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A polite smile, bordering on patronizing, curved her lips. “I’m not that interesting, Mr. Barrick. I’m afraid you’ll be bored to death.”
“I highly doubt that. Dinner with a smart, gorgeous woman? What could possibly be boring about that?”
She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, worrying at her perfectly applied lipstick before she caved with a quiet sigh. “All right. But just dinner, and just this once. I don’t date clients, Mr. Barrick. It’s—”
“Taboo?” he interrupted with an exaggerated wiggle of his eyebrows. “Sexy?”
“Highly inappropriate.”
Grinning, he placed his elbows on the desk and leaned in. “Baby, you’re about to find out that highly inappropriate is my favorite way to do things.”
“I hate to tell you this, Mr. Barrick, but that isn’t exactly a state secret.”
The dry, sarcastic retort had him blinking in surprise before he snorted out a laugh. “See? Gorgeous, smart,andfunny. You just keep adding to the deal here, Ms. Callahan. I don’t see myself getting bored any time soon.”
“If you say so. I have some things to wrap up here and then I’ll meet you downstairs.”
“Works for me. And you can figure out where you’d like to eat, too. I’m up for,” he deliberately let his gaze drift from her face to her spectacular breasts and back up again, “anything.”
Snagging one of her business cards from the display on her desk, he scribbled his number on the back. “Text me when you’re ready and I’ll meet you out front.”
Chapter 2
Katherine
Staring at the scrawled numbers in front of her, Kit tried to make sense of what had just happened.
Austin Barrick, starting shortstop for D.C.’s Major League baseball team, the Washington Hawks, had just asked her out. On a date.
Or maybe not.
Definitely not. Shaking her head at her own ridiculousness, Kit flipped the card over and turned back to her computer. She made a few notes in Austin’s—Mr. Barrick’s—file to follow up on some questions she had for him, then moved on to her next client. But her gaze kept drifting back to the business card.
It couldn’t be a date. Pro athletes dated supermodels and actresses, not overweight financial planners who worked too much and preferred curling up on the couch with a book and a glass of wine to partying downtown.
Definitely not a date.
Picking up the card again, she stared at the number printed on the back in his surprisingly neat handwriting. If not a date, then what? He wanted to discuss his portfolio over dinner? It seemed unlikely, since he hadn’t seemed all that interested in what she’d had to say while they were sitting in her office. He didn’t seem like the type to spend hours discussing how she planned to—what was it he’d said? Turn his piles of cash into bigger piles of cash. Some clients wanted to know every nitty gritty detail of their financial plans. Others were content to throw everything at her and never talk again until their quarterly update. Mr. Barrick struck her as the latter rather than the former.
Which brought her back to square one. Was this a date? Or something else altogether?
What seemed far more likely was she’d text him and he’d never respond. It wasn’t even out of the realm of possibility that this was some elaborate prank and he’d be sitting around with his baseball buddies, talking shit about the dumb, fat bitch who thought she’d had a chance with Austin Barrick.
It certainly wouldn’t be the first time she’d lived through some variation of that scenario.
Ignoring the rolling of her stomach, she pushed away the memories and refocused on the computer screen in front of her. Mr. Barrick had been her last official appointment of the day, but she had at least another hour of work before she’d feel comfortable calling it quits. She’d happily stay longer, but Donna refused to leave until she did, and it wasn’t right to keep her faithful admin tied to the front desk any longer than necessary.
Thankfully, she was able to lose herself in the numbers and figures on her screen for a while. The Garrison account needed some attention. Her bright, irritatingly young millionaire entrepreneur wasn’t seeing the growth she’d promised him, and she couldn’t quite figure out why.
An hour later, she finally resurfaced, satisfied she’d done what she could for now. Raising her arms over her head, she stretched out the tense muscles in her back and her gaze landed on the business card she’d shoved to the side earlier.
There was still absolutely no way this was a date. But if it was a prank, why the hell should she let him think he’d gotten one over on her? Men like him—hot, successful, entitled—needed someone to bring them back down to reality on occasion. And as far as she was concerned, she was just the woman for the job.
She’d snatched up the card and punched the numbers into the phone on her desk before she’d thought better of it. After two rings, her finger was hovering over the End Call button, but before she could press it, a familiar deep voice answered. “Barrick.”
Did he have to sound so sexy? Her mind blanked for a moment before she remembered why she was calling. Straightening her shoulders, she braced for battle. “Mr. Barrick? This is Katherine Callahan.”
“Well, hey there, Ms. Callahan.” Her name was a low purr, and she pressed her thighs together in a vain effort to ignore the sudden ache between them. “Have you decided where you want to eat yet?”
