“Exactly what you think.”
The waitress returns and asks if we’d like anything to drink. Jacob asks for an iced tea and I stick with water.
“I’m surprised. I thought you’d order whiskey or something.”
He raises an eyebrow. “It’s the middle of the day.”
“I know, but still.”
“I have a reputation.” He leans back and eyes me. “You believe in my reputation?”
“I don’t know what I believe,” I admit. “But you definitely have a reputation.”
“What have you heard? I’ll tell you the truth.”
“I’ve heard the whole ‘you’ve slept with half the women in New York’ thing.”
“Not true. I barely spend any time in New York.” He hesitates then grins at me. “Although it is a lot.”
I roll my eyes. “Of course.”
“I’m sure you’ve heard the other rumors. The drinking, the partying.”
“More or less.”
“It’s half true. When I was a younger man, I took advantage of my status. I drank, I gambled, I partied. But I gave that all up a long time ago.”
“Really?” I cock my head at him. “You don’t do any of that?”
“I drink a little. I party only when I’m required to for work.” He laughs a little. “Frankly, I’ve gotten boring in my old age.”
“You’re, what, thirty-two?”
“Exactly. Were you reading my Wikipedia page?”
I blush a little. “No. Well, yeah.”
“Thirty-two isn’t young anymore. But really, ever since we started FLFM, I haven’t had time to go out to clubs and get wasted all the time. I’m not sure I’d say I’ve settled down, but the wild days are behind me.”
I lean on my elbows and look at him. “I’m not sure I believe you.”
He laughs a little. “Oh, yeah?”
“The rumors are just too consistent to be all made up.”
“Well now, that’s a good point.” He leans in toward me and there’s only a foot or two separating our faces. “Truth is, the rumors are useful.”
“Useful? Really?”
“Really. The mythmaking helps us get clients. They want to come in the door and meet me, mostly based on rumor and speculation. They’re almost always a little disappointed by what they see, but by then, hopefully we’ve impressed them with our business.”
“Huh.” I stare into his handsome eyes and feel myself get a little dizzy. “That actually… makes a lot of sense.”
“Darin came up with it. My business partner. He’s the outgoing type, likes to meet new clients, bring them in, wine and dine them. Most of the rumors come from him. Except for the ones that I make up.”
I laugh a little and he smiles back. “So it’s all marketing.”
“Mostly. Like I said, I had some wild days when I was younger.”
We maintain eye contact and for a second, I can see that younger, wilder Jacob. I can see him going out, getting women. Probably as many as he wanted, whenever he wanted. He’s rich and handsome and wealthy. And clearly he’s very smart and charming. I’d love to pretend like I’m immune to it, but I’m not. I can feel myself getting a little dizzy just letting him stare at me.
The waitress comes back and we order. I ask for a salad and he gets a light pasta dish. We talk about our lives after that, although he mostly asks me questions. It’s a little nerve-wracking, but I’m pretty much entirely truthful.
Of course, I leave out one tiny detail. He doesn’t think to ask me about other work experience, since I would’ve put it on my resume.
Unless I was trying to hide it from him.
By the time we’re finished eating, I’m thoroughly charmed and entirely out of my depth. I’ve been honest with him about who I am and what I do, except for one detail. I keep telling myself that it doesn’t matter, that I’m not here to investigate him, that he’s just a means to an end.
But I hate keeping this from him. I want him to know. He seems like a decent person and I honestly think that if I told him the truth, he might actually help aid our investigation. I’m sure nobody’s actually tried talking to him before.
Maybe I’m just being naive or maybe I’m just utterly charmed by him. Either way, I’m out of my depth here. This wasn’t what I signed on for.
“That was good,” I say as he pays the check.
“Yeah, it was. Good food, nice company.” He smirks at me. “Not bad to look at, either.”
I roll my eyes again. “You’re ceaseless. You know that, right?”
“I just speak my mind, is all.”
“Oh, sure. That’s the excuse of every asshole in the world, you know.”
“I know.”
He stands and comes over to me, helping me pull my chair out. I’m distracted by how close he is, the way he smells, the way his hand lingers on the small of my back sending chills of excitement down my spine. His smile makes me shiver and I can’t bring myself to look away.