Page 16 of One Midnight Kiss

I forced a smile to try and hide my discomfort. Thankfully, the conversation shifted back to Hanna. Fox gleefully talked about the new tech. So far, the conversation had avoided business. I felt a little strange mixing both sides of my life like this. With clients, I tried to maintain my professional demeanor. With friends, I preferred to loosen up and relax. Tonight, I was torn between them.

I kept my mouth shut and chose to just listen to him talk to Wilder about the tech. It was all information I could use for my pitch. Hearing his legitimate excitement made me see his product more favorably. It might not be dead in the water after all.

Christa lifted her glass and looked directly at her brother-in-law. “You know you need more than just a brilliant marketing strategy to get Hanna to take off.”

Fox shot her a look. His jaw clenched in what looked like a silent reprimand I couldn’t quite decipher.

“What exactly do you need, Fox?” I asked.

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s what you’re working on,” he said before focusing on his meal again.

I didn’t have a chance to respond because Christa and Wilder were already clearing the plates, seamlessly shifting the conversation to lighter topics. I smiled and nodded along, but my mind was elsewhere, replaying the sharp look Fox had given Christa. It was like I was missing a piece of a puzzle. I dismissed it, figuring if it mattered, I would find out eventually.

The evening wound down with coffee and dessert. I checked my watch and saw it was late.

“Thank you for dinner,” I told Christa, giving Frank and Harriet a few cautious pats on their heads. “It was wonderful.” I hugged Wilder. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“We’ll do it again soon,” Christa promised, pulling me in for another hug.

I managed a smile. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Fox was saying his goodbyes at the door too. As I slipped on my coat, our movements synchronized without meaning to do so. Then he held the door open, letting me step out first.

“You must be a cat person,” he said quietly.

I turned, caught off guard. “What?”

“Cats,” he repeated. “Quiet, independent, keep to themselves. Reminds me of someone.”

The comment made me bristle. “And what’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing,” he said, that smirk back on his stupid handsome face. “I like cats.”

The way he looked at me made something flutter in my chest. I wasn’t sure if it was irritation or something else entirely. I narrowed my eyes at him. “Goodnight, Fox.”

He gave a mock salute, stepping back. “Goodnight, Natalia.”

I got into my car and shut the door, but I didn’t drive away immediately. Instead, I watched as he walked to his own car, feeling a strange, unsettled sensation take root inside me. It wasn’t attraction. It couldn’t be. It was familiarity.

Why? Why did I feel like I knew him?

For a brief moment, the memory of my beautiful night in Paris flashed through my mind. A man with a smirk just like that, a voice smooth and teasing. But I pushed it away. There was no way. The man I’d met in Paris had a French accent. Didn’t he? Or maybe it was the fact I was surrounded by French accents that I assumed he did.

I shook my head and started the engine.

As I drove away, I couldn’t help but wonder what exactly I’d gotten myself into. And why it felt like I’d just stepped into the middle of a game I didn’t know I was playing.