Page 38 of One Wrong Move

His lips twitch. “Right.”

“Sorry. B-list?”

He lifts his hands, palms out as if in surrender. “Hey, don’t let me interrupt. Go on.”

“Right. So, beauty is important.” But then I frown, because I realize I don’t know much more than that. Dean had spoken occasionally about Nate’s dating life, shared stories from their fifteen-year friendship before I entered the picture. His failed engagement, and the real estate heiress he was briefly connected to.

“So far I seem somewhat superficial,” he comments.

“Yes, well, I’m thinking. I guess you’d want someone who has a flexible schedule.”

Nate’s eyes widen. “Wasn’t expecting that one. Okay.”

“Yeah, that way she could join you when you travel or move countries. I also think you’d like a woman with her own career. Not too much of one, of course,” I say with a smile, “so it wouldn’t take her away from you. Just the right amount of non-threatening ambition.”

His eyes darken, but the crooked smile is still in place. Even if it looks a bit frozen. “I see,” is the only thing he says.

I shrug. “Just what I’ve observed about men like… well, like you. I think you also want a woman who is great at socializing and knows what to say and who to invite. You know, who can go with you to the gallery events and things like that.”

“Mm-hmm,” he says. “Her personality sounds nonexistent.”

That makes me laugh. “Okay, but see, that’s where I need your answers! I just gave you the basics, the essentials. Now tell me what you like.”

“Right. Well, aside from a woman needing to be beautiful, constantly available, unambitious, and good at making small talk… I suppose I like women who can surprise me.”

That makes me sit up straighter. “Who surprise you?”

“Yeah.” His lips curve, crookedly. “I like the unexpected.”

“Okay. That’s a good metric… even if it’s kinda hard to define.”

“It is, and that’s the point. I like them funny, too.”

I chuckle. “Of course, they’d have to laugh at your jokes.”

He shakes his head, but amusement glints in his eyes. “I don’t need an audience.”

“Right, right. Men always say that.” I wave my hand, brushing that away, still smiling. “I think you like your women clever, too.”

“Of course I do,” he says.

My appraisal of him rises. I’ve seen enough rich men who rate that particular quality about a woman low on their list of demands. Who consider it a nice bonus rather than a necessity.

He leans toward me, bracing his hands on the table between us. “I think your questions are far more telling than my answers.”

Something flips over in my stomach. “Are they?”

Nate just stares back at me. “Who’s your ideal man, Harper?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me? Return the favor?”

His lips twitch with dry amusement. “I’m willing to bet it’s someone who wants you for more than an arm candy to events.”

I take a sip of my wine and motion for him to carry on.

His smile flashes again. It looks more dangerous this time. “You asked for it, so you ready to hear what I really think? I think that the man your questions allude to me being is someone you never want to date. Again. You’re done. For good this time.”

Everything inside of me stills. Goes cold, and then boils hot. Heat races up to my cheeks. Did he just imply…?

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