Page 60 of Bossy Hero

I crane my neck to see who he’s calling to. My eyes land on a tall, lean man barreling toward us.

Janice taps her nails on the table in front of me, leans close, and winks conspiratorially. “You’re welcome.”

“What do you mean?” I whisper.

She waggles her brows. “That’s Rick’s friend. For you. A little goodbye gift.”

My heart launches itself into my throat, cutting off my airway.

Rick waves the man over and directs him to my side of the booth.

No, no, no.

Reaching beside me, I swipe my purse and scoot to the edge of the booth in a frenzy to leave. Unfortunately, I don’t get there soon enough.

The man lowers himself three-quarters of the way toward the booth before he notices me so close to the edge. “Oh, hi.”

“Hello,” I answer automatically, my voice flat and emotionless.

“Scoot over. I’m coming in,” he announces, lowering the rest of the way to the seat and leaving me no choice but to move toward the wall.

I plaster on a smile and work to keep my breathing in check. Although his cologne is pleasant, it nauseates me. Or maybe it’s the wine on an empty stomach. Or the fear of being trapped in the booth.

If Janice is trying to set me up, does this man think I’m a willing participant? Does he think this is a date? No, no. I can’t. I’m not ready.

I donotwant this.

What if he tries to touch me? Hold my hand? Kiss me? Insist I go home with him?

I shimmy my body closer to the wall and keep my purse in my lap. As if that could protect me.

Conversation flows around me, and I pick up bits and pieces here and there. I might even laugh a time or two. Can’t be sure. It’s all a haze.

The server brings me another glass of wine, and I grip it with sweaty palms.

“Tell me about yourself, Madeline.” Isaac points at my traitorous coworker with the top of his beer bottle. “Janice says you’re an underwriter.”

Trembling, I respond, “Yes. I am.”

He nods slowly, his forehead wrinkling as he takes me in and waits for me to expand. Too bad for him; that’s all he’s getting out of me. I can hardly breathe, let alone speak.

When I don’t add any details, he shares his life story. He’s a project manager for an IT firm, and he’s known Janice’s boyfriend for a little over two years. Blah, blah, blah.

I nod along as he talks, barely following his train of thought. He seems nice enough. Handsome. It’s not his fault I’m crawling out of my skin.

“Shall we?” he asks out of nowhere, his eyes warm and voice tender.

My gaze sweeps around the table. Rick and Janice appear to be waiting for me to respond as well.

Janice smiles warmly at me. “You like Italian, right?”

“Italian?” I parrot, my voice cracking.

“Positanos can get us in now. Rick just called. They’re holding a table for us.”

I glance at Rick, and he shakes his cell phone.

Oh. I see.

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