Page 23 of Power Games

"I've recently been informed that there hasn't been much research into antibiotics and resistance in the last 50 years, so if there is an outbreak of something, we're screwed."

His second text, sent just now, said, "All things considered, I think I'd welcome a zombie apocalypse."

She snorted at the randomness of it all and replied, "Admit it. Running away to Alaska was a pretty fucking bright idea."

He responded immediately. "Packing my bags. Meet you there."

If only.

She was starting to doze off when another text hit her inbox.

"I forgot to mention, I'm headed your way next week. You want to grab coffee?"

Her immediate answer was yes. No, hell yes, actually. Instead of typing, she stared at her phone, frowning.

This was a terrible idea. Charles was married, and staying married. What she needed right now was to friend-zone him. End up seeing him as just one of the guys, like Rob and every other male in her life. She wasn't supposed to get excited at the mention of coffee. Her heart was definitely not supposed to skip a beat at the thought of seeing him the following week. Until her stupid childish infatuation disappeared, she should just stay the hell away from him.

Yep. That was the way forward. She was going to tell him she was busy with something. Like, going to see her family, or hell, even really moving to Alaska. Coffee was not in the cards.

"Can't do coffee. I'm in addiction recovery." There. Perfect. Unfortunately, her fingers were still moving on her screen. "I know a great tea house though. Sending you the address, we can talk schedules later."

"Perfect. I'll see you then."

They met on Wednesday right after Vanessa was done with her work day. She took particular care to look like she hadn't taken particular care about what she looked like. She'd debated putting on jeans and a T-shirt to get her point across, but jeans and T-shirt wasn't her usual motto, so that would have looked strange. Instead, she was wearing a long rose skirt and a beige blouse with lace buttons. Okay, so it was cute. Maybe she also put on some lip gloss and mascara. To make up for it, she resisted the impulse to brush her hair, pulling it up in a messy bun instead. Vanessa accessorized with a pair of tortoiseshell Ray Ban Wayfarer sunglasses.

Her ride pulled up in front of the tea house, and the moment she walked out, a familiar voice asked, "Does that even work? The glasses thing. I refuse to believe that no one got that Clark Kent was Superman just because he was wearing shades."

She turned to smile at Charles, who'd also just arrived. He stepped forward and bent down to kiss her cheek. Damn. He was so fucking warm, smelled delicious, and made her entire body combust with the briefest touch.

Vanessa started to babble. "It totally works. Not for everyone, but I'm pretty nondescript, all things considered." She shrugged. She was pretty enough, but brunettes with even features were a dime a dozen. "As long as I don't catch someone's eye for an extended amount of time, I don't tend to get bothered when I'm out."

"Yeah, not buying it," he repeated. "I'd recognize you anywhere."

"That's because you know what I actually look like. Most people have only seen me on TV or in a magazine, with tons of make-up and a handy retoucher who edits out all my freckles."

She didn't have many freckles—only twenty-two, the last time she'd been bored enough to count them—but she'd never seen one in any of the pictures of her online. Not that she was complaining, really.

"Shame. I like your freckles." Charles pushed the door of the tea house open. "After you."

He liked her freckles. He liked her fucking freckles. Who even said that?

Perfect, sexy pieces of man-candy, that was who.

They took a seat in the small, cute tea shop. It had adorable teawear and delicious blends she couldn’t get her hands on elsewhere.

"So, what's good around here?" he asked, opening his menu up.

"Everything," she replied enthusiastically. "Not a tea person?"

His eyes scanned the menu up and down, then he closed it and put it aside.

"You've already picked?"

"Nope. I don't know a thing about tea, so I'll leave it to the expert."

She smiled to herself. Well, that was different.

"I'm missing something?" Charles prompted.

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