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Nicolette clutched her steno pad from the meeting close to her chest, obviously nervous.
Gibson tried to smooth his scowl into an expression more appropriate for work. “Sure, Nicolette. What can I help you with?”
Her gaze flicked down his body for a second then back up. Color stained her cheeks, and she pushed a long lock of blond hair away from her face. “I just wanted to tell you how much I’m learning from you. The launch you put together for the Victory Park location looks amazing. I never would’ve thought of half those things. And I can’t believe you got Wanderlust to play for the grand opening. That’s going to be such a draw.”
He smirked. “Don’t be too impressed by that last part. I have a good friend with connections.”
“Yeah, but connections are half this business,” she said, her voice earnest. “You’ve obviously built a serious network at a young age.”
“I’m not that young.” He couldn’t keep the wryness out of his tone.
She rolled her eyes. “Right. I just want to like drop to my knees and beg you to teach me everything you know.”
He lifted a brow at her wording.
She cringed. “Wait, that came out wrong. Shit.” She grimaced again, her face going pink. “Yeah, and cursing now. Sorry. You make me hella nervous. Can I start over? I’ll leave out the begging and kneeling parts.”
He smiled, hoping it came across as kind. “Was there a question involved in all this, Nicolette?”
“Oh, yes, right. God, I’m so not good at this.” She straightened her shoulders. “I was just wondering if maybe sometime after work we could go, like, have a drink or something. I’d love to pick your brain. And, you know . . . get to know you better.”
Oh. Oh. He’d gotten a glimmer before, but now he got the full picture. Nicolette licked her lips, her skin fully flushed now, and her nipples were hard points below her blouse. She wanted to have a drink. She liked him.
Well, fuck.
So much of what she was sending his way was what he always projected he wanted. Classically beautiful. Sweet. Ready to sit at his feet and tell him how great he was.
Amount of interest mustered: zero.
“Nic—”
She shook her head and sighed. “Ugh, God. Sorry. I can hear it in your voice. Ignore me. I’m terrible at this. I think being on that show broke my radar for knowing if a guy’s interested or not. You were looking at me in the meeting, and I thought . . .”
Had he looked at her? He’d caught himself lost in thought a few times. Maybe he’d stared without realizing it. “Uh . . .”
“Yeah. And I apparently read way too much into that. Now I get to be super awkward around one of the executives I work with.” She gave him an exaggerated thumbs-up. “Super!”
A pang of sympathy went through him, and he raised a palm, already liking this woman more and more. Just not liking her like that. “Seriously, don’t sweat it. No awkwardness necessary. I’m flattered. And I’d be happy to have a business lunch one day and we can talk networking. But as for anything else, I’m pretty sure I’m not your type.”
“Gay?”
He laughed. “No.”
She cocked her head. “So smart, confident businessman is not my type?”
He stood, saw himself reflected in her eyes, how she viewed him. He was the guy in charge, the one who made things happen at work, the one to look up to. The alpha dog in his department. He’d honed that image.
It was the truth.
And a bald-faced lie.
All at the same time.
Nicolette had bought the image wholesale. It’s what he thought he’d always wanted. She was the kind of woman he’d dated all his life, the kind he’d played with at the Ranch. But staring down at this perfectly lovely woman drove it home that this would never make him happy. At work, yes. At home, no.
“It’s not that.”
She looked toward the door and then lowered her voice. “Is it the kinky thing? Because . . . to be honest, it’s one of the reasons I’m interested.”
