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The thought of putting hot meat into my mouth while sitting across from his smile at dinner is a new kind of arousal for me too, and I can’t frickin’ wait.
All these other little problems that keep popping up?
I know Xander’s got a handle on it. The man just oozes confidence and control.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Xander
Although it looks like I’ve brushed off my boss, the owner of the chain of hotels I run for him, I’m mindful of everything attached to that.
In the elevator on the way down to the restaurant, I text Kenneth, letting him know in a few words that I’ll call him when I can.
Sometimes it’s just lousy timing, but tonight means more to me than my job or anything else, so yes. Even the mighty Kenneth Condor can wait, damn him.
I’ve got a dinner date with my girl, and I’m looking forward to it like nothing else.
I’m surprised by how quickly the old man replies. Before I even stow my phone back in my breast pocket, I get an answer.
Chloe’s giving me an eager look, relaxed and happy now that we’re finally on an official date.
Things feel normal for her for maybe the first time since we met.
But Condor’s message kinda throws me.
Busy, huh?
We need to talk.
De Laurent’s here with me, and I have something else to discuss.
Golf tomorrow at the club.
Be there at eleven.
It kinda puts a Condor-sized wrench in the works as far as my weekend goes more than anything else.
I’ve been expecting the real Ms. De Laurent to turn up any second, but turn up here. Not turn up with Condor.
Hell, even I don’t know where he is half the time. How the hell did she find him? Unless he had her brought to him.
Most likely scenario, I’m guessing.
It seems impossible to put that to the back of my mind at first.
But feeling Chloe’s hand in mine before the elevator doors open, and then the sounds and smells of a brand new five-star restaurant as we make our way to our reserved table, she is what I have been waiting for.
It’s a little easier to forget about it for the next hour or so.
I can feel every pair of eyes from the staff on us as we’re seated.
On me, to be precise.
And I can only figure it’s from what I told the bellhop, refusing to take Kenneth Condor’s phone call.
They probably think we’re all gonna lose our jobs over that, but I know how much I can get away with. And not taking one of his calls isn’t the end of my career or anyone else’s.
“Everything alright?” Chloe asks, and I really do forget about it as soon as I start focusing on her.
The only thing that really matters.
“Perfect,” I affirm, making her blush as I reach for her hand, ignoring the new stares we get.
“I just wished I’d worn something with sleeves,” Chloe murmurs, shivering slightly.
I signal the waiter and ask him to check the A/C temperature.
“It’s ninety degrees out,” he whines before he thinks twice about exactly who he’s talking to.
“And my guest here is feeling a chill,” I remind him with a stern look.
“I’ll take a look, Mr. Alexander…and sorry. Sorry,” he apologizes, darting off before we both become aware of the murmur from other tables around us.
“Who the hell does that guy think he is?” one voice says.
“I do feel kinda chilly now he mentions it,” someone else observes.
“He must be twice her age…why doesn’t he just buy a sports car like every other middle-aged guy who can’t get it up,” someone else pipes in.
The sounds of their voices travel loud and clear to my ears, but I’ve heard plenty worse from staff, thinking I can’t hear them once I leave a room.
It’s Chloe’s feelings I’m protective of, though.
Scanning the room, I give everyone the same look the waiter just got, which sees all of them returning to their meals without another word.
In a few moments, Chloe remarks that I didn’t have to do that. “I feel better now. Maybe it was just me,” she mumbles, shifting in her seat.
The live string quartet starts up, and the whole mood in the room changes in a second.
Suddenly everyone has something else to look at and talk about.
Another minute passes, and the whole thing’s forgotten.
But damn, if it isn’t getting warm in here…Can’t say anything now.
“You alright now? Not so cold, I mean,” I ask Chloe, who nods eagerly. Her eyes widened, and her mouth is gaping when our steaks arrive.
I’ve noticed the same going out to other tables, and I have to say, I’m impressed.
The waiter knows to hang back while I look the dish over and waits even longer until I’ve taken a bite and cut into the meat. He’s making sure it’s up to the Condor standard.
Doing my job really.
“How is it, Mr. Alexander? Is everything satisfactory?” the waiter asks, genuinely sounding like he values my approval and not just so he can keep his job.
