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“It’s still early days, but once I have a few backers things will progress faster. My boss won’t be swayed easily, but I also don’t give up easily.”
“I like that you’re so determined.”
I took pride in my projects, and for me, there was no greater compliment than when someone praised my work.
Will wrapped his arms around my shoulders, kissing my temple. He chuckled, and I thought I could stay in his arms forever. I played with his right hand and felt the calluses on his fingers. I knew his work could get rough sometimes. I could ask, but I didn’t think he liked to talk about it, so I just followed my instinct and kissed each pad.
Will stilled. “What are you doing?”
“Kissing,” I explained, without stopping. I lavished each finger with attention, and when I reached his thumb, Will... growled. There was no other way to explain that sound.
“Woman, if you don’t stop, we’ll get that citation.”
Well, damn if that didn’t sound like a good idea. But I stopped and laughed when I felt Will’s breath of relief against my cheek. We stayed for another hour, chatting about everything and nothing, and then we made our way back down. The closer we got to the bottom, the more crowded it became. Because everyone seemed to come down after sunset, the group waiting in line to retrieve their possessions from the lockers was rather large. I glanced at Will from time to time, and I could tell that he was making a concerted effort not to switch on the vigilante mode. I felt bad for asking it of him, but it had made me uncomfortable.
The ride back to my apartment was pure adrenaline. I enjoyed it even more than the lunch ride because the sun wasn’t burning anymore. Will walked me to my front door again.
“I loved the trail,” I commented.
“Me too. I wasn’t expecting so many people. I like it more when it’s not crowded, but I’d choose it over the ocean any day.”
“Yep, can definitely confirm you’re a mountain man and all.”
“What exactly are you implying? That I have no manners?”
Hmmm... the man had asked me not to push his buttons in public, but could I really pass up this opportunity?
“You had your hand up my dress during the wedding. If that ain’t lack of manners, I don’t know what is.”
“It was required. And better me than anyone else.” Will smiled smugly, and before I knew it, his mouth came down on mine. Holy shit, the man was kissing me good. He went all in, tongue and all until I was breathy and turned on.
I was in a daze when he pulled away, resting his cheek against mine.
“I have to go. I have an early start tomorrow,” he said.
I nodded, still dazed from the kiss as he left. Then, as I turned to unlock my door, I remembered how Will had kissed me against it last night... and realized he hadn’t even hinted at coming inside, and it wasn’t that late. Was the fact that a man didn’t want to come inside still general code for him not being that into you? Had today been disappointing for him? Except for that weird moment when I’d laid out my first rule, we’d had fun. I’d thought so at least. But now pushy, cocky Will Connor hadn’t made any sort of move to convince me to invite him inside. Even though he had kissed me as if he’d wanted to make my clothes disappear into a puff of smoke.
Chapter Twelve
Paige
Monday started off with a bang. I went to the same coffee shop in Venice Beach. I could see it becoming my go-to place for working. I intended to finish a few more pitches. I had a great feeling about the day, even wondered why people hated Mondays so much. Then I checked my inbox, and immediately wished I could move forward in time to five o’clock so I could have a cocktail without feeling guilty.
Ms. Lamonica,
We regretfully inform you that we won’t be able to support your project. It is not a good fit for our company, but we wish you the best in your endeavor.
Best,
Kennedy Fellows, on behalf of Christian Lackeroy
What the hell? I stared at my laptop, going through every phase of rage at the same time, it seemed. I was used to people changing their minds, of course. Some were too ashamed to turn me down during a meeting, so they sent an e-mail afterward. Others thought it might be good PR, but then crunched numbers and realized they couldn’t afford the donation. But Lackeroy had seemed genuinely interested.
I sank lower in my chair, pressing my palms against my temples, breathing in and out. Had he just been interested in getting in my pants? Was that it? I refused to believe it. I wasn’t some naive twenty-year-old; I’d done this job for close to eight years. I knew interest when I saw it, and Lackeroy had been ready to attach his name to the project. I’d banked on it, and was even going to use his company as an example in other pitches. Usually when there was one big donor on board, it was easier to nab the next ones. So, instead of letting it go, I called his number.
“Hello, Paige.” I’d expected him to get his secretary, so I was thrown upon hearing his voice.
“Christian. Hi! Thank you for taking my call. I’ll get straight to it. I received an e-mail from your secretary, saying you can’t support the project. Forgive me if I’m too frank, but you seemed completely on board during our meeting.”
