“So she is coming on a bit strong, right?” He shook his head, then glanced behind him as if making sure she hadn’t followed or something. “I thought it was just me being paranoid.”
I bit out a laugh. “Not at all. I couldn’t laugh that sexy over and over if I tried. And, really, if you were that funny you’d be doing stand-up.”
“That hurts.” He bopped his fist over his heart, then his voice became deadly serious. “But, she is a problem. I haven’t been able to talk to you because of her.”
He had to be joking. I mean what single, attractive guy, gets annoyed by a beautiful woman showing interest? Like he’d really prefer conversation with me. Not someone who plays the field as much as Chris does. “Why is it a problem? I mean, she’s pretty, and you are . . . um, single.”
Glad I corrected myself. I’d been about to say hot. So insanely hot.
He gave me a strange look, then we stepped aside as a man in a business suit approached, heading for the men’s room. “I have a rule about dating people from work.”
“Why?” Maybe that’s the reason he’d made it clear that tonight was a friend-thing. Not because he didn’t find me dateable, but because he had standards about going out with co-workers.
He gave me a side-glance. “I can’t say.”
“Oh, come on.” I raised my eyebrows. No way he could leave it at that. “Truth or Dare, Chris?”
The corners of his mouth came up. “And what happens in Truth or Dare stays there, right?”
“Exactly.” I bit my lip and kicked my heel against the floor, dying to know what he was keeping from me. “Rule number three.”
“Okay, Truth.” He ran his hands through his hair, took a breath, then his eyes found mine. “There was this girl. From work. She kind of broke my heart.”
My pulse sped up. Broke his heart? That had to mean he’d fallen for her, which didn’t make sense. Or maybe it did. Maybe that’s why he only dated casually. “What happened?”
He shrugged, in a what-can-you-do? way. “She was in love with another guy.”
“Oh, gosh.” Wow. That had to hurt. I couldn’t help wondering if she had been a girl from our office or if it had happened at the place he’d worked before. Poor guy. “I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. Actually . . .” He stroked his chin as if he’d just thought of something. “Maybe you can help. You did want to make up for being late tonight, right?”
“Of course,” I said, still unable to believe he hadn’t freaked over that. “What can I do?”
Pointing back and forth between the two of us, he said, “If Tina thinks that you and I are together, she’d probably back off . . .”
The thought of not hearing that throaty laugh one more time caused a smile to spread across my face and I held my fist out for a bump. “Game on.”
“Thanks, Gina.” Returning my grin, he bounced his fist off mine. “I think we’ll make a great team. I’ll meet you at the table.”
My tummy fluttered at his team comment. Probably just my body’s reaction to being glad I could do him this favor. That’s all. Starting a new job, he really didn’t need distractions with romance at the office. Or potentially getting his heart crushed when it didn’t work out, yet having to see her every day still.
And it wasn’t lost on me that Chris and I wouldn’t be working together anymore. His rule would no longer apply.
CHAPTER FIVE
When I got back to my seat, Tina was animatedly engaged in a conversation with the woman next to her and neither seemed to notice my return. Cynthia smiled up at me, then gave her attention back to her husband and the story he was telling.
Having a minute to myself, I folded my hands and studied the room. Even though I’d felt awkward about my outfit, I was relieved to see other women wearing business clothes as well. Tina, of course, wore a very attractive black cocktail dress that accented her slim figure. Whatever. So my pants suit fit a bit more snug than when I bought it. It’s not like the button at the waist was popping. Much.
The waiter set our plates down at the same time Chris returned to his chair.
Tina immediately twisted in her seat. “Chris, a handful of us are going for drinks tomorrow night at this great Irish pub. We’d love it if you joined us.”
Was it my imagination or had she said you in very singular way?
He cleared his throat. “Thanks for the invitation, but—”
“We’d love to.” I put my arm around Chris, my fingernails grazing the back of his neck and I swear he shivered. “Sweetie, I’d love to spend time with the people you’ll be working with.”
Ms. H.R. seemed surprised at my response as if she’d concluded (rightfully) that Chris and I were just friends. Ha.
