Page 8 of A Foolish Work Flirtation

Fair enough. I shouldn’t ask other employees what they think of their boss. “I didn’t mean to put you in an awkward position. I’m just curious.”

“I made a few calls while you were packing. The Starlings Guest House had an open room. I booked it for you. The proprietor suggested a restaurant called Sixty-Four Degrees.”

I am making a mess of everything. Kate told me I’d need to step in and take care of whatever was needed. But instead, I insisted on being coddled. “Thank you. If you drop me off, I can manage dinner alone. I’ll take an Uber back in the morning.”

Lorimer glances at me. “I thought you might like company for dinner. I made a reservation for seven. I’ll park near the hotel, and we can walk?”

I look out at the beachside community and notice many restaurants and pubs. It would be nice to have dinner with someone tonight. I’m trying to get my bearings. And eating alone in a restaurant seems lonely. “I don’t want to impose, but if you’d like some company at dinner, then I’m game.”

He smiles at me, and my heart gives a tiny flutter. “It’s settled then.”

Lorimer waits on the sidewalk while I go into the Starlings Guest House and check in. The older woman behind the counter insists Bespoke Events paid for the room for two nights and won’t take my credit card.

I follow the woman upstairs, and she opens a door marked seventeen and turns on the light. The room looks cozy, with crisp bed linens and fresh flowers on a side table. Stepping forward, I touch the striped comforter folded along the bottom of the bed. The fabric and weight remind me of luxury.

“The room is beautiful.”

The woman smiles. “Breakfast is served in the dining room from seven to ten in the morning. Enjoy your stay.”

After removing a few things from my handbag, I step into the bathroom and touch up my makeup.

Heading back outside into the cold, I see Lorimer leaning against his car, and my awareness of him ratchets up a notch. He’s wearing a knit hat that frames his masculine face and highlights his strong square jawline. I’m surprised Kate never mentioned him. He is someone that would spark her interest. He’s confident and hugely attractive. He’s probably engaged or married.

Lorimer steps onto the sidewalk. “It’s about six blocks. Are you warm enough to walk? You should probably wear a hat.”

I tighten the white scarf around my neck and zip up my Patagonia jacket. “I don’t like to wear hats. My hair gets too tangled.”

He gestures down the sidewalk and starts walking towards the restaurant. “In cold weather situations, a hat is critical.”

I reach into my pockets and remove my gloves, putting them on my hands. “I’m fine.”

“You’ll need survival skills if you plan on covering Kate for the next month.”

I shrug. “I’m hoping surfing in Belize, or Antiqua isn’t that hard. At least it’ll be warm, and I’ll be helping beginners.”

“The water there is rough. And it’s not easy to learn to surf. You’ll need to cajole out of shape city dwellers into the rough seas.”

I look at him. “I’m excited. I have been to Costa Rica but not Belize or Antiqua. I spend all my time locked in a classroom in New York City. It’ll be amazing to be near the ocean.”

His eyes narrow. “Attitude is eighty percent.”

I laugh, thinking about how difficult surfing can be. “What is the other twenty?”

“Skill and persistence.”

We pass by a couple pushing a stroller. I think about my sister Ivy. She and her husband announced a few weeks ago that they were expecting. It’s hard to imagine Ivy with a baby. But she is amazing with Tallulah, so maybe it’s not too much of a stretch.

“You seem lost in your thoughts.”

I smile. “My older sister is expecting a baby in June. Seeing that little one in the stroller reminded me. She lives in London. Pretty soon, she’ll be pushing a baby stroller down the sidewalk.”

“Are you a fan of babies?” He doesn’t look at me, but his masculine voice cuts into the night air.

“I guess. They are adorable. But I’m not ready for one.” I speed up to keep pace with him.

A relaxed silence stretches between us for a few minutes. I wonder what he is thinking. Maybe he is not a fan of children.

He glances over at me. “How old are you?”

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