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Instead of reading more into it than you need to, just run with it.
Her eyes held so many questions and I decided to answer the easiest one: what's next?
I took another kiss, inhaling her deep before I released her with a smile. “Let's grab a drink.”
Eddy's held all the charm of a proper San Francisco watering hole. Wood furnishings that dueled with the industrial beams and exposed metal bones of the building. Eco meets tech. Neutral colors surrounded us, gray and black chairs and tables filling the blank space. An ebony bar stretched the length of the room, scattered with women and men buzzing around them like flies.
I steered Penny toward the end of the bar. Two unoccupied stools were in the line of sight of a pink haired bartender, but offered us a degree of privacy.
My proposition could either be met with interest—or disgust. If this weird night was going to come crashing down, I wanted as few people as possible to witness the nosedive.
We settled in our seats, rubbing our hands together and letting the warmth in as the chatter rose around us. The change of venue was a good thing. The music at the club was meant to encourage less talking and more movement: dancing, grinding. I was a fan of both but here, I got to see the woman beneath the smoke.
And she was beautiful. Not in an overt, in your face kind of way that I usually went for. The makeup she wore actually did more hiding than accentuating. I wanted to wash all of it away so I could see all the layers of green and brown and gold in her hazel eyes. The delicate nostrils that flared as she pretended she was taking in the room and not watching me watch her told me that she was stubborn. Feisty. And those lips—the gloss was all but gone and I could make out the contours of her mouth. A mouth made for kissing.
She made a face at me before she turned away, trying to get the bartender's attention. “My mother always said it was impolite to stare.”
“She should know better than anyone how impossible it is to not stare at you. You're beautiful, Penny.”
The look she gave me was so incredulous that it made my fingers twitch into a fist, ready to take on whatever demons had convinced her to take compliments with a grain of salt. Before I could tell her that it wasn't a line, the bartender breezed toward us, her double nose rings gleaming as brightly as her smile.
“What can I get for you two?”
She ordered a vodka tonic with lime and I seconded her order.
“No bourbon?” she asked, eyebrow lifted in surprise.
“Not tonight,” I winked.
Any light in her eyes dimmed a couple of notches. “You're trouble, aren't you, Xander?”
I knew what she wanted to hear. She wanted me to lie and say that she was safe with me. For the first time in years, I wanted the words to be true. The best thing I could do for her was to be honest.
“It sounds like we both have a bit of family drama,” I began, dredging up my own sordid situation. “I'm at the head of the family business, but my father's primed to give the reins to my sister.” I relaxed in my seat, mentally sinking onto the psychiatrist's couch, ready to spill all the skeleton's in my closet. What was it about her that made me feel safe? Like she cared? Was it the way she listened so intently? Or the quiet solidarity in her eyes, a kindred look of someone used to being disappointed by their family?
I decided to dial it back and give her what she needed to know. “My dad is sick and decided to add something special for me in his will. If I don't get and keep a girlfriend for a month, I'm ousted.”
Our drinks arrived just in time. The bartender asked about a tab but I just handed her a couple of twenties, telling her to keep the change.
Penny took a long gulp of hers before she placed her hand over mine. “I'm sorry about your dad.”
She meant it, squeezing my fingers tight and sending warm pangs through my chest. I cleared my throat as I used the other hand to white knuckle my drink. “He's lived a full life.”
“Sounds like he wants to make sure you live a certain life, whether you want to or not,” she mused, staring into her drink.
Her words meant more to me than I let on. “I'm used to making sacrifices and hard decisions,” I said gruffly. When she gave me a sidelong glance, I lightened my voice and added a nonchalant shrug. “Occupational hazard.”
“Yeah,” she said slowly, peering at me with a studied patience that reminded me of a teacher having the umpteenth conversation with a difficult student. “But this is more than just a job.” She used her straw as a pointer, making a large rectangle in the air. “I'm guessing you work in one of the skyscrapers downtown and you've been proving yourself since you got your MBA. You dress well and throw money around like confetti because you want people to know that you're successful. The one man that you want to notice hasn't though. In fact, he's kind of crapping all over your work by saying your contribution means so little that he'll take it away if you don't change your Facebook status.” She paused, dropping her gaze as her cheeks bloomed with embarrassment. “Sorry, I get chatty and inappropriate when I'm nervous.”
“No need to apologize,” I murmured, trying to downplay just how awed I was that she hit the nail on the head. “Sounds like you know something about not being noticed.”
“I'm a special ed teacher and I've fought to make real changes in my district for my kids,” she explained. “I'm even taking the show on the road to be a thorn in the side of several districts in the state when I get back from vacation. My parents don't even ask about my job because my first mistake was not going into law or medicine. The only question they care about is if I'm dating someone and if so, does he do something respectable?” She angrily chugged the rest of her drink. She pushed the empty glass away and tugged her hair over one shoulder, ringing the brown strands.
“You know, I do something respectable for a living.”
She stopped twisting. “What?”
“I need a girlfriend, and you need a boyfriend. Temporarily,” I added quickly. I was usually on point when it came to selling ideas. I could make even the most unappealing concept, like I'm going to fix your company and lay off thousands, sound like roses because the profits or vision I had for the company trumped the collateral damage. My words stumbled with Penny. It didn't help that she was gaping at me like I'd just asked her to hike up her skirt and mount me.
