Page 9 of Kiss and Tell
“So that’s why you came to a client meeting dressed in jeans,” I shot back. “You don’t own any other clothes.”
“Is that your subtle way of saying you’d like to see me in a suit?” he said slyly.
“There’s something about a guy in a crisp white shirt and black tie that’s more appealing than grubby jeans,” I said just to needle him, even though his dark denim was anything but grubby.
“It’s that wealthy billionaire thing, isn’t it?” he asked. “That’s your type.”
I smoothed down my blouse, making sure it was still tucked into my skirt.
“Who says I have a type?” I asked.
“Everyone has a type.”
“So what’s yours?”
He cracked a grin. “Women.”
“Surely you’ve got more discernible tastes than that,” I replied.
“Well, I do like a nice pair of—”
I shot him a look of disbelief. My warning bells from before blared again.
“—Eyes,” he finished.
I raised an eyebrow. “Good save.”
His gaze traced a line from the top of my head to my kitten heel shoes, lingering in certain places more than others. Even as I bristled, my body warmed at that thorough, searching stare.
“I like the pencil skirt,” he said. “You’ve almost nailed that librarian look. All you need is a pair of glasses.”
“Sorry to disappoint, but I’ve got perfect vision.” I tugged on my blouse, straightening it. “Do you flirt with all your coworkers like that? No wonder you went through so many consultants.”
“That had nothing to do with my flirting,” he said.
“Then what was it?”
He flashed a grin.
“My wit and charm were just too damn intimidating,” he said.
“You could try and be a little more professional, like Jessie said,” I replied. “You hired me to work with you. I’m not just a girl you’re trying to pick up at a bar.”
Not anymore, anyway.
“And what a surprise that was,” Connor said. “I wouldn’t have thought you could pull off a look like this when I first met you.”
“I’m here on business,” I reminded him. “Unlike you, I’m not going to go to a client meeting in jeans and a t-shirt. Speaking of which…” I flicked my hand outward. “You want to explain this place? Is there a reason why it’s so secretive?”
What I really wanted to ask was,So exactly how many drug deals go down in here?
“This place runs on a word-of-mouth basis,” Connor explained. “You’ve got to know someone who knows about it to be invited in. This bar has got a few regular patrons who prefer privacy. We don’t need the public accidentally stumbling onto the place. If you needrealprivacy, there’s a door out back in the alleyway you can come through, but someone’s got to come open it for you. We need a way for our normal patrons to just walk right in, without anyone else being able to.”
“Right,” I said, although I still didn’t really understand.
“Let’s go to the office and talk details,” he said.
I kept my eyes trained on his broad back as he led me into the back. I didn’t want him to turn and find me gawking.
