“What kind of a question is that? You’re my boss. I should report you for harassment.”
“Go right ahead. HR can send someone to spank me.”
“That isn’t funny.”
“I apologise. Look, if you’re ace, I’m the last person to judge. Just own it. Don’t blush.”
“Ace?”
“Asexual.” When she looked blank, he clarified. “Little to no sexual desire, but as with so many things, that covers a broad spectrum.”
“Oh, I’m not that. I mean, I don’t think so.” Meera grew more flustered. Cute. “I just… I just chose to focus on my studies, that’s all. And this is a totally inappropriate conversation to be having.”
When she eyed up the car door as if she was considering jumping out of it, Brax knew it was time to change the subject.
“When we get to the hotel, find Debra and help with anything she needs. She puts a significant amount of effort into organising this benefit each year, but her event-planning experience is limited, and she tends to panic if anything goes wrong.”
“What about you? Don’t I need to hold your used cocktail sticks and come up with an excuse to leave if you get stuck talking to somebody boring?”
Brax stifled a smile. “I don’t believe canapés are being served, but if you see Congressman Drummond speaking to me, I’d appreciate being rescued. Does this mean you’re not going to quit?”
“I need the weekend to think about it.”
At least she was honest.
“Mr. Vale? I’m afraid there’s an issue with one of the auction lots. Would you mind helping? So sorry to interrupt.”
Brax hadn’t actually expected Meera to rescue him. But five minutes into the congressman’s monologue about lawn care, she’d tapped him on the shoulder. Thank fuck for that.
“Of course. Max, I do apologise.”
“Sure, sure, catch you later.”
Meera sashayed across the bar, looking more comfortable than he’d expected in the heels Teresa had found for her. And the dress… He couldn’t decide whether to give Teresa a pay raise or a reprimand. The thing had no back. Nothing from shoulders to waist. Meera clearly wasn’t wearing a bra, and Brax’s gaze dropped to her perfect ass as he followed her to the door.
“Is there really an issue with an auction lot?”
A flicker of uncertainty appeared in those expressive umber eyes of hers.
“You said I should excuse you from Congressman Drummond.”
“Yes, but I didn’t realise you even knew who he was.”
“I googled him, although the pictures on his website make him look fifty pounds lighter.”
“The right camera angle can work wonders. Excellent timing, by the way. Dinner’s just about to start.”
“Oh, well, in that case, I’ll leave you to eat.”
She veered to the left, and without thinking, Brax grabbed her hand. She tugged it free and faced him, hands on her hips.
“Don’t manhandle me.”
“I apologise.” He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. “Where are you going?”
“Out of the way?”
“Why?”