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“Stop overthinking this. It’s going to be fine. I won’t embarrass you in front of your boss, and I’ll make sure your ex knows you aren’t pining for him.”
“He knows I’m not pining for him,” she said, straightening her spine.
“The way you described him, I’m not so sure.”
“He knows because I told him in no uncertain terms what a piece of shit he was after he stole my idea for the campaign.”
“I forgot he stole your campaign idea. Damn, woman, what did you ever see in this man?”
She released a sigh. “Good question. I’m beginning to wonder about that myself, but I’m ready to fight fire with fire. I deserve that promotion as much as Royce does, probably more, and I intend to get it.”
His eyes left the road again, and he noted the determined set of her jaw. “We should probably have some kind of pet name for each other, don’t you think?”
“Like what?”
“Babe, honey, sweetie. Something like that.”
“That’s fine, but I think it’s more important to make sure we have the facts right. Do you remember what I told you about the guests that will be there?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Tell me something about them.”
Slightly annoyed but understanding that she wanted the night to be perfect, Montez decided to humor her. “James is a classic car fanatic, so any conversation about classic cars would be welcomed by him. Your boss, Mark, is a golfer, and his wife used to work for Carolina’s Closet up until five years ago, when she quit to spend more time with their grandchildren. His sister, Gertrude, is the receptionist and has worked at the company for years—mostly to keep busy since her husband is wealthy in his own right. Everyone believes she’s the eyes and ears of the company and feeds information to Mark. She travels every chance she gets and shares her photos when she returns from her trips.”
“Good. Do you remember my sister’s name?”
“Monica. She has one child and is a social worker living in Alabama, where her husband is from.”
“Right. How long have I been working at Carolina’s Closet?”
“Next March will make seven years.”
“Do you—”
“Enough! I’m not going to screw this up, but you probably will if you don’t chill.”
“Okay, okay, but you’re the one who started with yourbabeandsweetietalk. But you’re right, it’s one night.” She shifted in the seat.
“Exactly. We can get through one night, and then hopefully you’ll get your job.”
She rubbed her hands up and down her thighs. “It’s not that simple. There might be other events, and of course, there are the evaluations and a final interview I have to do.”
“You’ll do fine with all of that.”
He wasn’t just saying that. She struck him as capable and knowledgeable. Like women often did, she probably underestimated her own gifts. Instinctively, he took one of her hands in his and squeezed. Her skin was so soft. “Relax.”
Their gazes met in the dark interior of the car, and appreciation filled hers. “Thanks. I can do that.”
He reluctantly released her. “I’ve been meaning to ask what you did to your face last time we saw each other.”
“Um, that’s an odd thing to say. What was wrong with my face?”
Montez laughed. “That came out wrong. There was nothing wrong with your face, but you were… glowing.”
“Oh.” She smiled a little, and he was certain if her skin were lighter there would have been a red tint on her cheeks. “I went to get a facial. They do a good job.”
He nodded. “I noticed.”
