Page 59 of Her Christmas Wish
He’d rung the bell of her apartment, and when she’d pulled it open his back had been turned to her. She should have known then.
No. Rehashing stopped with closure. That was part of the deal.
With nine minutes more to wait, she heard her text sound, and grabbed her phone out of her clutch as though it was an oxygen mask to a suffocating person.
As tight and tense as her chest was feeling, she was finding it kind of hard to draw an easy breath.
I’m heading down now. Meet you outside.
He wasn’t coming to the door to get her.
Like any other rideshare, he was merely going to wait out front.
Drawing strength from the reminder, Sage slid the long, thin strap attached to her clutch over her shoulder and locked up.
The night was going to be fine.
She just needed to relax.
Gray was sure that Sage’s looks had stunned him in the past. He had no specific memory of the sight of her literally taking away his breath.
But as he watched her move around the carpeted floor, from table to table of black-coated men and gorgeously adorned women after her speech, answering questions, smiling, generally passing out confidence and security, instilling trust, he had a moment where he could hardly draw in air.
He’d always found her beautiful. And way too sexy for his own good. Her petiteness perfect for his own shorter stature. Letting him stand a good manly eight or nine inches taller than her.
His penis, as usual, had spent the night growing taller by her, too. By her. Across the room from her. Watching her sincerity reach the audience of seasoned investors...
And that smile, with lipstick under bright lights making it harder to ignore—he’d lost count of the times he’d been thankful for his buttoned suit coat.
Not that he didn’t have himself under control. He wasn’t walking around like some kind of letch. But the sudden infusions that quickly dissipated would have been a bit awkward if anyone else knew about them.
A guy couldn’t help what he couldn’t help.
While the night had been designed so that there would be no business transactions taking place at the event, with a designated web address printed on business cards and passed out to every attendee to express interest, Gray had several people come up to him at various points, wanting to meet him and shake his hand.
To tell him that they were interested in his concept and in doing business with him.
Sage’s firm was setting up a specific investment program, as opposed to selling stocks, that would pay initial investors back with percentages of profit sharing in addition to interest.
Gray lost track of how many hands he shook. His face started to get stiff from smiling. But he didn’t tire, for one second, of Sage’s continuous conversation, rehashing different aspects of the night, all the way home.
She spoke of unusually high percentages of attendees who expressed interest, about next steps, mentioned that the comedian Marissa had hired had done a great job pulling in the audience with investment jokes.
Purely professional, and still, in the glow from the streetlights under which he drove, she glowed. Even in the dark, her eyes seemed to sparkle.
So much so that he wanted to ask her if she’d like to stop at the place up on the hill, just above Ocean Breeze, for a nightcap. But didn’t want even a hint of impropriety. Of him taking advantage of the moment or putting her on the spot.
He didn’t want to ruin what was easily one of the best nights he’d had since he’d left her world all those years before.
“You want to stop for a drink?” Sage asked as he pulled onto the road that would take them down the cliff, past the elegant Rockcliff Restaurant and Bar, to Ocean Breeze.
With the invitation coming right on the heels of his own thought, he didn’t give any consideration at all to refusing. “Sure,” he told her, made the turn, parked and walked around to open her door for her. As he’d done countless times in the past.
She’d already let herself out.
Taking the reminder in stride, he walked beside her, not close enough to touch, and didn’t have to worry about getting the next door for her as there was a uniformed employee trusted with that task.
The bar, a quietly lit place with light walls and upholstered booths, with a few matching table and chair sets scattered about, was surprisingly busy. Making it easier to slide into a booth across from Sage and relax. She ordered a glass of wine—not her usual spritzer—and he asked for a scotch. What the hell, they were celebrating.
