Page 10 of Just a Distraction

His mouth quirks to one side. “I gotta show my commitment, huh?”

“Exactly. Oh, and what’s the pay difference?”

At his scowl, I put up a palm. “Not that it’s any of my business.” I allow my gaze to go up and down him, ever so briefly. It’s only for show. The fact that I like checking him out is beside the point. “But, honey, you have expensive tastes. So maybe the salary thing trumps the breakroom thing.”

“Now you’re changing your tune?” He smirks, and the way he’s now appraising me makes me shiver. “How am I ever going to decide?”

“Don’t blame me.” I feel my sauciness coming back. There’s just something about being in the night air with the guy I very recently engaged in some low-key trickery against my ex with that has me feeling reckless. “Ultimately, you need to do whatever your gut’s telling you.”

“What if my gut is saying that either way is going to burn me alive?” A flash of agony crosses his face before he recovers into that sweet smile again.

I swallow and shake my head. He really is in turmoil over this job thing. “Well, then you say thanks but no thanks to both companies and walk away.”

“If only it were that simple.”

“Hmm. Things rarely are that simple, young padawan.”

“Padawan?” He makes a face.

After tonight, I’ll never see him again. Let’s consider the fun I’m having with him my one reward for a really crappy birthday.“I feel something of an obligation to inform you of the intricacies of the corporate world.”

“Oh, I’m well aware of the intricacies of the corporate world.” His gaze is warm, his voice is quietly rough. Something about his vibe tells me he’s well aware of the intricacies ofa lotof things. And somehow, this very platonic conversation isn’t so platonic anymore. A tingle travels up my neck at his close gaze and gentle, knowing smile.

I push past him. I don’t know where I think I’m going, but I need some space.

“I’m going to let people down, whichever position I choose,” he says. “And I really don’t want to do that.”

I wheel back around, now that I’ve made a wide berth. “That is hard. I’m sorry.” I fold my arms and press them against my chest, which relieves some of the pressure I’ve been feeling. “What interests you more? Finance or hospitality?”

“Hospitality probably. But that position is less defined and there’s less opportunity for growth. It would be a lot more fun than the finance one, though. With the finance one, the pay is more, but the job is rigid, a more defined path with a lot less wiggle room. Higher expectations, for sure.”

“This is complex. I feel like I’m going to need a pros and cons list. Or a coin.”

“You think I should toss a coin?” His face is dubious.

“If it’s good enough for the NFL, it’s good enough for me. The power that a measly quarter holds? Crazy.”

“You like the NFL? What’s your team?”

I give him side-eye and bite at my lip. “I don’t think I know you well enough to tell you something so intimate.” Why does my mind race when I say the word “intimate”? I fail to add that we’ll also never see each other again after tonight, so why bother?

He might feel the weight of the word “intimate,” too because he stumbles over his next words. “I . . . I won’t hold your favoriteteam against you. I mean, I have mine, and anyone who can’t understand that is absolutely crazy, but hey, no big whoop.”

“You’re not a raging fan at all.” I widen my eyes in an exaggerated show.

A chuckle bursts out of him. “It seems we’re at an impasse. You’ve dodged every question about you, meaning we’ve made this whole conversation about me, which makes me feel horrible. My mother raised me better than that, Rose. And there’s a lot to say about this job. You ask a lot of questions.”

I grin. “It’s a defining trait.”

His eyes are hooded, his stare full of longing. “Oh, I think you have a lot of defining traits.”

My breath hitches—for only a moment.

I have to get the upper hand here. I can’t let this magnetic man suck me in. I bite the inside of my cheek to insert some sense into my brain.

It helps that some customers pass, requiring us to pause our conversation. I do a mental reset.

“So . . . about our impasse?” I say.

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