Page 13 of Sincerely, Mr. Braden

My heart thunders. I should stop this in its tracks and say no, but not an ounce of me wants to do that. Where’s the harm in enjoying myself with a man I’ve been thinking about for years? Come Tuesday, I’ll go back to my secret assistantship, and he’ll go back to his busy life, none the wiser.

“Let’s just say, I’m not going to stop you.” As I close my lips around the sumptuous lobster he’s offering, heat ignites in his eyes, fueling my resolve to enjoy this weekend.

Chapter Five

Taylor

A waiter brings a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket and two champagne flutes on a small wooden tray, which he sets in the sand. Seth stands to thank him, and I pretend not to notice the cash he slips him. As the man walks away, Seth sits beside me and pours us each a glass.

“To flirting with indulgence,” he says, holding up his glass with a wicked glint in his eyes.

I might be too out of practice to keep up with this man, but I do love a challenge. “To you, for making it easy.” I tap my glass to his, then down half my champagne in an effort to calm my nerves.

He notices and chuckles, which, strangely, helps take the edge off more than the champagne does.

“So, tell me about Taylor’s secret sister,” he says as we start eating. “What do you do for a living? What’s your life like?”

Oh boy. I didn’t think this through. Of course he wants to know more about me. The man never makes a move without overanalyzing it first. On the heels of that thought comes a nerve-racking one. Did he overanalyze me when I was getting ready for dinner? Something tells me he did. My nerves prickle, but since he initiated flirting, I decide to take it as a compliment. I just wish I hadn’t started this whole charade. I hate lying, and I want to get to know Seth better, so I vow to be as honest as I possibly can without blowing my cover.

“My life is not very exciting. I’m a virtual assistant, like Taylor, and I volunteer at a local animal shelter when I can.” I eat a piece of spiced meat, and it melts in my mouth. I use that pause to change the subject. “This is delicious. You have to try it.” I stab another piece of meat and hold it out for him.

“So you were a secret sharer all along,” he says before eating it.

“I’ll never tell,” I tease, and gaze out at the water, hoping I can pull this off as I finish my champagne.

He finishes his champagne, and as he refills our glasses, he says, “It’s interesting that you and Taylor are both VAs. Do you enjoy it?”

“Yes, very much. My clients can be interesting, but that comes with the territory.”

Seth lifts his chin. “‘Interesting’ as in shady characters or ‘interesting’ as in the work is intellectually stimulating?”

“Are those the only two options?” I muse.

“You tell me,” he tosses back.

“I think they can be a lot of things at once. They’re definitely not shady, and they all have quirks, but my favorite client is one of the greatest guys I know.” Greatest is too pat a word to describe Seth. He’s warmer and more wonderful, interesting, and fun than I imagined, but saying all of that would make me sound like I’m lusting after my client. Which I am, but he doesn’t need to know it. “That said, they’re each demanding in their own way, which isn’t a bad thing. I thrive on challenges and would lose my mind if the work wasn’t intellectually stimulating.”

He leans in, his voice low and amused. “Demanding I can relate to.”

“You seem pretty easygoing to me.” I wouldn’t call Seth demanding, just very busy and meticulous, as well he should be. His reputation is on the line with every deal.

“I can be easygoing in my personal life.” He eats a shrimp, his expression turning contemplative. “But the truth is, I have high standards. Probably too high across the board. Personally and professionally.”

“You’re incredibly successful. I would think that, at least professionally, your standards are where they should be.”

“I expect a lot. Ask Taylor. When I get an idea, I want to move on it, and I expect my team to keep up. That means research, analysis, meetings with various financial and legal teams.”

“I’ve read about your business. You have your fingers in many pots, like my clients. I know how much it takes to keep that going while also growing the business. You need to have high standards.”

“Do you find it hard to keep up with your clients?” he asks.

“Not at all. I love the diversity and the fast pace, and supporting their success,” I say honestly. “But I’m not the one doing the analysis or strategic planning or making the decisions to buy businesses or buildings. There are so many facets to being an executive at that level. My clients rely on teams of experts and the analysis of the data they produce. But if one team drops the ball, or if there’s an error in the analysis, it can lead to decisions made on poor data, which can have a domino effect down the line. It’s incredible to me that any one person can handle that kind of pressure.”

He studies me for a long moment, and I wonder if I said too much. Before I can backpedal, he says, “That’s the pressure I thrive on, but I also rely on my gut instincts. They never lead me astray.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, if you rely on your instincts, why do you feel like your standards are too high personally?”

“Because I don’t suffer fools well. It’s rare to find someone who can keep up like you can.”