The hostess came rushing up. “Your usual table?”
James nodded.
“Just one moment.”
She rushed away again and Charlotte gave him an awestruck smile. “How’d you do that?”
“Eat here every week and I tip like a motherfucker.”
They were tucked into a booth and he ordered Mongolian beef and a scotch, and Charlotte settled on radishes or some other weird shit and a sparkling water. He’d forgotten she didn’t drink. Another strange thing for someone as young and gorgeous as she was. Maybe she was one of those child alcoholics who swore off booze young. He entertained himself with the thought of a drunk teen Charlotte, then decided to ask. “How long you been sober for?”
She laughed. “I’m not an alcoholic; it’s just a habit I outgrew when I started yoga. Loads of early mornings. Besides, I’m a tired drunk, teetotaler me is a lot more fun.”
That’s right, yoga, the reason Miss Charlotte had a body that was impossibly toned, not to mention her vice of a pussy. James took a swig of scotch and grimaced. It was not going down smooth tonight. “How long you been doing yoga?”
Charlotte fiddled with her dove-shaped napkin. “Maybe we shouldn’t talk yoga tonight? Hey, our food, that was quick.”
James watched as the waiter spread the napkin across Charlotte’s lap, wanting to tell the guy to watch his goddamn hands. “Why can’t we talk about yoga?”
Charlotte picked up her chopsticks and began effortlessly working noodles into her mouth. “Because you seem like someone who thinks yoga belongs in the same category as fortune telling and mood rings.”
She had a point. Exercise meant cardio and weights, not twisting your body into a pretzel, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t curious about the idea. Or turned on. “Enlighten me.”
Charlotte hesitated. “You have topromiseto be open-minded.”
“Hey, have I said one word about those gnarly white things you’re eating?”
“It’s lotus root. It’s traditional.”
“Yeah, well you can keep that shit. I’ll stick to the traditions that involve dead animals.”
Charlotte poked her tongue out at him, but consented to tell him about her classes at the small studio on High Street. As she talked, he watched her, unable to believe something so bright and shiny had been paired with such twisted desires. She was in the middle of a story about a bodybuilder who couldn’t touch his toes when heavy hands descended on his shoulders. “Well, well, well. What do we have here?”
He knew things were going too smoothly.Fuck.
Aside from Sophia, Joel Westwood was the last person James would ever want interrupting his date with Charlotte—not that it was a date. Still, there was nothing he could do. Without waiting for any kind of a response, Joel flung himself into the seat beside him and eyed Charlotte like she was an untapped oil reserve. “Evening, Hunter, how’s it going?”
“Good,” James said, hoping Westwood would take his monosyllabic answer as a hint and fuck off.
“Ever the conversationalist aren’t you, Jim?” He turned to Charlotte. “And just where has Hunter been hiding you?”
She gave him a smile that was all public relations. “Nowhere in particular. I’m Charlie.”
She extended a hand and Joel shook it. “Lemme guess; you met by chance one evening and instantly fell for Jim’s good looks and drawling southern charm?”
Charlotte’s fake smile grew wider. “Something like that. How do you and James know each other?”
“Jim’s my boss.” Westwood gave a theatrical yawn. “We know all kinds of things about each other, don’t we?”
James’ stomach turned over. Westwood did know things about him. Things he didn’t want within shouting distance of Charlotte. He seriously considered plunging a butter knife into Joel’s eye to get him to shut the fuck up when a voice shouted that Westwood’s takeout was ready.
“You better go get that,” James said with a pointed look at the counter.
“Thank you, Jim, but I do know how takeout works.” Westwood stood up. “A few of us are heading to Diamond Bar on Friday, see you there?”
James gave a noncommittal grunt.
“Excellent.” Joel rounded on Charlotte. “You’re more than welcome to join, sweetheart. It’s always a pleasure to spend time with one of Jim’s girls.”