially given what I’m about to ask.
“More than you know. He loaned Enzo and I start-up money with the stipulation if we weren’t bringing in income within eighteen months, he would become part owner rather than simply an investor. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t expect us to get it right without his guidance.”
Her eyes widen as the reason behind my unholy rush for approval comes to light. If only she could understand the full impact of co-owning a business with my father. But I have another revelation to focus on now as our drinks arrive.
“Will it just be the two of you?” the waitress asks. “Do you mind if I pull the other table apart?”
“Yes, just us,” Ada says, handing over her credit card. “And no, not at all. Go ahead.”
She walks away.
“You didn’t have to pay for this.”
Being so close to her is killing me. I want to touch her, kiss her again. Feel her body under me.
“Better than you paying,” she says. “Can’t take bribes.”
I roll my eyes. That’s hardly an accurate portrayal of the situation, but I understand Ada’s need to cling to control. Still, it’s unnecessary. I would never in a million years use this against her.
“So you’re staying for the drink?”
“Depends,” she says, as cheeky as ever. “Do you really have a question for me?”
I hate myself for asking.
But Enzo encouraged me to be honest with myself, and I’ve realized something over the past several days. This isn’t just sexual tension. Ada seems to understand me on a soul-deep level, toseeme. And she’s the most intelligent, sexiest, most interesting woman I’ve ever met.
There’s no telling what might happen if we wait. She could easily meet someone else, and I don’t think I want to risk that. From what I understand, the post-review period can be unpredictable, and there’s no telling exactly how long it might be.
So yes, this is a really stupid question, but I’m going to ask it anyway.
“I can’t do this, Ada. I don’t want to pretend there’s nothing between us. I know there are risks. High risks.”
Her lips part, and I know I’ve managed to totally surprise her. And myself.
