Page 30 of Between the Lines

“You’re impossible. Do you conduct other business meetings like this?”

“No. Why don’t you sit in on a few, for your notes?”

Her mouth parts. “Really? You’d be okay with that?”

“Sure. Your NDAs prohibit you from reporting on anything business sensitive, and the Board will have final approval.” Ihold out a hand. “You’re not going to finish your taco. You didn’t like it.”

Her eyes flash down to her food, and then back to me. “What makes you think that?”

“You frowned after your first bite.”

“It’s got too many chili peppers,” she admits, her voice a bit sheepish. “I forgot to tell him not to add them, and then it was too late.”

“You could have asked for another one.” My hand is still extended. “Come on, give it to me and I’ll buy you another one.”

“You definitely don’t need to do that. You have to head back inside, you have another meeting?—”

“I can be late.”

“Eric said that you’re never late.” She makes her voice deeper, an imitation. “‘Mr. Hartman values punctuality above all else.’”

I chuckle. “Mr. Hartman also takes the lunches of his employees very seriously.”

“I’m not your employee.”

“Hired freelancer, then. Now here, hand it over.”

“I don’t remember you being this bossy.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Don’t you?”

She blinks rapidly a few times and then puts the taco in my hand. “Fine. Here. And I do have a question… Do I need to contact Eric every time I want to ask you something?” she asks. “I might have questions throughout this process.”

“You want my number?” I ask. The question comes out dry, and just a bit bitter. Damn it.

Charlotte’s eyes widen and then a fierce color races up her cheeks. She looks down. Is she embarrassed about giving me a fake number?

I clear my throat a bit harshly. “You don’t have to contact Eric every time. Here.” I dig into my pocket. Find my walletand one of my business cards there. It doesn’t have my phone number on it.

But it does have my direct email address.

I hand it to her. “Make sure you writeCharlottein the subject line.”

She looks down at the smooth paper, gripped between her fingers. Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned the phone number thing. Women blow men off all the time. She must have had her reasons. The desire to ask her about it, to invite more pain in, is on the tip of my tongue.

I bite down on it. We shook on remaining professional.

And as intriguing as she is, I still don’t have time for a relationship. That was the whole reason my last one ended.

She runs a finger over the logo at the top. “CEO of Titan Media,” she murmurs.

There’s something in her voice that I can’t place. She doesn’t sound happy. Like this simple fact is somehow a problem. I open my mouth to ask her something—anything—when my phone rings. Eric.Time’s up.

But despite it all, I wish it wasn’t.

CHAPTER 12

CHARLOTTE

---