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He shrugged, and pulled offsheepishwith flair. “It’s never come up before. You’re unique in a lot of ways. Forgive me.”
“Are you going to give up on trying to make the deal?”
“No.”
The honesty was refreshing. I didn’t like his answer, but I wouldn’t have believed him if he said anything else.
“And fair warning in that same vein,” Kingston said. “I’m hoping if you spend time with us, you’ll see what a good idea this partnership is.”
“What you’re proposing isn’t a partnership.” It was pretending to let me stay on in a management position until they didn’t like my feedback. I would only have the power they assigned me, that they could take away just as easily.
“Semantics. But I swear to you, cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye swear to you, sex is not part of that equation. Anything physical is its own separate thing.”
He wasn’t talking past tense. But he was still being honest.
“In that case, I should be up front and say the only reason I’m going with you today is because”—someone’s fucking with my zoning... I wasn’t going to tell him that, in case he decided to use it as leverage—“you’re right that it’s good to make connections.”
Kingston offered his arm. “That’s fair. Shall we?”
My body wanted that contact again. That heat I felt every time he touched me. My heart and mind knew better. I Ignored his arm and fell into step beside him as we walked to the SUV waiting at the curb.
Owen smiled as we drew closer, and offered a cheerful “Morning,” when we were within earshot.
“Morning.” I tried to keep my tone and expression cool, but my smile was as genuine as it was hesitant.
Kingston held open the front passenger door for me.
“I’m fine in the back,” I said.
“Take the seat.” Kingston gestured. “He and I see each other all the time. If you’re up here, it’ll be harder for you to pretend you’re not part of the conversation.”
Called out on an intention I hadn’t vocalized to myself. “Fine. Thank you.”
We settled into our seats and hit the road. This early on a Sunday, there was no traffic, and we were on the freeway heading east in less than ten minutes.
“Are the two of you from Las Vegas originally?” I asked. It was where they opened their first store, and I’d rather lead the conversation toward them then let it drift back to me. If I gave them the right opening, they had the kind of egos that would let them talk for hours about themselves.
“No,” Owen said.
I waited for more. So much for my brilliant plan and observations. It was early, though. I’d come up with something else to draw them out.
Kingston leaned forward, resting one arm on the center console between Owen and me. “Vegas was a twenty-first birthday present from my mother.” Some of his cheer had vanished. This wasn’t the business-voice I heard on the phone, but it wasn’t his standard lightheartedness either. Odd way to sound when talking about family.
My parents were amazingly supportive, but I understood not everyone’s were. I heard the same tone from Anne when she delved into her past.
“Fortunately”—Kingston’s cheer was back, like flipping a switch—“I got to take my best buddy, and we tore up the town.” He slapped Owen lightly on the arm.
“Ah. A fun-filled weekend of strippers, free booze, and high roller suites?” I kept my tone playful.
Owen laughed. It was a throaty joy that danced over me with temptation. It didn’t matter that I barely knew him, I suspected that kind of amusement wasn’t typical for him.
Which was fortunate, given how much I liked it.
“Birthday Tripis a code word for business trip, in this case. I was supposed to...”
When Kingston didn’t finish the thought, I glanced at him to see if I’d missed something. He’d leaned back in his seat, and was sitting with his face just out of my view.
“... find some direction,” he finally said.
