Page 6 of The Arrogant One
“I’d show you … but we’re not ready for that. This is just drinks. You get nothing from me until at least after the appetizer.”
She licked her lips. “What makes you think I even want anything from you?”
“You’re thinking about it … I can tell.”
She laughed. “I’d tell you you’re full of yourself, but I think you already know that too.”
“There’re two types of confidence. Believing in yourself and believing what’s about to happen.”
“You’ve got the first one nailed.” She took a drink.
I smiled. “I’ve got both nailed.”
“Of course.” She rolled her eyes with a grin. “What was I even thinking?”
The bartender stopped in front of us. “Can I get you a refill?”
“Please,” I replied.
“And you?” he asked Sadie.
“I’m going to nurse this one for a bit longer. Thank you.”
As she was tucking some of that wild hair behind her ear, I asked, “So, you never answered me. Are you here for a business meeting? Is that what brings you in? Since I now know it wasn’t a first date—or even a date for that matter.” I tried, but my fucking smile wouldn’t leave my face.
That was what she was doing to me.
Making me dream about later tonight.
Making me into a grinning fool.
Damn it, this gorgeous woman had powers.
“Business-ish.” She shrugged. “And no date. Lately, I’ve only been meeting Mr. Wrong.”
“It’s a good thing I’m Mr. Right.”
She gave me a nip of her lip before she grinned. “Well then, I guess it is a really good thing that I met you, Mr. Lockhart Wright.”
I had to laugh for just a second as I let my eyes wander, appreciating every second I could take in this view because it sounded like my joke had gone right over her head.
“Tell me more about you. What do you do?”
“I work in social media. How about you?”
“Hospitality.”
“That’s a broad answer.”
I winked at her. “So is social media.”
“Okay, you got me there. I just hate talking about it. It’s a job that monopolizes far too much of my life. When I’m not actively working, I’m usually thinking about work. But sitting here with you, I haven’t thought about it once. It’s been a nice reprieve.”
I shook my head, moaning, “I couldn’t have said it better.” I finished my drink and pushed the empty away. “You know what I like? You were in the area for business-ish. You could have pulled up to a drive-through or gone home—wherever that is—and had something delivered. But you came to Horned, a high-end restaurant. You’d even made a reservation.”
Should I be pissed that she hadn’t made a reservation at Charred, which was three blocks from here? I wasn’t going to let that haunt me right now.
“That tells me you don’t fuck around when it comes to food. I love that.”
