Page 11 of 12 Days

I can't take my eyes off him as he slides the first bite into his mouth. My mind drifts even farther. Lucky fork!

I shiver and try to shake my head clear. The first bite of the food is good, but I would much rather have something else in my mouth.

Oh, my god! What's wrong with me?

I’m so not this kind of girl. A wanton whore who wants to fuck strangers. Well, at least I don't think I’m that kind of woman…

No, I’m definitely not.

Out of habit, I begin to chew my bottom lip when we speak. That’s something that I hate in females. The whole lips biting thing is so overdone.

Women don't do that—or do they? I’m not even sure right now what women do.

All I know for sure is that if my employer found out I’m flirting with someone we’re investigating, there would be hell to pay. I’d be fired for sure.

He simply watches me, just like back at the office. His eyes are on me, just like those of the other eleven men. Hunger and want.

I’m entertained knowing, like I’m putting on some sort of show. I know those looks, because just an hour before, they scalded my flesh with shame.

“So, now that it is just the two of us, would you like to express some of your concerns about our company to me?” Owen asks.

He’s trying to get to me on a personal level now, as if I might open up if I think he’s speaking to me on more of a ‘friendly’ level.

“I have concerns about the ingredients and the effects they can have on the female body. For example, does it make one less inhibited?” I ask, but it’s more of a statement than a question. I’m certain of it, even though he basically just shot that idea down. But I need to know.

“No. It's not like that at all, but—“ He stops as the waitress sits our food down in the middle of the conversation.

I want to tell him I think he is lying, but I won't. That’s no way to get anything. You get more flies with honey than with vinegar, right?

I’m not only a talented investigator, but I’m a confident woman to boot. I can handle one or a thousand men just like him and have them eating out of my palm.

“Wow, this smells delicious. You have great taste in food, Owen,” I say, smiling. I glance over, and his eyes are still on me. If a glance could penetrate, he’d already be inside of me.

He seems to know every thought, and, unfortunately for me, he already nearly knows every inch of me by sight.

I can't keep my eyes off of him. What's wrong with me? Even during the meal, I’m watching him?and his eyes are always on me.

“So, how’s the food?” I ask, my taste buds sedated from the delicious meal.

“Almost as delectable as the company.” Owen winks, his voice filled with quiet amusement.

I blush when he compares me to the food we’re dining on. Why must I blush at a time like this?

“You have a little something on your face,” Owen says, leaning in towards me. He uses his cloth napkin to dab the tiniest of specks from my cheek. I think it’s just a reason to touch me.

The flirting between us is something that anyone would pick up on if they were observing, but it doesn't seem to be over the top. I’m sure that Owen is only doing it because of what he saw me doing; he’s only trying to comfort me in my embarrassment.

For the rest of the meal, the banter of small talk back and forth fills the time. I can tell Owen’s flirting by the suggestive winks and smirks he gives me.

I’m not complaining, but it's not at all professional. I wonder now how I’ll ever get this back on a professional level between the two—or to be honest, all of the twelve—of us.

He pays the check, even though I suggest that I do. It's a business meeting, so that should be fine. Not a date, definitely, but him paying suggests otherwise.

As we exit, I can't help but shiver when his hand goes to the small of my back. He pulls me close to lead me as we make our way out. Okay, this is getting to be more than a conversation about the chemical compounds of perfume.

I stumble over my words as we walk out. “I, well, uhm, that was wonderful. Thank you. I’ll get with your receptionist about a follow-up meeting.”

I don't give him a chance to respond before walking away, but I can feel him watching my ass as I do. I’ve made such a fool of myself today. I need a little time to think and figure out my next plan of attack.