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No such luck. He lifted his pad of paper and made some more notes.
“Hey, I’m not really a loan shark. I’ll sue you for libel if you put that in there.”
He shrugged it off like he’d been threatened with that before. “Let’s say you’re not into anything illegal—how does someone as young as you front an endeavor like this?”
“First of all, I’m not fronting anything. I own and run my own business. Secondly, I’m thirty, probably around the same age as you. Which makes me wonder what happened to make you so cynical. Maybe you need some more sugar in your diet.” I gave him the snidest pressed-lip smile.
He sat up straight as a pin. “I’m doing my job, Ms. Black. And you’re awfully defensive.”
Defensive? Of course I was being defensive—he intimated I was into something illegal. “Well, Mr. Knight, if being a jerk is part of your job description, you deserve a raise.” I pointed at his stupid pad of paper. “You can quote me on that.” I scooted back my chair and stood. “I think this interview is over.”
“No problem.” He glared. “I have other ways of getting the information I need.”
My jaw dropped. What kind of information did he need? I made wedding cakes for goodness’ sake. “You have fun with that. Except, I wonder if you know what that word means. Maybe you can do some research on that.”
“Oh, I’ll be doing research.” He held up his fancy phone that looked more like a tablet.
I gripped the back of my chair, white knuckling it while wearing the face of someone calm, cool, collected, and not cursed. “I don’t know what you think you’ll find except what an idiot you are for investigating a woman who bakes wedding cakes, but go ahead,” I dared him, all while hoping he wouldn’t call my bluff. As careful as my family had been to keep our secrets, I would be naive to think it was foolproof, especially in this digital age. It was getting harder and harder to hide our youth and longevity. Hence why I tried to keep myself off social media. Josie hated that I would never let her post selfies of us. I always used the excuse that I thought social media was what was wrong with society and didn’t want any part of it. Why hadn’t I said that a minute ago to the egotistical man sitting across from me? Still, with all that said, this bakery was purchased on the up and up, and I wasn’t lying about my age. At least not yet.
Eric stood ever so slowly, pressed his strong hands on the small table between us, and leaned forward, inches from my face. As much as I loathed him, the strange urge from before to kiss him welled up inside of me, even more intense this time. So much so I gripped the chair until it hurt, forcing myself not to lean forward. It didn’t lessen the magnetic pull and vibrations that bounced between us. In his shocked eyes I could see he felt it, too, yet he didn’t move away. Instead he inched forward with steel determination etched on his refined features.
“One thing I’m not, and that’s an idiot,” he punctuated each word, slowly and deeply. It was mesmerizing. As was his minty breath that drifted between us, acting like one of my elixirs, soothing me into a place I didn’t want to be. Except every part of me wanted to erase any distance between us. What was wrong with me?
No! I had to scream in my head. Coming to my senses, I stood tall and put some distance between us. “That’s debatable,” I zinged back.
“I’m up to debating you anytime, Ms. Black. I have a feeling we’ll be seeing each other again, very soon.”
“Don’t count on it.”
“I think you’ll find it’s you who has miscalculated.” He flashed me a cocky grin before he gathered his phone and notes.
I stood stunned for a moment, not knowing what to say. I was right about his smile—it was dashedly handsome, and I hated myself for being drawn to him. More than that, I was stunned because honestly, I never miscalculated. I always innately knew what to do. It’s why I’d agreed to do the interview. It felt right. I didn’t see him coming, at all. Why was that?
“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” I said, which was, let’s admit, a lame comeback, but it was all I had in me. “And by the way, I’ll be filing a complaint with the paper and canceling my online subscription.”
He chuckled so deep and rich I felt it in my chest. “You do that. See you later.”
“Ugh.” I so badly wanted to chuck the cake at his head. Instead I turned to find everyone in the bakery silently staring at me with wide eyes, wondering what that was all about. I wondered the same thing. Perhaps, though, I should have been a little more discreet. I hated that I had let him get to me. I was normally even keeled.
