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Her focus skates around my face before she nods. “Okay.”
“Then don’t answer him for a while. Let his little mind work overtime at what you could be doing right now.”
Let’s see if the ole boy gets jealous.
“Did you order cheesy bread?” Her blue eyes blink rapidly at me as if she has to beg me to grab that for her.
Little does she know, she doesn’t have to.
Especially dressed like that.
Hollyn types away at her cell while I wrap up ordering our food before she hits play on the TV with whatever it was she was watching.
Followed up by her cell phone pinging a few seconds later.
“He asked me if I was going to another Wolverines game,” she says, almost sounding nervous.
“Let him sit.” Hollyn’s lips part, about to ask me something, but she clamps them down again. “Watch your show, Shorty.”
Her nostrils flare a little bit, but her attention falls back to what I asked her to do to keep her mind off things.
Meanwhile, I received a text from Graham about the current press debacle and how I’m handling it. He knows I hate this shit and that I’m probably fuming smoke out of my ears.
Ping.
“He asked me if I was taking notes.”
This clown.
I don’t even glance up from my conversation with Graham when I say, “Tell him …something like that.”
“Are you crazy?”
“Depends who you ask.”
“I can’t say that.” I look up at her and stare. “How’s that gonna look?”
“Like we’re possibly sleeping together.”
Her eyes bulge. “Why in the world would I want him to think that? He’s not going to ask me out—”
“Why not?”
“Because I’d be involved with you.”
I cock my head to the side. “And what’s wrong with that?”
Hollyn’s face softens a bit. “Nothing, it’s just that…well, he might think I’m not interested.”
“Good,” I reply. “Then maybe he’ll work for you.”
Her brows pull together as she glances down at her phone. “He didn’t respond.”
“Hang in there, Shorty. You have him tethered right now.”
“How can you be so sure?”
She looks so defeated that I’m tempted to tell her to come over here, and I’ll show her how a real man appreciates a woman of her caliber.
