Page 13 of Missed Communication
“A date?” I whisper-shout, leaning in to add, “We can’t date.”
He shrugs, humor dancing in his stare. “Why not? It’s just for a week, right? What’s the harm in dating until you have to leave?”
“Because then I might… Never mind.”
“Well, I doubt they serve wagyu here, but pick whatever you want, because date or not, you’re sure as hell aren’t paying on my watch.”
“And what if I slide my card into the little bill folder first. Then what?”
“Do you really want to find out?” He leans in closer to whisper, “I never got to be your chair last night, but maybe you need a reminder that I can make you come without even being inside you. I don’t mind doing it over and over until you’re begging me to stop.”
I open and close my mouth a few times, searching for my rebuttal I can’t seem to come up with. This is feeling eerily similar to how Isaac wooed Olivia, and he’s probably picked up a few moves from the Prime Minister. If that’s the case, I’m doomed to fall madly in love with this dirty talking Canadian.
“Fine,” I concede. “You can pay, but there will be no mustache rides today.”
“If you say so.”
The hostess returns with our drinks, and a moment later our server appears. “Hi, I’m Zara. Do you need a few more minutes?”
“Maybe,” he replies for us, a devilish smirk tilting his lips. “What are your specials?”
“We have a top sirloin, cooked medium in our housemade garlic butter, served with your choice of a twice baked potato or seasonal vegetables. It also includes a side salad or soup.”
A staredown ensues between Jamie and me, and when neither of us budge, our server is about to offer to come back, but I break. “I’ll take that, with the potato.” This may be the last time I can eat a medium steak for the rest of the year, after all.
“I’ll have the same,” Jamie adds without breaking eye contact. “Extra butter on the side, please.”
“Soup or salad?”
“Salad,” we reply at the same time.
“Dressing? We have?—”
“Caesar.” Again our reply comes in unison, and it takes everything in me to not smile.
Jamie lifts his menu for her and I do the same. It isn’t until she takes them that he finally looks her way. “Thank you.” Once she’s gone, he quietly tells me, “Good girl. I told you last night that you’ll need your energy for later.”
I ignore the praise that has my thighs clenching and ask, “What’s later? There’s only a panel and a small roundtable discussion for Livy.”
“There are a few hours before the dinner, and I have it on good authority that your room won’t be occupied.”
I do a quick sweep of our surroundings to ensure no one is nearby. “Will you keep your voice down? We aren’t going back to my room for a quickie before dinner.” On second thought, if I keep this as a purely sexual arrangement, I won’t be at riskof falling for a man I’ll never see again after this week. Tracy mentioned she was going to get ready with a new friend from England, so my room will indeed be empty. How he knows that is beyond me, but there’s no harm in indulging him. “Actually… you never gave me back my room key, so come by after the last roundtable.”
“I didn’t?” He reaches for his wallet and pulls out two. “Fuck, you’re right. Which one is yours?”
I take a sip of my iced tea and speak into the glass to hide my smile, “Guess we’ll find out later. How do you know my room will be free?”
“There’s a marketing meeting before dinner with the team from the U.K..”
“Shouldn’t you be attending that?”
He lightly bites his bottom lip as he smirks. “I’m sending someone in my place.”
“You orchestrated all of it, didn’t you?”
“I’ll never tell,” he replies with a light chuckle, adding two sugar packets into his tea.
“Very sneaky. So, what’s your story? How is someone like you single? Are you sure there isn’t a secret girlfriend or wife I should know about? Is she going to storm over and toss a water into your face?”
