Rated R, NSFW
Read previous chapters or from the start here: Blythe and Mac’s story
I covered my nerves with as practiced smiled as I approached an impatient Tom and a leering Mac.
“All set Blythe?” Mac asked as the elevator doors opened.
Tom gave into his antsy attempt at being quiet the moment the doors confined us to the stale small space. “I beg your pardon but I simply don’t see how this could remotely work-”
Mac held his hand up and Tom shut his mouth with a click of teeth. “We’ll talk business over lunch.” Mac looked down my blouse and I pretended not to notice. A flash of pleasure rippled outward from my core as the image of that dammed GIF played in my mind again. “I’ve decided Tom; and that’s that.”
Such finality, a luxury of a man used to having his way. We stepped off the elevator and out through the lobby. My cell was buzzing in my purse and I ignored it. I knew who it was.
“Perhaps you should check your phone.” Tom said curtly after the third round.
“It’s not work related.” I walked with them to a sleek dark silver two door Mercedes sport car.
“Perhaps it is important?” Mac said opening the passenger side as Tom walked to a dark blue Audi that had sexy chrome trim.
“No it’s not.” I sat and admired the flawless leather interior. This car was either new or it’s well taken care of. I’m not the kind of woman who gets hot over cars or wealth, but even I would admit that this car was probably be a panty-remover if the circumstances were different. This man was off limits for many reasons, the first being that he is a client and I like my job.
“Tell me Blythe.” He said as he buckled and turned the engine over at the same time. “Why a starlit patio? Does it have a personal sentimental appeal?”
Was he fishing? Nah. That was just my revved up hormones hoping he was. “No, nothing sentimental. I saw it in a movie and thought it was romantic. I don’t know-”
He held his hand up and I scowled. Pure natural instinct. I dislike being interrupted and so rudely.
“No Blythe I wanted an honest idea that is unlike any other. I got that. Had you said anything France, or Italian I would have been polite, told you what I wanted and I wouldn’t have invited you to lunch.” He laughed as he sped around a corner faster than I was comfortable with. “Spit it out, I don’t bite.”
I shook my head and tapped my fingers on my laptop. I was not about to lip off to a client now and clean my desk out for it.
“I didn’t peg you for a coward.”
I snorted and looked out the window. “Perhaps Mr. Waterstone my held tongue is out of respect.”
“Ooh I see, back to Mister. I must have touched a nerve. What could you possibly say that would get you fired? Am I that bad?”
“If I must be the only professionally behaved person in this car so be it.”
“Ouch. That stung.” Mac laughed as he pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant he was going to overhaul. “Like a mosquito bite. Was I wrong about you Blythe?” He pulled into a parking space by the door, turned off the engine, unbuckled in one smooth move and turned to meet my eyes. “Can you hold your own or not?” The nuance in his tone suggested me meant that in more ways than the obvious. Could I? As a client yes, as a man yes, but as a man I’d rather rip my clothes off and have his way with me? The jury’s still out on that verdict.
My body hummed from his proximity and the challenge. I could, but should I? So far today, I’ve been anything but what I should and it’s been fine, better than fine. How far can I push my luck? I unbuckled and put my hand on the door.
“Tell you what Mr. Waterstone, you start behaving like a man and I’ll stop regarding you as a child.” I opened my door and got out myself. Shit did I just say that? Yes, I did and he was chuckling as he walked around the car and we made our way toward the restaurant.
“Have you been here before?” Mac asked.
“Yes.” Though the circumstance was not something I wanted to remember. It was a cold and modern restaurant. Black, silver, grey and glass. Very stylish and trendy. And boring.
“That does not sound like a good yes.”
“Crappy date and no offense but the atmosphere did not lend to decent conversation.”
Mac nodded as we walked through the empty dining room. “Which is why I fired Henri for not only insisting following the trend he thought would be best, but pouring money into a crap design and lying about and falsifying the reviews.”
Mac gestured for me to sit at a black glass table for four. I looked around at the space and up at the very high ceiling. My luck was still in full swing. With the abnormally high ceiling my idea will work. Mac reached for my suit jacket, his hand brushed my shoulder as he took my jacket. The resulting shiver made me look at his hand. From just a touch? And not even skin to skin?
When I looked at his face, his blue eyes were unsure, startled even. I sat and opened my laptop and looked around again for distraction. This could work. I needed to ask a question.
Tom stomped over and sat after taking his jacket off. “Awful isn’t it? Every other place is packed for lunch but not this shiny shit hole.”
I snickered and liked Tom a little more. “The food was amazing so that’s not the problem.” I nodded as my imagination started shifting and filling in the space. “It’s hard to see past the glass.” I giggled. “Even if it’s translucent.”
Mac rolled his eyes as a server brought out wine. “As usual, the salvageable furniture and fixtures can go to auction or charity.”
“Who approved this?” I shook my head at the wine. “No thank you.”
Tom hitched his thumb at Mac. “Mr. Impulsive. Don’t take this too personally sweetheart but I sure as hell hope you have a plan better than this glass catastrophe.”
I hate, hate, hate being called sweetheart. “I’m working on it little man.”
Mac nearly spit out the lemon water he just sipped and Tom grinned.
“But I’ll need to do some research before I can do some mock-ups and a quote. The space is good. Gorgeous actually. I already have the blueprints so I don’t need to measure. I’ll take some pictures before I leave.”
“To laugh at?” Tom smirked.
I looked him straight in the eye. “This.” I gestured to the ugly table. “Is no laughing matter. Some poor schmuck is going to buy this crap at an auction and think they’re getting a bargain. We very well might go to hell for it especially if it’s donated for free to a charity.”
Both men laughed as the server brought out plates of food. We hadn’t ordered.
“Chef’s specialty.” The server set the plates down and left.
“I think he’s looking forward to a better looking restaurant an.” Tom unfolded his cloth napkin.
“He deserves better.” Mac nodded. Neither touched their food until I did. Interesting.
“I suppose I need to ask Mr. Waterstone, do you want real or fake?”
“Ooh Mr. huh?” Tom turned to Mac. “What did you say to piss her off?”
“I believe I’ve offended her somehow. It’s still an unsolved mystery.”
I turned my attention to my meal and savored the perfectly cooked trout. I chose to eat instead of justify myself.
Tom tilted his head to the side. “You’re interesting.”
“How so?” I bit into a perfectly grilled asparagus spear.
“Most women, and I don’t say this to be narcissistic, are flirty or forward with one or both of us from start to finish. You are either unnaturally professional or taken.”
“Nice fishing pal.” I sipped my lemon water. Professional but I had no intention of explaining that either.
Tom’s slow smile was half-creepy half charming. “You didn’t answer.”
“I don’t have to.” I shifted in my seat under Tom’s scrutiny.
Mac got up and set his napkin down. “Excuse me a moment.”
Both Tom and I watched him leave then looked back at each other.
“He’s going to ask you out.” Toms blunt statement made me nearly drop my fork.
To be continued…
Copyright © 2017 All rights reserved
Next Chapter: #5 Sun Kissed