I stand, leaning in to kiss her cheek, the gesture making her body stiffen. I’m not immune to her scent, its purity and seductiveness all rolled into one, but I need to control myself if I want to keep her around me.
We both sit, ordering coffees and, of course, her brownie, the waiter quick to serve us.
“Charlotte, about Saturday night—”
“Can we just drop the subject?” she interjects. “Adriana explained the whole Samantha thing to me.”
“You spoke to Adriana about the other night?”
“Well, no, I mean, yes. I had lunch with her yesterday. She mentioned Samantha and explained what happened which I can only assume she heard from you since she wasn’t at the club. I was pretty wasted. I don’t recall much of the night.”
“Would you like me to refresh your memory?” I tease.
She smiles, only slightly. “How about we keep that a secret?”
I change the subject, not wanting to push her any further. “So, you’re a lawyer?”
“Yes. Nikki and I opened our practice about a year ago.”
The waiter returns with our coffees and the brownie. I welcome the caffeine hit, exhausted from the lack of sleep and change in time zone.
“That’s quite an achievement,” I tell her, prying into her past with a desperate need to learn more. “Where did you study?”
“Yale. I pretty much worked my ass off to get where I am.”
Her ass. Don’t. Fucking. Go. There.
“So, you came here after…” I don’t want to say the words, cautious of her wary expression.
“No, I went to live with my grandmother in Connecticut. She passed away about five months after I arrived.” Charlotte lowers her gaze toward the table, running her fingers along the rim of the cup. “She was an amazing woman. She taught me a lot during that time. After she passed, I wanted to make her proud. So, I got into Yale, studied hard, then moved here with Nikki and started my career.”
I reach out to touch her hand. “I’m sorry about your grandmother.”
Her phone starts vibrating on the table, breaking our conversation.
“Sorry, I need to take this… She answers abruptly with, “Tate.” Listening to the voice on the other end, I watch her eyes roll in frustration. “Fine. I’ll be there, but I’m telling you, we won’t settle for that amount.”
This isn’t the Charlotte I know. This woman is a hard-ass. Fuck, it’s turning me on.
“I’m so sorry,” she says, hanging up the phone.
“It’s fine. I get it, the whole work thing.”
“So, what is it you do, Mr. Edwards?”
Oh no, there she goes again.
“Too much, I can’t keep track anymore. I’m a workaholic.”
Call me Mr. Edwards again. Pretty please.
She takes a bite of her brownie, licking her lips with enjoyment. Is there a restroom in here? My pants feel like they are two sizes too small. My brain tries to remember the closest hotel, desperate to take her anywhere and shove my cock inside that beautiful mouth of hers.
“Delicious?”
She licks her lips again. “I’ve had better.”
I take the fork off her plate, tasting a piece. “Tastes perfect to me.”