Nodding, I went to make note of what he was saying. “What would you like me to order for you, erm, Jeremy?”
“Nothing.”
“You said you’d like to eat after the meeting with Hoates.”
He inclined his head. “I did. I’ll have Thomas call for reservations for us.”
I glanced sideways at him. From the way the last three meetings with Hoates had gone I’d assumed Jeremy didn’t care much for the man. Guess I’d been wrong.
“You’re dressed perfect for the restaurant,” he said.
“Wait? Me? I’m going with you?”
He sat on the edge of my desk, his great smell getting all over me, making me temporarily stupid. “Yes, you, unless you have other plans.”
“Only girls’ night, where we complain about the male race being scum-sucking maggots with their heads lodged firmly up their backsides,” I blurted. I wanted the words back. “I mean, no, nothing, and my friends and I really just sit around reading classic literature and discussing really meaningful things.”
“Uh-huh.” He touched my hand. “They talk around here, you know? They tell me things. Things you seem to want to hide from me.”
He caressed my inner wrist and I had no chance of a clear thought. “I don’t think I’m very interesting to gossip about.”
He continued touching me. “They talk about your sense of humor. They tell me you’re funny in addition to being beautiful. That part I already knew.”
Words failed me for what seemed like an eternity. “I have my moments, and thank you.” My cheeks felt warm and I was keenly aware I was blushing.
The intercom buzzed, breaking the moment. Jeremy pressed the button. “Yes.”
“Hoates is headed up,” the receptionist from the lobby said.
Jeremy stood but stayed near me. He cleared his throat. “Ansiley, if I make you uncomfortable, tell me.”
“No,” I said quickly. “You don’t. I just, well, I’m not sure how to be around someone like you.”
He lifted a black brow. “Someone like me?”
“Someone who has enough money to buy several of his own islands, okay, probably a country if he wanted.”
Chapter Two
Hoates entered, saving me from making an even bigger fool of myself. His narrow gaze fixed on me—again. He was always leering. He didn’t stare. He leered. I knew from the brief bio I’d read on him in the company computer that he was rich. He was the same age as Jeremy and they ran in similar social circles. Looking at him, he appeared far older than thirty-three. Jeremy’s full head of ink black hair was cut close on the sides and slightly longer on top. Hoates’s widow’s peak had become even more pronounced in the eight months I’d known him. He lacked Jeremy’s naturally sun-kissed skin, instead always appearing pale. Then there was the fact he was close to my height—five seven, and Jeremy towered over him.
Yes, it was grossly unfair to compare another man to Jeremy because he was ridiculously good looking. Hard to avoid doing since they were shaking hands, standing face-to-face. Hunk to…
I shuddered as thinking of what to refer to Hoates as.
Jeremy headed toward his office and hesitated. Hoates slowed near my desk. He leered some more and I suddenly felt like buttoning my blouse all the way up. It wasn’t like I was flashing cleavage or anything. I had a cami on under my blouse, but Hoates’s gaze made me feel dirty.
Clearing his throat, Jeremy gained Hoates’s attention. “I have dinner plans and am pressed for time.”
“Of course,” said Hoates, following him into the office. They left the door open and started in on what I expected would be yet another three hours of getting nowhere.
I grabbed my cell phone and pressed the contact button marked Janie. She answered on the second ring. “Hot, young, horny and desperately sick of working on this ad project speaking. How can I help you?”
“Goofball,” I said softly. I didn’t like making personal calls at work.
“Yes, I am. What’s up?” my best friend Janie asked.
“I have to bail on girls’ night tonight.”
“Lisa, get off Ansiley’s phone and give her back. She’s nothing if not on time and never one to cancel plans,” she joked.
I smiled. “I have a dinner, uh, date?”
“Was that formed as a question?”
With a snort, I turned partially in my chair. “Jeremy asked me to dinner.”
“Mr. Hotsauce Boss? Mr. Wish You Had Him Spread Out Wearing Nothing But a Layer of Whipped Cream?”
I blushed, sorry I’d shared that particular fantasy with her. “Yes. Him.”