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That deserves a pat on the back, not some kind of reverie.
“Rachel.”
Blake is suddenly at my side. I was lost in thought and didn’t notice him coming.
“Blake,” I say and turn to him. His eyes are a deep gray, and his face is expressionless. What beneath his stony exterior? He seemed cold and grumpy the last time I worked with him, too. But then, at the event, he wasdifferent.I can’t put my finger on it.
“Thank you for coming to see me.”
“Of course,” I say. “I thought your wife might want to join us.”
Blake looks confused. “My what?”
“Emma?” I ask.
Blake’s eyes widen before he shakes his head.
“Emma isn’t my wife. She’s my personal trainer.”
It’s my turn to be confused. “Your what?”
He nods. “We have a working relationship, nothing more. And if she could have her way, I would live in sweatpants and t-shirts.” Humor tugs at one corner of his mouth, failing to bring a smile into full view. “But that’s not my style, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. Shall we?” He gestures with his arm toward the seating hostess, who looks eager to serve us.
I’m still reeling with the news I just found out. My whole image of him hinged on the fact that he’s married and unavailable. It’s the reason I agreed to come here—he’s not available for me to fall for.
But now, he’s not only the most magnetic man I’ve met, but he’s also single.
Shit.
“Mr. Ford,” she breathes. “Will you be eating here tonight? We don’t have a table right now, but if you—”
“We’ll go to the bar, Sarah, thank you.”
They know each other, clearly. But Blake isn’t the kind of person anyone forgets and by the looks of it, he’s a regular.
Blake leads me into the restaurant, through the dining room and toward the bar. I sit down and glance around. It’s a nice place, luxuriously decorated, and the dim lighting makes everything seem so intimate.
And Blake is single.
“Wine?” Blake asks.
I nod. I like wine. Is it just a calculated guess, or is he really as clued up on the people he does business with as they say?
Blake orders Chenin Blanc.
“That happens to be my favorite,” I say.
“A lady of good taste,” he says.
When he calls me a lady, I blush.
“So,” I say, clearing my throat. “You want to redo your entire wardrobe?” Now that I know he’s not in a relationship, it makes a little more sense. I figured Emma would be the one in charge of that, but she’s apparently just in charge of the fact that Blake Ford has muscles for days, a body that makes me go weak at the knees just thinking about how his suits hug his shoulders and hang off his hips like he’s doing them a favor.
I shake off the thoughts.
“I think it’s time for a new look. I tend to get very… settled in my ways.”
I nod.
