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“Interviewing?”
“I’m a journalist. Which you would know, if you hadn’t been so determined to have the last word upon exiting the cab that day.”
She took a small sip of her drink. “Explain.”
He gave her a slow smile. “Well, see, had you turned around, you would have seen me climbing out of the cab behind you. I work at Ravenna headquarters too.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I want my twenty bucks back.”
Jake gave a small laugh. “How about I use it to buy your drink?” Shit. Where had that come from?
“This is the Lambs Club. I’m not sure twenty bucks will cover the drink, but have at it.”
Jake looked at her curiously. “On second thought, maybe you should let your date pay. Guys like that sort of thing. Particularly when the woman’s wearing a dress that’s too tigh
t to allow for underwear.”
“I believe it’s too soon to give out details on panty status,” she said, running a finger along the stem of her glass. “You work at Oxford, yes?”
“I do,” he said, unsurprised by her assessment. “And you work at Swank.”
She lifted one eyebrow. “Do I?”
Jake’s hand faltered as he lifted his drink to his lips. Didn’t she?
“There are about twenty magazines under the Ravenna brand,” she said. “What made you assume I was with the snotty interior design one?”
“Uh …”
“Care to make another guess?” she said, glancing at him over the rim of her cocktail. “Maybe another female-targeted magazine that I could possibly work for?”
Oh shit.
Jake gave a last panicked glance around the bar. No newly arrived female. Just her.
“You’re a Stiletto woman.” The woman.
“Grace Brighton,” she said, rotating her bar stool to face him completely as she extended her hand. “A pleasure.”
“Such a pleasure,” he grumbled, atypically foolish and off balance. Why had it not occurred to him what was going on when she’d walked into the bar?
He wasn’t usually so dense.
Nor was he often so intrigued.
She gave him a saucy little wink. “Well, this should make a nice start for our article.”
It took his brain a second to catch up. Damn. Too late, he realized that the stupid article had been the last thing on his mind ever since she walked in the door.
He’d been thinking about her, and her legs, and that damned dress. Taking the damned dress off her …
Pull it together, Malone. It was show time.
Chapter Five
It was going even better than she’d imagined.
The dress had been genius. Grace had initially determined to avoid black since she had about a dozen LBDs in her closet already, but in the end, she’d gone with Riley’s judgment.
