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“Sure, I’ll be right there.”
As he waited he tuned his radio to a station that played hits from the eighties. He had a soft spot for the decade of big hair and power ballads, and often wished he’d been around to enjoy the clubs on Sunset Strip when the music was at its peak. A few minutes passed, then the door of the complex opened and caught his eye.
Watching her walk towards him took his breath away.
A short white jacket sat around her shoulders, above an aqua silk dress that seemed to float around her curves, and glossy white high-heels finished the outfit. She could have been a model stepping off the cover of a woman’s fashion magazine. Climbing from his car, he moved quickly forward to greet her.
“Hello, Zach,” she said with a warm smile.
“You look lovely. That color highlights your eyes,” he said, thinking he’d never noticed how green they were.
Walking her to his gleaming Bentley, he opened the door, and as she leaned over to climb, in he wanted to help her along with a sound slap. The thought sent energy into his cock, but doing his best to ignore it, he closed the door, moved around to the drivers side, and slid behind the wheel.
“Before we leave,” she began, “I have to make something clear.”
“Go ahead.”
“I’m here for one reason, and one reason only.”
“Which is?”
“I want to discuss Kurt Fielding and the offer he made me. I know how busy you are at your office, so I thought it would be easier if we met up after hours.”
Zach couldn’t suppress his grin. Just as he’d predicted she’d produced an excuse to see him. For a moment he considered confronting her with the obvious ploy, but changed his mind.
“Did I say something funny?”
“Emma, that’s about the cruelest thing I’ve ever had said to me on a first date.”
“What is?”
“You’re only having dinner with me to talk about an offer of employment.”
“I find it hard to believe you’ve never been out with someone looking for advice.”
“Be careful,” he said, shooting her a look. “You should know not to push your luck with me.”
Though she abruptly turned her head towards the windshield, it wasn’t before he saw the red blush cross her cheeks.
“Where are we going?” she asked as he rolled away from the curb.
“The Bel Air Hotel. I hope that meets with your approval.”
“I love the Bel Air. Dad used to take me there for my birthday when I was in high school. Me and my friends would dress up and he’d hire a limo for the night. We always had the best time.”
“My friends and I,” he corrected her. “If you’re going to be dealing with writers and producers it might be advisable to watch things like that. Assuming you want to be taken seriously.”
“Whatever,” she said flippantly, “but I really am happy we’re going there.”
“If I’d known we’d be talking about Kurt Fielding I would have chosen somewhere else. A place like, I don’t know, Norm’s Deli. Maybe I should call and cancel my reservation.”
“I’m not dressed for Norm’s Deli,” she exclaimed hastily.
“Neither am I, and that’s the problem. We have to go to the Bel Air,” he declared, then chuckled.
She suddenly laughed out loud, and he felt the prickling tension between them melting away. As he made his way through Santa Monica and cut across to Sunset Blvd, their conversation turned to recent movies, and he was impressed by her insight.
“You should consider becoming a movie critic. Your comments are right on the money.”
