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“You could try, I suppose, but newsflash, I would win.”
“I’m not even going to attempt to argue with that because I already know you’re right. It doesn’t make it acceptable, though.”
“Who cares about that? It had the effect I was looking for and made you sit up and take notice. You’re welcome.”
She shakes her head and as the elevator door opens, this time she is the first one out and once again, I hate the way I check out her ass as she goes.
CHAPTER 19
LAURA
Give me dogs any day over humans. That was an hour of my life I wish I could forget. It was so boring, and I really hope I’m not expected to attend any more meetings like that one.
As we head toward the car, I notice the driver and smile and he returns it with an easy one of his own and I sense more than just a passing interest. Before I can say anything, Troy says abruptly, “Thanks, Carlton, take us to The Ivy.”
He nods as he closes the door behind us and I say quickly, “Is there another meeting to attend?”
He shakes his head and pulls out his phone. “No. Just lunch.”
His attention is claimed by various texts, and I sit awash with confusion. “Lunch?”
I must voice my thoughts out loud because he peers up from his phone and fixes me with a blank stare. “We must eat and it’s twelve thirty already. I have a full agenda for this afternoon and need something to sustain me through it. You are with me so, by default, you get to enjoy a decent meal rather than the subs you usually prefer, which you really should reconsider if you value your health.”
“How do you know I eat subs?” I stare at him in astonishment, and he shrugs, “I know everything about you, Laura. Call it employment research.”
“It’s giving off stalker vibes, if I’m honest.” I snap.
His expression is a picture and makes me smile, although I wish my mouth would engage with my brain sometimes because I really didn’t mean to say that out loud.
“Stalker?” He raises his eyes, and it makes me giggle, which causes him to stare a little harder.
“I’m sorry.” I try to regain my business-like composure. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
“It’s all about control, Laura.” He raises his eyes. “Learn to control your thoughts; they will get you in trouble if you don’t.”
He turns his attention back to his phone and I stare out of the window with increasing boredom. I wonder when I’m going to admit to myself that my new job sucks. I’m not cut out for the corporate world. It isn’t me and I much prefer my old life. I knew where I stood with the animals. This one sitting beside me is very different, and I’m not sure how to handle him.
We soon arrive at The Ivy and despite the company, a tingle of expectation passes through me as I stare at the hallowed doors to exclusivity. I heard it’s almost impossible to get a booking, and yet here we are on a whim. At least I think it’s a whim and as we head inside, I notice the waiter almost tripping over his feet to get to us.
“Mr. Remington, welcome back.”
Troy nods and stares at him as if waiting for something and the waiter blushes a little and turns to me and says with a smile. “Welcome madam, we are honored to serve you.”
Troy nods as if satisfied and as we follow the waiter to a table set by the window, I stare in awe at my surroundings. It’s as if I have stepped into a billionaire romance novel.
The table is dressed in a white crisp tablecloth with crystal glasses twinkling against the sunlight that touches the beautiful orchid in a glass vase. The walls are a beautiful pale blue silk with gold ivy leaves trailing across it.
The lush carpet is pale blue and appears new, which gives me anxiety because what if I drop anything? It would be sacrilege and the small white cushioned chairs don’t help with that, because now I willdefinitelydrop something.
The people that sit among us are dressed in designer elegance. Ladies that lunch who openly stare at Troy with adulation and desire. Men who are dressed for success hold phones to their ears, while their glamorous companions lift glasses that cause their diamond rings to flash in the light. Soft music is playing and makes me believe we have stepped into another universe entirely.
The waiter hovers by a small chair and as I take my seat, he nods respectfully as he hands me a white menu with pale blue and gold lettering.
He turns his attention to Troy, who says rather snappily in my opinion, “A bottle of your finest white wine plus the special menu of the day for both of us. Charge it to my account.”
He effectively dismisses the waiter, and I stare at the arrogance of the man in front of me.
“What did you do?” I say in a whisper, and he shrugs.
