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Touch me.
Not a word passes between us, the silence stretching like an elasticated band.
I pick up my glass and finish my Manhattan. I’m glad I refused another drink because I don’t trust myself around him anymore.
Although… Manhattan cocktails… followed by more great sex… hmm… Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing.
Don’t kid yourself; it would be a terrible idea.
“Have you had a good day?” Nathan asks, sounding less than interested.
“Not really. My boss is an ass,” I reply deadpan, looking straight ahead, knowing I’m crossing the boundary intounprofessional and we need more balance to the interactions we have. But to hell with it, he is an ass.
“My new secretary is one of those too. I overheard her telling another employee that I was old.” He sighs, almost exaggeratingly. “I’m so old now, my heart might not cope with that level of criticism.”
His unexpected dry wit surprises me and I burst out laughing. “You heard that?” I cover my mouth to stifle the loudness of my laughter that’s also laced with heavy embarrassment.
“Even though I’m practically geriatric now, my eyes and ears work perfectly fine, Arianna. I see and hear everything,” he snaps back. I know it’s his way of telling me that he’s tuned into every aspect of his business.
I shouldn’t have said that to Joseph earlier. Nathan is only forty-four.
And he fucks all night with the energy of a twenty-year-old, except his experience eclipses anyone I’ve ever slept with.
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again.
Best.
Sex.
Ever.
“I’m sorry,” I say, hoping I sound sincere.
Pleasantries aside, a gruff-soundinghmpfrattles his chest. “Accepted,” is all he says.
“Great. Well, I need to use the restroom and then I’m leaving.”
Resting his back against the seat, he drums his fingers on the tabletop. “So soon? That’s a shame because I was just about to show you the brochures I brought with me so you could help me pick out a retirement home,” he responds in a sardonic flat tone.
I think I like this playful side of him and if I stay any longer the way his mouth is now curving upward is too delicious to not have me wishing I could taste his lips again.
He’s too much of a temptation. And someone I shouldn’t be allowing to tempt me.
Flicking my hair over my shoulder, I grab my purse from under the table. “Well, I’m sorry but discussing what brand of walking cane you should buy next is less than appealing.” My voice drips with boredom, and I lower it to make sure no one else hears what I say next. “Before I go, would you like me to write a Post-it with your name and address on to make sure you get home safely? Just in case you forget where you live. Now that you’re getting older, your memory maybe isn’t quite as good as it once was.”
His jaw tightens in the same way it’s been doing since he spoke to me on my first day and when he goes to reply, I butt in and tell everyone I’m leaving then wave goodbye. With Stephanie from marketing on one side and Nathan on the other, I urge Nathan to let me out, which he does, albeit reluctantly.
I straighten the skirt of my dress and push the handle of my purse up over my shoulder once I’m out and wave goodbye one final time. “See you tomorrow.” Then I shift my attention to Nathan. “Mr. Hart.” I give him a curt nod, ignoring his death stare, swivel on the balls of my pumps and walk toward the bathroom.
Another day done.
Thank God that’s over.
12
NATHAN
If she thinks for one minute I’m letting her get away with any of her sass, she’s sadly mistaken.