Page 75 of Crash Course
"Honey," he said, "there’s no place I’d rather be."
13
Having had enoughof Randolph Industries—just being in the building infuriated her—Cilla packed up files to take home, where she’d work for the rest of the day and evening.
After a quick meeting with Layla to discuss the schedule for the following week, Cilla stepped off the elevator and into the glass-enclosed lobby, accompanied by Cruz, who’d dutifully dragged her giant rolling briefcase along.
They walked out of the building, standing still for a moment while small clusters of pedestrians navigated the sidewalk.
Late afternoon sunshine beamed down. Needing the respite after the draining interlude with her father, she took a second to tip her head back, take in the heat, and breathe.
Immediately, some of the tension left her neck and shoulders. Amazing what fresh oxygen and sunshine could do.
She pointed to the corner. "I’m in the garage across the street." She reached for the briefcase. "I can take that."
He waved her off. "Nah. I’m parked there, too. I’ll walk you."
Never one to pass up an excellent offer, Cilla nodded. A few minutes with Mr. Delicioso would settle her nerves. And how pathetic was she, considering a brief walk to her car companionship?
Need a life, Cilla.
At the corner, a car took the turn too sharply and Cruz reached his arm in front of her, backing her up a step. "Slow down, asshole," he muttered to the driver.
While waiting for the light to change, he faced her. "Are you sure I can’t buy you an early dinner?"
"I would, in fact, love that. But this PFOA project has me backed up and I have a murder case to prep for."
The plea deal she’d managed helped. At least she wouldn’t lose days or a week on a trial. However, the murder trial loomed and she needed to get cooking on that. She’d yet to fully study her investigator’s notes that Layla had given her days ago.
A clone.
That’s what she needed.
But how long would a man like Cruz Blackwell wait around for her to become un-busy? The way he looked? He probably had women lined up for a chance to screw his lights out.
And, ugh. A vision of Cruz and some sexy blonde banging each other filled her mind, sent heat straight to her cheeks because she didnotlike that.
At all.
Still waiting for the light, she gripped his arm. "Ask me again, though. Okay? I enjoy your company."
A horn sounded, drawing their attention to the light that had just turned green and a seriously impatient driver honking at the car in front of him.
People angled around them, hustling across the street, but they stood there, gazes locked and Cruz flashing his killer smile.
"Honey," he said, "I’ll ask you every day if you want."
No.She didn’t want that. Some women might get an ego boost out of Cruz Blackwell chasing after them. Her? Out of simple respect, she wouldn’t allow it.
Which meant making the time. Tomorrow was Friday, she’d have the entire weekend to hunker down and work. Not exactly a fun-sounding time, but it might give her wiggle room for a date with Cruz.
"Tomorrow night," she said. "How’s that? You available?"
He tipped his head one way, then the other. "A Friday night date? I like it."
"Perfect. I'll be in Asheville."
"Good. But, hey, since you’re not available tonight, maybe I’ll call Ash. See if he’s around." He pointed to the red don’t-walk sign. "Missed the light."
