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Jordan
“What about you?” Cat asked as she leaned over her cocktail, sucking the straw in between her plump, glossy lips.
It took me a moment to snap to and realize what she was asking. Why did her admitting to having a fiance feel like someone punched me in the chest?
“Me? Oh…” I shook off the blow. “Nothing serious.”
“Then you know the dating game well,” she decided. “Perfect. Between the two of us…I’m confident we can conquer a dating app.”
A contagious smile spread across his mouth, then my own. I found myself getting sucked into her gaze for a moment. She had this self-assured, wild look in her eyes that made me believe even more than I did before that we could take on this new venture without a hitch.
“Mr. Ashford?” A busty waitress appeared behind us with two menus in hand. “Your table is ready. Follow me.”
I hated to be sucked out of Cat’s gaze, but the moment we sat down—it picked up all over again without missing a beat. We ordered another round of drinks and talked over the menu.
“The steak is good here,” she told me. “But I also recommend the veal.”
“Damn, woman,” I chuckled. “I know we’ve already said it—but you are your father’s daughter for sure. You eat like a middle-aged businessman. I expected you to order a salad, like most women do…no offense.”
She raised a brow. “I inherited my mother’s good genes and metabolism. Besides…I work out like a twenty-year old gym rat.”
“I bet you do,” I teased, finding it hard not to fantasize about her glowing tan skin beading with sweat, stretching over her fit muscles. My eyes drifted to the hint of cleavage poking out over her tight blouse and I could vividly picture drops of perspiration dripping down between her breasts…inviting me to follow them. Of course, going to the gym wasn’t the only thing that could make her sweat like that.
Thankfully, Cat had already turned her attention back to the menu—so she couldn’t catch me staring at all the places I shouldn’t have been looking at.
I was having a hard time keeping my libido in check around this grown version of Cat with all of her charms. I couldn’t help but want her, despite the suicidal nature of that desire. There were a million reasons not to. First, there was her dad, who was my business partner going on over ten years. He’d kill me if he saw the way I was looking at her, or if he knew the kinds of things I was thinking about her.
Then there was this jerk fiance of hers named Drew. Financial Analyst, psh. Everyone knew they were bad in bed. No wonder he put a ring on her. She was probably way out of his league and he knew he had to call dibs before she had a chance to realize that.
“So, I see no reason not to dive in head first with Heartstring,” she announced after we ordered our food. “Given their history, reputation, and numbers…It’s a low risk investment of our time and money. Our only challenge is to surpass the success Lucas and Jack built up, and then sell it off for at least double of what we’re buying it for…five or ten years down the road.”
“Five?” I questioned. “That’s ambitious.”
“But not impossible,” she grinned.
“No, in theory…not impossible,” I nodded, thinking it over. “But we would be on our own. Your father wouldn’t have much to offer beyond a little advice here and there. And of course his name on the whole thing paves the way for us.”
“I don’t know what my father has told you about me, but I’m a shark.” She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms, a maiden of steel. “There’s no doubt in anyone’s mind about what I can accomplish once I have my first corporation under my belt. I just need it all to play out as proof. And from what I’ve grown up hearing about you…You’re no different. We’re kindred spirits. You know, most companies are lucky to get one big tycoon like us. Heartstring is getting two—three if you count my father.”
“Jack and Lucas hold their own,” I noted.
“Which is what got them to where they are…along with the other Meadows siblings. I have no doubt we’d assemble a forceful team of our own to back us up.”
God, there was something so sexy about talking business with her. In my sex life, I never shit where I eat. I didn’t touch women I worked with, and I prefered to keep the two separate. I had no idea that batting ideas and aspirations back and forth with a woman over dinner could give me such a rush. My cock was already twitching in my suit pants—struggling not to react to the sexual thrill I was getting from the combination of sex appeal and ambitious work drive all wrapped up in one delicious little package…which was so very much off-limits.
The time slipped away as we got lost in our talk about the big new deal—which we were both completely sold on. At some point, the conversation drifted from business to more casual things.
“You were there the year my father dressed as Santa and nearly caught his beard on fire on a cinnamon candle because he had too much scotch, right?” She laughed, sipping her third cocktail and swirling her fork through her half-eaten creme brulee.
“He was still crying out ‘ho ho ho!’ even as he was rushing to put it out,” I laughed at the memory of one of the infamous annual Whitaker family Christmas parties.
“And Mom!” she squealed, dabbing tears away from her eyes with her napkin. “Swatting his ass with a blanket to try and help!”
I blew out a big breath to try and regain myself from laughing so hard. “It’s easy to forget sometimes…that you were there for all of that.”
“I was invisible to you,” she smirked.
“You were fifteen,” I grumbled, tilting my glass in the air. I was almost bitterly resentful over just how not fifteen she was now.
