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“You have twenty-four hours to get me a draft, Kimber. Do you hear me? Twenty-four hours.”
The line went dead. Shit!
Throwing her phone onto the bed, she fell backwards on the mattress and ran her hands over her face. Pel was playing games. Very dangerous games. He was endangering her job with his lies. Struggling to control her anger, she finally grabbed her phone and held it above her face. She knew what she had to do.
Hi, Mr. Cappa. I’m sorry about the misunderstanding this morning. I thought I’d mentioned that I’d be leaving at daylight. Would you care to meet in town tonight for dinner and we can talk?
Gross. This was the last damn thing she wanted to do. He’d probably insist that she come back to the castle. Her stomach churned. She felt like she was going to throw up.
Covering her mouth with a hand, she hurried to the bathroom sink and hunched over it. Her body heaved, but nothing came out. God, her nerves were really getting to her.
The chime of her phone made her heave again. Pressing a cold washcloth to her lips, she grabbed her phone from the bed. It was Pel.
Dinner sounds good. Seven. Old Roy’s On the Water. Make reservations.
Relieved that he hadn’t insisted she come to him, she internet searched the restaurant and made an online reservation. And then she texted Ethan.
I’m sorry. Something came up tonight. Rain check?
Her insides churned as she waited for his reply, and by the time she raced back to the bathroom, he hadn’t. He was probably busy. She hoped that was it. He wouldn’t just… ditch her after last night, would he? Groaning, she splashed cool water on her face. It didn’t matter if he did. They weren’t having a relationship.
This was not a long-term thing.
But as another wave of nausea forced her back to the sink, she had the passing thought that it mattered.
It mattered a lot.
Chapter Fourteen
Kimber
Kimberarrivedattherestaurant early and ordered a basket of bread and ice water for her enraged stomach.
Her nerves were in overdrive since Pell confirmed the dinner. While she wished he’d declined, it was in the best interest of her career to make one last attempt to get this story. What recourse did she have if he refused to cooperate again? He’d already shown his true colors when he lied about her to Jim.
The outline for the back-up article she’d created was good, and the more she thought about writing the story, the more excited she became. Pel’s clean air initiative was a joke. Dingle was already doing things to help the environment, and it deserved recognition, unlike Pel who was doing nothing worthwhile.
Nibbling on a crunchy bread stick, she observed the other diners. The restaurant was a cozy, old stone building overlooking an impressive series of gardens. Intimate overhead lighting and candles on the tables created a warm atmosphere. The waitstaff was quiet and unobtrusive, taking care of guests without hovering. It was the perfect date spot and would be a hell of a lot more enjoyable if she were having dinner with anyone other than Pel.
Maybe she could bring Ethan here before she left Ireland. He’d finally texted back that he understood about needing to break their plans for tonight and he would see her another time. Neither of them texted back with plans, though.
She’d wanted to but being berated by her boss had been a kick in the tits. Her focus had to be on Pel and the article. Ethan would have to wait. Maybe permanently. She’d be heading back to Florida, and he’d go… somewhere. She had no idea what he was doing with his life. Their mutual attraction was so fast and all-consuming that they hadn’t taken the time to get to know one another. Wasn’t that how flings worked? All sex, nothing too personal? No big plans, no maybes while they enjoyed the moment.
She knew nothing about Ethan Sands except that he was attractive, nice, and great in bed. He could live in his mother’s basement driving Uber Eats and selling foot pics online for all she knew.
Almost laughing at the mental image, she realized how ridiculous that was. Hopefully.
A man walked past her table. Snapping to attention, she thought it was Pel, but quickly realized her mistake. The man glanced at her with a feeble attempt at a smile. There was something familiar about him. She tried to place where she’d seen him before. He disappeared around the corner and for a brief, confused second, she wondered if she’d seen him at all.
“Kimber. How nice to see you.”
Pel’s bored greeting made her stomach turn. He approached the table in a half unbuttoned, blue satin shirt tucked into the waist of tight designer jeans. Ridiculous oversized black glasses only emphasized the thin mustache that clung for dear life on his upper lip.
Clearing her throat, she smiled tightly and mentally reminded herself to be polite and professional. “Thank you for meeting me.”Even though you called my boss and lied about me, asshole.
Smoothing the front of his shirt, he pulled his chair from the table and sat with legs spread wide. “Yeah, no problem. I figured you’d want to make amends. Just so we’re clear, this dinner is on your dime.”
“Of course.”
