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“I need to send this back before we get billed,” I say.
Ray’s lip wobbles as he traces the point of a lobster claw. “But it’s so pretty…”
“This isn’t on the company tab,” Lisa announces. As I turn to look at her, I spot Ray steal a shrimp from the corner of my eye.
“Seriously?” I ask him, my eyes narrowing. “You thought I wouldn’t notice?”
“If they take it back they’re just going to throw it away,” he points out, not unreasonably. “That would be an unheavenly waste.”
“Who’s L?” Lisa asks.
I keep my eyes on Ray. “I’ve no idea.”
“The invoice says, ‘I wasn’t sure what you wanted for lunch so I ordered you a bit of everything’. Then there’s an L.”
Ray’s hand creeps out again. I don’t bother to stop him this time. “It’s from a friend,” I manage to rasp out, knowing exactly who L is. What the hell is Liam thinking, sending me all this food?
It’s like a dam has burst. Once everybody realizes I’m not going to be fired for the food order, they’re grabbing at the lids, oohing and aahing at the food laid out on them.
I don’t have time for this. But I’m also confused. Why is Liam sending me lunch?
“Leave me something,” I tell the sports team. “I just need to make a call.” I grab my phone and walk out of the office, the sound of chewing and gobbling filling my ears. When I get out into the hallway it’s thankfully empty so I bring up Liam’s number.
He answers after the first ring.
“Sophie,” he says, and just hearing his voice sends a thrill through me. This isn’t healthy. I’m not a lovesick teenager. I shouldn’t respond like this, I’m in my late thirties.
“You sent me lunch.”
“Was it okay?” he asks. “I need to find out what you like. I thought about ordering pasta but it can be messy to eat in the office.”
“You could have sent me a sandwich like any normal person,” I tell him. “Or not sent me anything at all.” I rub my brow with my fingertips. I think I’m getting a headache.
“But I want to get on your right side,” he says smoothly.
“Why?” I’m genuinely confused.
“Because I need to watch that episode of Grey’s tonight. And I want to watch it with you,” he tells me.
Oh. “Don’t you have a hot date to go to while you’re in New York?” I ask, because I’m a masochist that way.
Liam’s silent for a minute. Then I hear some muffled tones as though he’s talking to somebody. “I’ll be there in a moment,” I hear him say. Then there’s a sound like a door closing.
“Sorry,” he says, “I was supposed to be in a meeting five minutes ago.”
“You’re a busy man,” I say softly. “I’ll let you go.” But I don’t hang up. Yet.
My office door opens and Ray walks out carrying a platter. Yep, a platter. He must have moved all the food around because this one has a variety on it. Shellfish and pastries and some of those vegetables with dips. He winks at me and pops a carrot stick into his mouth before he disappears into the sports office.
“Don’t go anywhere,” Liam says. “We need to get one thing straight. I’m not going on any dates. I’m not seeing anybody else. The only woman I’m interested in is you.” His voice is low and gritty.
My throat constricts. “I thought we talked about this.”
“Yes, we did. And you let me know that you don’t believe in me. So I have some work to do. And I know that some lobster and fruit doesn’t prove anything. But I wanted to let you know I was thinking of you. And make sure you’re thinking of me, too.”
“Liam…”
“You don’t need to say or do anything right now,” he says, as though he can read my mind. Which is good because I’m literally stumped for what to say. “This is about me. I need to prove to you that I’m not the guy you think I am. I need to show you that I want more.”