He twisted toward me, his lips twitching ever so slightly. “If you’re up for it, then absolutely.”
“Thanks.” Electric sparks darted through my fingertips each time our skin touched as I played with the back of his hair—which was heavenly soft. Thinking I was on a roll, I laughed my throatiest laugh but ended up coughing. Not my finest moment. Yeah, this would be a good time to dig into the salad our waiter had set down.
Chris exchanged a few more words with Ms. H.R., who I’m happy to say neglected to flirt this time, then he turned to me with his eyes were dancing. “You’re the best.”
“I know.” I smiled back, glad I hadn’t bowed out after all. Especially when Chris slipped some chocolate covered raisins onto my dessert plate. Yum.
The rest of the evening went smoothly. Everyone welcomed Chris and seemed genuinely happy that he’d be working with them. And the boss’s wife, Cynthia, adored me. She even invited us to go sailing with them this weekend, but I regretfully declined because of Ellen’s wedding.
When Chris walked me to my door and gave me a hug that sent shivers to parts of me I didn’t know existed, I had to resist inviting him in for, um, coffee. Remembering my vow to only date men who wanted commitment, I pulled away first and stepped back. He told me he’d pick me up at eight tomorrow night for drinks and I reassured him I’d be ready this time.
I closed the door, hurried to the wooden blinds, and peeked through the slats to watch him drive away. What started as a disaster had turned into a fun night. I dropped onto the couch and fantasized about tomorrow night when I’d play couple with Chris in front of Ms. H.R. again.
That’s when the bomb dropped in my stomach.
Ethan. Dinner. Tomorrow night.
How could I have forgotten? I couldn’t cancel on Chris now though. Ms. H.R. would sink her claws into him for sure. What to do? One thing for sure, this called for ice cream.
****
After an hour watching reality TV, I still had no clue how to resolve my double-booking problem for tomorrow night so I inserted a spoonful of cookie dough ice cream into my mouth hoping a solution would come to me. Instead, my cell phone let out a: Chirp! Chirp!
My heart skipped a beat when I saw a text from Chris: You still up? Just wanted to thank you again for tonight. You’re an awesome girlfriend.
I bit my lip, hating how the word girlfriend thrilled me when I knew it was only in fun: Happy to save you from beautiful H.R. reps whose laughter should be rated X.
Not ten seconds later I received: Not half as gorgeous as you, honey.
Warmth spread across my belly but, remembering my lack of make-up, there’s no way he meant it so I sent back: As my boyfriend, you’re obligated to say that but thx anyway. Tomorrow I’ll be sure to wear something dressier so you don’t dump me for Ms. H.R..
When he didn’t respond right away, I panicked. Had I gone too far with our joking? As the seconds ticked by with no response, I longed to retract my sent text, and tried to distract myself by staring at the TV as the bachelorette debated which guy to choose for her solo date.
I jumped when Kristen’s bedroom door suddenly squeaked open and she trudged out wearing flannel pajamas. Since it was after ten o’clock and I hadn’t heard a peep from her, I’d assumed she’d hit the sack already. She grabbed a bottle of flavored-mineral water from the fridge and then plopped down next to me on the couch. “Who are we rooting for?”
A special cell device to retrieve mortifying sent texts.
“The pilot with the big blue eyes.” I checked my cell, which still hadn’t beeped, to make sure I hadn’t accidentally turned it off or something. My ‘Numbers Add Up’ screen saver stared back at me, showing me my phone was still on and functioning. Ugh. “He’s hot, cooks, and gave her a foot rub earlier.”
“Not bad.” She raised a brow, then tore her eyes from the screen. “When did you get home from your date?”
“An hour ago and you know it was a friend thing.” I groaned when the bachelorette picked the musician instead of the very adorable pilot. “He’s clearly only on the show to promote his new indie album. Can’t she see that?”
After a sip of her bubbly calorie-free drink, she screwed the blue top back on the bottle. “Women typically pick the wrong guy thinking he’ll change for her.”
“Well, not me.” Since the show had gone to commercial, I turned all my attention to Kristen. “No way. No how.”