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One of many.
Finally, he wiped his hands and sat back. “She asked if I was single.”
“Straight out? Ballsy for a client.”
“No, she tried to be smooth about it. Said something like ‘I heard architects work long hours, I bet your wife doesn’t like that.’”
Mia laughed, and the sound washed over him. His chest expanded several inches every time she laughed.
“What did you say?” she asked.
Noah rubbed the back of his neck. “You know what a terrible liar I am.”
“You said you didn’t have a wife.”
He nodded.
“Then what?”
“It was almost five by the time we finished up. She asked if I wanted to get a drink.”
Mia smacked his arm. “You should have gone!”
He stared at her. “I had plans.”
“What, with these chicken wings? Plans with me don’t count.”
His frown deepened. “Yes they do.”
“No they don’t. And stop frowning like that. You’re gonna have the worst wrinkles when you’re old.” She took a sip of her beer and faced the television. “Surely you know you can always cancel with me if you have the chance to go on a date.”
He didn’t dignify that with a response.
Like a dog with a bone, she wouldn’t let it go. “You should say yes next time.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not going out with some stranger. And I’m not dating a client.”
“Why not?” she said again. “People do it all the time. The stranger thing, I mean. Aren’t we all strangers these days?” She pointedly glanced at her cell phone. “It sort of feels that way, sometimes.”
He couldn’t help but let his gaze rest on her familiar face. “We’re not strangers.”
“No, but you’re not gonna dateme.”
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Noah’s stomach tightened. He thought about that night back in college—and the split second when he thought they might become more than friends.
Her face paled, and he’d bet she was thinking about the same thing. “Anyway, all I’m saying is you can’t keep turning women down. You’re hot and you’re sweet, and women adore you. But eventually they’ll stop asking. I’ve never understood what you’re waiting for.”
Over the years he’d turned deflection into an art form. He didn’t want to answer that, but neither would she. “What areyouwaiting for?”
She frowned. “That’s different. I’m not being picky, I just refuse to burden someone with my situation.”
“A one-hour drug infusion every week isn’t ‘a situation.’”
“You know that’s not all it is.”
