Page 48 of The Flirt

"I want you to spend time with me."

"Oh." She licked her lower lip. She really had to stop doing that or I was going to kiss her regardless of where we were and who could find us.

"So I'm making our afternoon date a daily thing,” I declared.

"Bold of you to assume that."

"Oh, I like my chances," I said.

She was blushing again, and in her white chef's uniform, it was even more visible than Friday night, especially in broad daylight.

"And I'll supply the coffee as well."

"Now you're not just bold, you're downright demanding."

"Shamelessly demanding," I agreed, tilting closer to her.

“But afternoons are so stressful...”

“We’ll meet before lunch, then. Mornings.”

"Chad, remember last time we spent time together?"

"This is different," I said. "We'll be here at work. People will be watching."

"But why?" she whispered.

"I can't explain it," I admitted. "It just feels right. Like that's exactly what I should be doing every day before lunch.”

Her smile was so damn big as she stared at me.

Then she checked her watch. "Oh, goodness. I need to go back to the kitchen."

She hurried to the door and then turned around, looking at me.

"Chad."

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for the coffee date."

I nodded. This was a coffee, all right, but it sure as fuck wasn’t a date. I could do far better than this, but Scarlett was even more gun-shy than I was, and she had good reasons.

You both do, a voice in the back of my mind said, but I chose to ignore it.

I stayed on the rooftop for a few more minutes, enjoying the view and my coffee. My phone beeped, and I immediately checked it.

It was an email, though, not a message.

Subject: RSVP Luncheon Follow-up

Dear Mr. LeBlanc,

As you know, the yearly Jazz & Jambalaya Garden Luncheon is coming up on Saturday. We’d be thrilled to have you there—as a guest of honor, of course. Since it’s our twenty-fifth anniversary, it will be a more elaborate affair than usual. Please reply to this email if you’re interested.

The Garden Luncheon took place in a mansion in the Garden District. The Broussard part of the family started it twenty-five years ago, and the donations gathered from the guests went to a different cause every year. The entire family were honorary members, but we hadn't attended in years, and I was certain no one would be there this year either.

I almost deleted the email, then thought better of it. I knew one person who’d love this.

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