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"Are you asking me if I do or telling me I don't?"
"I'm stating a fact."
"I might like him."
"But you don't," he says assuredly.
"You don't know that, Nolan."
"I know you like me." He straightens his stance. "River and I are nothing alike, so it stands to reason that you don't like him."
"Am I anything like the woman who wrote on your hand?"
His gaze drops to his left hand. He flips it over to reveal a now bare palm. "Who said it was a woman who wrote on my hand?"
I did. It was an easy assumption to make. An uneven heart was drawn near his thumb. It was a sweet accent to the phrase I LUV U which was scribbled in black ink across the middle of his palm. "A man wrote it?"
"Strike two. You have one last chance before I get to ask you a question."
"You wrote it for someone or maybe to yourself?" I joke.
"If I wrote it I'd take the time to write out each letter. I'm not lazy when it comes to those three words." He studies me, his expression softening. "But no, I limit the self-love to messages written on my bathroom mirror. I try to keep the ego in check in public."
I laugh. "Do you think you're doing a good job with that?"
"Fair." He half-shrugs. "I'd say I'm doing a fair job with it. It's my turn to ask you a question."
My eyes flick over his body. It's now dotted with sweat. I follow the path of his chest, to his neck and finally to his face. His hair has morphed from styled perfection to damp tousled mess. Somehow he looks even more handsome than he did when he first got here. "What's the question?"
"Can I call you Bean too?" His eyes soften as he smiles. "Say yes."
"No." I shake my head quickly. "You can't."
He leans forward until his lips are almost brushing mine. His voice is barely a whisper. The movement of his mouth, so close to my own, drives my pulse to race. "Can I call you my date for tomorrow night?"
I draw in a quiet breath. "I remember something about a good bottle of cabernet and a steak. Is that still on the menu?"
"We can have whatever you want. If you agree to have dinner with me, I'll eat dirt and drink week old coffee. Just tell me it's a go."
"What about my job?" I pause and pull back. "I lost one job because of a man. I don't want to repeat history."
He tips his head. His eyes are pinned to mine. "That man is an idiot. In case you haven't noticed yet, I'm not. "
"I know it's just one date, but I like this job. I want to keep it for now."
"For now?" He studies my face. "You have aspirations beyond Matiz?"
"Of course," I answer confidently. "I'll tighten your security and then I'll chase my dream job."
"What's your dream job, Ellie?"
It feels too personal to share. It's the only job I've wanted since I was a kid. One day I'll be a member of the New York Police Department. I'm determined.
"I might tell you about that on our date if we can come to an agreement about my job security."
He nods. "As of tomorrow morning, you report to Crew. He's your boss. You run everything past him. I have no say in anything related to your position at Matiz."
I bite the corner of my lip. "You'll honor that even if we end up in a place where we're not on speaking terms?"
