Byron grinned, gave a mock salute. “Yes, sir.”
As they moved off, Lexi could feel the searing heat of Quentin’s gaze boring into her, compelling her to glance back. But she resisted the urge. She knew the only way she’d be able to enjoy the evening was to put him out of her mind, starting now.
But this proved to be easier said than done, she soon discovered. Because even if she’d been able to pretend that Quentin wasn’t seated a few tables away, it wouldn’t have mattered. Byron couldn’t stop talking—correction,gushing—about him.
“…honestly don’t know how I could have gotten through law school without Quentin. He really took me under his wing, making sure I understood the course material and kept my grades up. And since he’d also gone to Emory, he was able to give me advice on how to deal with certain professors. He’s been great. I couldn’t have asked for a better mentor.”
“I’m sure,” Lexi murmured, taking a languid sip of wine. “Maybe you’d like to go sit with him. He’s probably a better date than me too.”
As her teasing words registered, an embarrassed flush crawled up Byron’s neck, and he groaned. “God, I amsosorry, Lexi. I can’t believe I’ve been sitting here going on and on about my boss. You must think I’m such a loser.”
“Not a loser,” she said with an indulgent smile. “You just have a slight case of hero worship.”
“Slight?”Byron grimaced ruefully.
“It’s understandable.” Lexi paused, then added quietly, “Quentin and I have been friends for a very long time. Believe me, I know what a wonderful, generous guy he is.”
Which is why you’re trying to shut him out of your life, right?
She shook the troubling thought from her mind and smiled gently at Byron. “You don’t have to worry about filling every lull in our conversation. Just relax and be yourself.”
“Okay.” He smiled shyly at her.Such a cutie pie.“I’m really glad you’re here with me, Lexi.”
“Me too.” She ignored a pang of guilt at the reminder that she’d only gone on the date to take her mind off Quentin.
Joke’s on you,her conscience mocked.
As the band struck up another set, Byron grinned teasingly and scooted his chair closer to hers. “I’d better start putting those pointers to good use.”
Lexi arched a brow at him. “Pointers?”
He looked sheepish. “I was so nervous about tonight that I went to an expert for dating advice. Without divulging your name, of course.”
“What expert?” But she needn’t have asked.
“Quentin.”
Lexi sighed. It was going to be alongnight.
Chapter 13
Quentin was still seething with fury the next morning when he stalked past his secretary’s desk.
“Good morning, Mr. Reddick,” she greeted him cheerfully.
“Morning,” he growled, because there was nothing “good” about it. “Has Byron come in yet?”
“Not yet, sir.”
“When he gets here, tell him to come see me.”
“Yes, sir. Would you like some coffee?”
“Not right now, thanks.”
He strode into his plush corner office suite—an upgrade Marcus had insisted upon when Quentin became joint owner last year.
Ignoring the broad expanse of windows that overlooked downtown Atlanta, Quentin dropped heavily into the chair behind his desk, scrubbed his hands over his face and tried to remember how many glasses of whiskey he’d imbibed last night to block out torturous mental images of Lexi and Byron writhing all over her bed. The new bed, which had replaced the one tainted by her ex-husband and his mistresses.
