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I pretend to check the phone again. “Just making sure I have the right place.” I move toward him, then pause. Is this one of those tipping situations? I have nothing to offer him in the way of cash. A compliment will have to suffice.
“I love your mustache, it’s very Tom Selleck.”
“Uh, thank you.” He nods as I pass by.
“Thank you.” I smile back and step into the beautiful Italian restaurant. Golden sconces line the rich maroon walls. Mahogany tables covered in white tablecloths and adorned with flowers and candles lend to the elegant atmosphere. The delicious smell has my mouth watering already. Cheese and carbs, that’s all a woman needs. That and some chocolate on the hard days.
The hostess’s desk is empty and I hide behind it while I scan the open dining area like a spy, staking out my suspects.
There are two brown-haired men in suits, but only one is facing the entrance.
The muscles are even better than his profile picture. His face is clean-shaven and his hair is perfectly styled. I like a man who takes time to look good. And he does look good. Even from here, I can tell he’s more handsome than the devil himself. (I'm assuming the devil is handsome. How else does he get so many people to follow him?)
That’s Chad. I can feel it in my bones.
I take a deep breath to calm my nerves, and before I can change my mind, walk forward.
Chad doesn’t look up as I approach. In fact, he seems to be trying his best to not look at me.
Strike one. I did not pick out this dress to not be noticed.
“Um excuse me, Chad?” I sit myself down across from him and slap my palms on the table.
Chad jerks back into his seat, green eyes so wide I can see my reflection in them. My hair looks alarmingly dull.
“I’m Amelia.” I fluff my hair before shooting my hand across the table and right into his space.
Chad stares at it. At me.
Strike two. Proper greetings are important. I don’t care what anyone says.
“I’m sorry.” He ducks his head and mutters something into his collar. “I thi—”
I cut him off. “No. I’m sorry I’m late. I’ve never done this before.”
“This…?” His brows furrow, his eyes darting to someone on my left and then back to me.
I sit up straighter. “It’s embarrassing to admit it out loud. I’m a grown woman for heaven’s sake. Everyone is doing this kind of thing now, even thirteen-year-olds, which is downright scary. But for an adult woman, it’s natural, not weird, right?”
Chad is absolutely silent. He’s motionless, like a statue. He hasn't blinked in thirty seconds. The right eye is twitching though.
I can’t help it, I ramble when I’m nervous. My body doesn’t know how else to deal with awkward situations and self-destructs in the form of inappropriately timed humor and confusing words.
Weird. He thinks I’m weird. My neck burns hot. The girl on fire has caught fire.
Strike three. But maybe that one’s on me.
Chapter 2
Caleb
I try not to stare at the woman seated across from me but it’s impossible. First of all, she’s not supposed to be here. Second, I’m working, or trying. And third, and most importantly, she just put herself in potential danger.
I rub my chin and glance six tables over to where my target, Liam Hawthorne, sits, tapping away on his phone. The man has killed people. Well, he’s suspected of killing people, but he’s mostly known for his white-collar crimes.
Nothing screams “rookie agent” like babysitting a suspected art thief. My partner, Serena Cruz, and I have been watching this guy since he landed in the U.S. two nights ago. But he hasn’t done anything besides order takeout and go on walks in the park. And flirt with every woman under thirty. Call me a glutton for punishment but I was hoping for a bit more excitement for my first official FBI case since transferring back to Arizona. Which is why I have to prove myself. Hawthorne is young and arrogant, believing he’s untouchable since he hasn’t been caught.
Yet. I’ll be changing that soon.