Page 33 of Runaway Bride for the Boss

She drops my pen on the desk and gets to her feet. “That sounds great, Alex. Why don’t we grab a bite to eat? It’s getting late, and if I wait until I’m back in the city, I’ll be famished.”

“Of course, my treat.” I also stand up, straightening my tie, then shrug on my jacket. “I know a great place.”

I study Charlie as we get into the elevator: light brown hair dyed nearly platinum blonde around her face is pulled back in a professional chignon. Piercing blue and brown eyes. Heterochromia, I believe. And a sharp mind. She’s a long way from the young woman who was nearly engaged to Ezra a few years ago and the heartbroken woman I saw at her father’s funeral last year.

“I thought your brother was supposed to join this meeting? What was his name again?” she asks easily, running her hand through her hair.

“Ezra. An unavoidable situation came up so he regrettably couldn’t join us,” I say smoothly, not buying her nonchalance at all. Doesn’t remember his name? I very much doubt that.

“Good. I know he can be a bit of a troublemaker, and our meeting might not have gone as smoothly had he joined us.”

I release a noncommittal, “Hmm.”

Once we’re outside, she chooses not to ride in my car. “Thanks, but I don’t want to come back here to get my car. I’ll just drive home from the restaurant.”

“You drove here yourself?” I’m surprised. Burlington is about two and half hours by car. I would’ve expected her driver to have brought her. “What about your driver?”

“I don’t have one.” She grins and her cheeks dimple. “I love to drive. It helps clear my mind.”

“I see,” I reply for lack of what to say. She gives me a two-finger salute so reminiscent of Ezra that I stare at her back as she walks away. My brows shoot up when she gets into a bright red Subaru BRZ. Surprising.

She flashes her headlights at me. I turn to see George already holding the door open. “Peter Havens,” I tell him as I get in.

“Very good, sir,” he replies.

I text Ezra as we leave the office.

Meet me at Liquid Elixir in 2 hours. Don’t even think about being late.

I’ll try to round up dinner as quickly as I can so I can scold him, then go home to Autumn. Will she even be there? She has her first night off from the bar tonight, and she’s a young woman in her twenties. What if she decided to go out?

No, she wouldn’t. I bet I’ll find her curled up in the library, nose in a silly book.

“We’re here, sir.” I glance at the popular Downtown restaurant. I probably should have called in advance to make a reservation, but they’ll make an exception for me. They always do.

“Wait for me. This won’t take long,” I instruct as I get out of the car. I watch Charlie expertly park her car down the road. When she gets out, I’m taken aback to see her hair is now let down her back.

She gives me a dimpled grin as she approaches. I realize a little objectively that she’s actually quite pretty. So, why aren’t I interested? She took her hair down for dinner and her lips are now glistening, which means she’s trying to look good for me. Or is that an arrogant assumption?

Normally, I wouldn’t hesitate to flirt with her through dinner, if you can call unrelenting eye contact flirting. It’s myonly move, and it hasn’t failed me yet. But for whatever reason, the effort sounds unappealing tonight. For her, anyway.

“This place looks amazing! But it seems to be packed, will we be able to get a table?”

“We better,” I mutter, suddenly in a foul mood as I march through the entrance of the restaurant. Damn it all.

“Okayyyyyy,” I hear Charlie say behind me. I wonder if she’s rolling her eyes right now, but I don’t care enough to turn back to check.

“Mr. Beaufort!” Rosie, the hostess walks forward, fluttering her hands nervously. “We weren’t expecting you tonight.”

“My companion and I need a table. Is my usual available?”

“Actually, the other Mr. Beaufort is at that table tonight.” I know it’s not my father leaving the comforts of his private chef to venture into town tonight, which means Ezra blew off our meeting to take one of his side pieces out? Fucker, I’m going to make him regret it.

“But we can get you one! Give me a moment, please,” Rosie adds quickly and rushes inside. I glance back at Charlie who’s gone stiff as a board.

“Is there a problem?” I raise a brow, not caring about the answer either way. I’m already regretting agreeing to this dinner.

“She said ‘the other Mr. Beaufort.’ That would be Ezra…right?”

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