Submission Specialist(Still a Bad Boy #2)(66)

Lorenzo took it all in stride. “That’ll do the trick.”

I pressed the button to speak to my driver over the intercom. “Drop Mr. Marchetti off at his car, then we’re heading back out.”

“Yes, sir.”





Chapter 5

Kendall

After a brief hurricane of panic from everybody back in the office, I spent the entire afternoon on a computer researching Jace Barlow, determined to make part two of my interview infinitely less embarrassing than part one. I’d known he was secretive, but I didn’t realize just how little of his life had made it on to the internet.

Mr. Kinsley sent me some lines of questioning the brain-trust back in the office thought would be important to go through, but not until after trying to replace me at the dinner with a more experienced reporter. Barlow’s people shot that idea down.

This was my big chance, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity to show them what I could do. Everybody at The Weekly Enquirer, my family, everybody back home who thought I would live and die in Woodville, I’d show them all.

I couldn’t afford the kinds of things that most people who dined at Luc Monette’s wore, but I dressed up as well as I was able to. Even so, when I arrived early, the woman behind the counter looked down her nose at me until I said I was here to meet Jace Barlow.

After that, I was royalty as far as she was concerned. She even brought me a complimentary glass of wine while I waited.

It wasn’t easy to keep a level head. This was as exclusive a restaurant as existed anywhere in the city, the whole country even. Everywhere I looked, I saw faces I recognized from the news, from the magazines, even from the paper I worked for.

The instant he walked in the room, he caught my eye. He had so much presence it was like the universe revolved around him, the complete opposite to me.

It didn’t take him long to spot me either, as if I drew his eyes as much as he drew mine. He headed straight for me and I had this image of him picking me up and carrying me off into the sunset.

There I went again. What was it about him that made me forget who I was?

“Mr. Barlow.” I began to stand.

He held out his hand, halting me, before he sat down on the opposite side of the table. “Please. Just call me Jace for tonight.”

“Oh. OK. You can call me Kendall too.”

“A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

I glanced down at my glass of wine for a second, fighting off the shy blush that seemed to blossom anyway whenever he looked at me. Lines like that didn’t help my predicament.

Eventually, I managed to raise my eyes to his with a goofy smile on my face. “Thank you.”

“Have you ordered?” he asked.

“No, I was waiting for you.”

“Well, now you’ve got me, what are you going to do with me?”

It was an innocent question, but the way he said it and the look on his face gave me the impression that he was implying something. I didn’t know if it was just my imagination running wild again, not out of the question when I was around him, or if I was getting hit on by a multi-millionaire.

*****

“But enough about me. What about you? Do you have a boyfriend?”

The whole dinner was like that. A question from me, a dodge by him, followed by thinly-veiled innuendo. I got the impression that the veil was only put there as part of some game he was playing with himself. With me.

No, there wasn’t any doubt about it. Jace Barlow was flirting with me. Me!

“Me? No. Nobody…”

… ever noticed me.

“… I just don’t really have t-time for that,” I lied.

“I know the feeling.”

Jace leaned forward across the table as if he was going to tell me a secret, fixing me with those eyes of his with the game of cat and mouse playing out behind them. I couldn’t help but lean forward, drawn to him like he had me on a string, and I caught a hint of his cologne over the aroma of expensive food.

“There’s one thing people like us have time for. Don’t you think, Kendall?”

Leaning forward as I was, he took a slow and purposeful look down my top and I was caught off guard by a jolt of excitement between my legs. I’d never felt anything quite like that before without even laying a finger on myself, and I gasped quietly at the sensation as his gaze returned to my eyes, holding me there almost like I was spellbound.

No man had ever seen me naked. The very thought of it had always made me want to run and hide, but I found myself having to mentally argue with my own hands to stop them from unbuttoning my top right here at the table. After all this lonely time, I was soaking up this attention like a sponge, and I wanted more.

I also didn’t want to let this opportunity, this scoop, slip through my fingers. Struggling to regain control of myself, I thought back to my research this afternoon, the things I read between looking at pictures of him on a beach, with his top off and that chiseled body on display.