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“I’m still stuck at the office. Is there a problem?”
“Why are you still at the office?” He glanced at his watch, wondering how he’d missed that it was six o’clock, well past his usual knock-off time.
“Surely this doesn’t come as a surprise to you, but I had to get caught up on all the order forms after a full day of filming design reveals.”
“Shit. They’ve already seen your plans?”
“Yes, and they got final approval, too. You’re starting to scare me, Adrian. What’s wrong?”
“We should get dinner.”
There was a pause on the line. Adrian tried to figure out why his brain wasn’t putting the right words in the right order… He’d been careful to keep his longing concealed at work, and they hadn’t had much time to be together outside of work because of the crazy prep for the TV show on top of their full client load. His filter was clearly slipping under the strain.
“The truce is still on. We just need to talk with the plans in front of us. I haven’t eaten yet, and I assume you haven’t either if you’re still there. Let’s meet in San Jose at Vino Vino in half an hour? Does that give you enough time to wrap up?”
“No, I was planning to stay late tonight. But as you say, I need to eat. I’ll meet you and come back.”
“See you soon.”
Why on earth had he named a date restaurant? He knew she preferred wine to beer, but she wasn’t even going to be able to enjoy herself if she had to go back to work.Idiot.His stubborn subconscious was leading him astray, and he couldn’t afford to follow. This was a work dinner. He had bad news. This was NOT a date.
His pep talk worked through the drive, into the restaurant. He chose a larger brushed aluminum high-top inside. No intimate table for two on the fairy-lit patio. He set the tube of prints in the middle of the table. All business. Up to the moment she walked in the door, he believed he could keep their precious truce. Then, all hope was lost.
She’d done something different with her makeup, likely for the filming, but her usually beautiful face was stunning. The teal sweater made her eyes glow a brilliant blue, and sweet Jesus, it didn’t hide a single curve. The pencil skirt was new, too. He knew she’d never worn it before. He’d have remembered. And heels. She never wore high heels, but tonight she was, and as she made her way across the room to him her hips swayed and swung in the tight skirt, hypnotizing him. With her hair twisted up into a bun, and her glasses pushed up on her head, she was his librarian fantasy in the very tempting flesh.
She walked in as if she hadn’t just stolen all the air from the room. She was speaking, and he could barely drag in a breath. He could hear her voice, but the words weren’t making any sense. She stepped too close, and his brain slammed to a halt and his hands reached for her of their own accord. With a quick jog step and some heavy side-eye, Sofia avoided his hug and put a table between them. He still hadn’t managed to say a word.
“Hello?” She waved a hand in front of his face to break the trance. “What’s the matter with you?”
“You look different.”
It was as close as he could come to the truth and maintain their truce. He was pretty sure that telling her she was a walking wet dream would cross her invisible line in the sand. And the discussion they needed to have was difficult enough without bringing his sexual tension into it. But when she licked her lips and rubbed them together self-consciously, his mind helpfully supplied the memory of their soft and supple texture. He could swear he smelled chocolate.
“Ugh. It’s all the stage makeup. I feel like I’m wearing a mask. So what’s so bad we had to talk in person?”
She grinned playfully at him, and Adrian struggled to remember what he needed to say.Work.It was something about work…but it was bad news, and he didn’t want to chase away her smile so quickly. Thankfully, the waiter came at that moment and interrupted for their order, giving him a few precious minutes to wrangle his brain cells and get his priorities in order. They agreed to share a flight of local red wines. She ordered the garden salad and the burrata, and he settled on the chicken pesto panini and the bold truth.
“Your plan is not going to work.”
There, he’d said it. Like tearing off a Band-Aid, sometimes it was best to say it fast, even if he did come off sounding like an ass.
“My design is great. It got approved by the homeowners and the network’s design consultants.”
“It didn’t get approved by me.”
“I wasn’t aware I needed your approval.” Her tone went ice cold, and her walls came up.
He couldn’t blame her for being pissed off, but he had to get it all out. He laid the plans on the table between them. “There are structural concerns. We need to replace all the pipes with copper. I’m shocked the galvanized is still holding. That means kitchen and both bathrooms. Easy enough to do while we have the walls opened up, but copper is expensive.”
“How expensive?”
“Ten thousand dollars expensive.”
“Do we have to use copper?”
“It’s the better choice, but we could also go with PEX flexible plastic piping. That would bring it down to five, but it’s not as reliable as the copper long term. But that’s not the only hurdle. I found Romex wiring that had been chewed by rodents in the attic. I think we need to rewire with BX to make it safer for the Shahs down the line.” He watched her absorbing his words like individual punches to the gut. He hated hurting her.Band-Aids. All at once.“And then there’s your wall.”
“My wall?”
