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“That’s something we have in common then,” he tells me. “I’m pretty much a workaholic as well.”
“She does join us a few times a month for trivia night. It’s a tradition.”
I close my eyes and count to five, hoping when I open them, this will all be over.
It doesn’t work. He’s still staring at me.
“I am actually trying to hire a new employee, so today, I’m reviewing contracts,” I explain.
“That sounds about as fun as moving.”
“I wanted to get it out of the way. Tonight, our friend is having a dinner party and this needs to be done.”
Why I felt the need to tell him that is beyond me, but it just blurted out.
“Well, damn, I was hoping to buy you a drink later as thanks for your help and maybe ply you for information about the neighborhood. I’m not too familiar with this area.”
My stomach flips. Before I can stop them, words spill out of my mouth. “How about tomorrow?”
“That will work. What time?”
Shit! I have plans with Dad for dinner tomorrow night. “We could start early. There’s an amazing café across the street.”
“How about I come get you at nine?”
“I’ll be ready.”
“Mr. Hall, we’re going to need to know where this goes,” one of the movers yells.
“I’d better go.” He sighs and glances over his shoulder. “Have a nice time tonight.”
“Nice to meet you, Lawson,” Jenny chirps.
“You too.” He turns to leave and spins back to me. “Greer, I’m looking forward to tomorrow.” He winks and strolls away, disappearing before I can respond.
Jenny shuts the door quietly then proceeds to bounce around. “Oh my God, that was awesome.”
&nbs
p; The last few minutes replay in my head, and I don’t see anything awesome about them.
“What are you talking about? I humiliated myself. You basically implied I have no social life except for trivia nights, and he probably thinks you’re pathetic for using his movers for entertainment.”
She stops moving and plants her hands on her hips, expelling a loud, dramatic breath. “You are so clueless. That couldn’t have gone better if I planned it.”
“Once again, what are you talking about?”
“While he couldn’t keep his eyes off you, and you him… I was assessing him. He didn’t even flinch when I mentioned you were a workaholic. In fact, the vibe was exactly opposite. There was a flash of approval followed by disappointment when you mentioned having plans tonight. Maybe him overhearing you compare him to David Beckham was a little over the top, but the rest was perfect.”
“Over the top? More like mortifying,” I grumble.
“Greer, forget that part. He came over here to ask you on a date.”
“No, he came to return my dishtowel and find out who the creeper was.”
“The same dishtowel he left with?”
“So, he forgot to hand it to me, but it isn’t really a date. He wants to know about the area.”
