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"Thanks. I know I do. In everything except men." I hope that wasn't an insult.
She laughs at her own joke and finishes slipping her shoes on. Standing with a little jump that makes her chest bounce, my eyes are back on her and my mind is straight in the gutter.
"Let's get going then," I say, "I'm about to eat that throw pillow I'm so hungry."
"Ok, I'm not quite ready to meet Hangry Hudson if normal Hudson is already such a grumpy old man." She laughs at her own joke again. Lighthearted and teasing, yet I still feel the need to defend myself. I bite my tongue and hold back. I don't think I'm that old, or grumpy.
"I desperately need a glass of wine after the day I've had at the office." She chats as she ushers me out of the door and locks it behind us.
* * *
The walk to the restaurant is interrupted by a phone call.
"I'm so sorry Hudson, I actually really need to take this, it's work. I have to do damage control." She is polite about having to take the call.
If there is anything I understand it is that work sometimes spills over where you didn't want it to, so I nod for her to take the call.
"Mr. Radnor. I'm so glad you could call me back. Yes, I am aware we are past the deadline; our writer had a minor incident yesterday and we just need a day or two extension. I am sorry I would definitely have let you know sooner had it not been something out of my control." Her 'work' voice is quite sexy.
She is quiet for a moment listening to her client's reply. She nods and paces up and down a little along the road where we have stopped. I admire how professional and calm she is on the call.
"Yes, I understand your frustration that is why I have let my accountant know not to charge you for any section of the book that goes beyond the deadline. You are a valued client and I know this deadline was set in stone."
She is smiling now. Obviously, she has managed to calm the client down as the tone of the voice on the other line has settled somewhat.
"Thank you very much, Mr. Radnor. I appreciate that. Yes, tomorrow evening. I can come to you." She is nothing but professional, but as I hear her informing another man that she will be visiting him tomorrow evening I am struck by a bolt of jealousy.
I realize I do not want her seeing other men.
How ridiculous of me. This man is a client. Yet I know how men think and even clients would view such a beautiful woman as a target for their desires.
I shake the thought from my mind. I am being pathetic. She is a friend. Barely a friend at that. Frenemies. Her personal life has nothing to do with me. Yet I cannot shake the curiosity now about whether or not she has a boyfriend or another man in her life.
And why does that idea grate me so much?
Gianna finishes the call with her client. "I am so sorry about that. My business is relatively new in the sense of established businesses so when things go wrong, I have to sort them out no matter the time of day." She puts her phone back in her purse.
"It's your business? Or do you run it?" I'm curious about what she does.
She looks a little offended. "I would not have said my business if it belonged to someone else." She is definitely offended.
Clearly, she takes pride in her work. "Sorry, I didn't mean to snap like that, like I said it has been a long day at work today. Yes. It's my business. I started it from scratch. I didn't have any big family empires to take over, so I had to work from the ground up. Starting with nothing." She is a success all on her own, and that takes guts and hard work. I look at her with admiration.
"Having family empires to take over isn't always all it is cut out to be, Gianna." I would rather do almost anything else.
She realizes she has mildly insulted me and tilts her head to the side briefly as a way of conceding. "True. I guess nothing in life is without its own challenges."
I guess we are now even regarding insulting each other's work.
She smiles broadly. "Alight Hangry Hudson, let us get you fed."
I can't help but smile back at her.
We reach the restaurant and I stand aside to let her walk in first. Without thinking I reach out and my hand is on her lower back as we are led to the table I booked. She flinches ever so slightly at my touch, but I don't move my hand pretending not to notice. I wonder what would make a woman flinch like that at such a light touch.
Seated at our table with our drinks delivered I chat to the waiter about what platters I want to order for us. I can tell by her expression that she is not sure whether she likes the idea of a man ordering her food or if it is refreshing for her to not have to take the lead. I think she is more offended than refreshed, but I am in control of this situation not her. I invited her to dinner, it's my date --- or not date --- I can do it my way.
When the waiter leaves, I say to her "I promise you will like my choices, I have pretty good taste when it comes to sushi at least." She wrinkles her nose and then she smiles that beautiful rose-lipped smile of hers and shakes her head. "Do you always have to be in control of everything, Hudson?"
