Now, Please(17)
“Do you own anything but dress shirts?” I asked, glancing out at the restaurant. Patrons filled most of the space, many also wearing dress shirts, a few in ties, and only a couple completely dressed down in T-shirts and jeans. Those few stuck out a little—possibly not here for the convention and wondering why the place was inundated with businessman.
Hunter looked down at his chest. A crease worked between his eyebrows. “I rarely have need for anything but dress shirts.”
“And now that you do, what are you? Too dressed up, that’s what.”
Hunter glanced at my red dress and sparkling jewelry. His mouth tweaked, hinting at a smile. “I match my company.”
Not even remotely. I saw the waitress approaching. Still, she only had eyes for Hunter. And once again, he didn’t even notice that she practically had to wipe drool off her chin while he was ordering. The whole situation was becoming comical.
“Just wait. If we ever get a male waiter, I’m going to dazzle him to the point of distraction. I might even bat my eyelashes. Then you’ll see how annoying it is to be completely irrelevant.” I smiled as the wine came, waiting while Hunter tasted the wine and gave his approval.
“You are not completely irrelevant, Olivia, and yes, that would be annoying.”
We sipped our wine in silence until I asked, “What’s in store for tomorrow?”
“You have the afternoon free again. Do you want to get up with me for breakfast, or order it in your room?”
My eyebrows rose as an excited smile drifted up my face. “I’ve never had room service! I think I’ll do that.”
“You’ll find that the food isn’t as fresh and hot as you might like,” Hunter said in distaste.
“Don’t care. It’s the idea of the thing.”
“Here we are.” The waitress appeared with a tray and a stand. She set one on the other before serving our meals. The delicious aroma of seared meat made my mouth water. I picked up my knife and fork while Hunter received his plate and wasted no time taking a bite.
“Hunter.”
Hearing the voice, we glanced up as Bruce strolled up still wearing the jeans and shirt I had seen him in earlier. He had a book in his hand. “I won’t disturb your meal—”
Hunter wiped his mouth and half stood. “Join us.”
“No, no. I’ve just finished. I wanted to say I’ll be in the bar, if you and Livy want to stop by for a drink.”
“Of course.” Hunter remained standing. “Which bar?”
“There’s more than one?” Bruce’s mouth turned down in a funny-looking frown, but his eyes glittered. He looked at me. “I think they assume businessmen are alcoholics.”
“They might be right,” I said.
His booming laugh drew eyes around us. He didn’t seem to notice as he refocused on Hunter. “The one just off the lobby. That’s the only one I knew about.”
“There is another, less trafficked bar toward the back of the building. It’s quieter, and it’s closer to our transportation. If you don’t mind, I’d rather not make Livy walk more than she has to. She’s trying to break in new shoes, and the effect on her heels is never pretty.”
“Of course!” Bruce looked at me in seriousness before glancing under the table. “Oh yeah, those’ll wear a hole in your feet for sure! My wife does nothing but complain when she wears a new pair of heels. Why you women put yourselves through it, I’ll never know.”
“I never used to, but sneakers don’t look great with a dress,” I said in a light tone.
“Well, that’s just an opinion.” Bruce leaned down and rubbed my shoulder in jest. “Okay, sure, I’ll meet you there. Great catching you—I’m interested in hearing more of your ideas.”
“Ask him for a flow chart—he probably has one.” I laughed.
“Right, right.” Bruce gave a thumbs-up. “Now sit, sit. Enjoy your dinner. The steak is pretty good.” He turned, then flinched as a bustling waitress nearly mowed him down. He apologized and continued on.
“Clever, using me as a scapegoat to get more intimate with him,” I said as Hunter retook his seat.
“Intimate doesn’t matter—my father will be there, no matter where there is.” Hunter’s eyes hit mine in complete seriousness. “Less walking would be more comfortable for you. I knew Bruce would understand.”
I looked down at my food, touched by his concern. To cover the moment, in case he tried to absolve his guilt with another warning about breaking my heart, I said, “Is your father as good at business as you are? You know, the planning and long-term goals and all that?”