“Did you get the flowers?”
Heat shot through her body. She closed her eyes. How did he do that? One simple question from Leo, and her entire body quivered with desire.
“I did. Thank you. They’re beautiful.”
“And you read the card?”
“Mmmhmm.” She still held the heavy square with his initials across the top between her fingertips. What could she say to Leo that was honest, but didn’t make everything uncomfortable and strange? Before she could overthink it, she blurted out the truth. “Listen, Leo, I…I can’t go to dinner with you because I’m not interested in a convenient arrangement. I…I just can’t do that with you.”
“I’m not either.”
Leo’s voice was deep and thick. Gwen blinked, certain she’d misheard what Leo said.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m not interested in that type of arrangement with you, but I am interested in taking you to dinner.”
Her stomach flipped. “To dinner as in a…” She couldn’t say the word, she hardly wanted to even think the word. My God, what kind of mess would they be stepping into if they actually went out together? “As in a date?”
“Yes, a date. The two of us. Dinner. Will you go?”
Her heart rattled her ribs, and fuzzy white noise filled her brain… Leo had asked her on a date. Was he breaking his rules or just bending them? What exactly did this invitation mean? The man she’d crushed hard on for the last six months was asking her to dinner. She wanted to scream “yes!” and do a victory dance around her apartment and yet…they faced the same challenges as when she’d told him she couldn’t be party to a “convenient arrangement.” If they went on a date and people found out—and they would find out, Leo got photographed like he was Prince Harry at a whorehouse—they’d still have to deal with all the questions from family and friends.
“I can actually hear your brain spinning.” The smile in Leo’s voice calmed her. “You’re working out every single worst-case scenario in your mind. I understand, I get it, but Gwen, this is dinner between two adults who like each other. I promise I can act like an adult. I know you may not believe me, but I can, and I’m pretty sure you can too.”
She smiled. Dinner with Leo Travati? Alone? On a date? This was a dream come true, how could she possibly say no? She couldn’t, could she? Her good sense demanded she say no, but the rest of her, every part of her, wanted to say yes.
“I’d love to.” Gwen’s heart jolted against her ribs. Such a bad girl walking on the wild side. “But can we try to keep this quiet? Just between us?”
“I won’t tell a soul,” Leo said. “Not sure about the millions who read The Daily News, but I promise not to breathe a word.”
“That’s fair.” Gwen smiled. “We can always say we’re working on the launch.”
“Miss Fleming, I never knew you to be a liar.”
She flushed. Was he alluding to their conversation on New Year’s Day? “Maybe occasionally,” she said, swallowing hard. “When necessary.”
“I see.” He paused. “I’m sorry for making that necessary.”
She pressed her lips together. He knew, Leo absolutely knew that she’d been faking being nonchalant and devil-may-care. Why deny it?
“Does Friday night work? Seven?” he asked.
“Perfect,” Gwen said.
“I’ll pick you up then.”
She pushed “off” on her phone and put one trembling hand to her forehead. The sweet scent of magnolias and peonies infused her apartment. What the heck? She had a date with Leo. A real date. Not a one-night stand, or a convenient arrangement, but a real date where he’d sent her flowers, called her up, and asked her out…my goodness, how was this even possible? She’d slept with him, told him to kiss off, and now he was asking her out? It all seemed backwards and upside down…and she wasn’t sure…did she have anything to wear?
Gwen glanced at her phone. She didn’t have the luxury of time to worry. She had a meeting with a potential client in an hour and she still needed to shower and dress. Her hand slid over Mr. Mouse’s soft arched back. The beauty of the flowers stunned her. How would she keep her mind on anything but her upcoming dinner date with Leo? Hmm, she had no choice. She’d just have to try.
*
The racquetball court stank of sweat and stale towels and absolutely nothing feminine. For that lack of the feminine, Leo was oddly thankful. Everything Travati was being taken over by a g*aggle of girls, Leo groused, but here he was getting ready for a date on Friday night that had him wound up like a Yankees fan in Boston.