He effectively breaks the ice, and I find myself grinning.
“Yep. Whipped them good, gave them a lecture. Don’t worry, you’re safe now.”
“You’re not.”
I lick my lips. “What?”
“You heard me.”
Oh boy. His voice is low and seductive. Bedroom voice. Right, I can’t let my mind go there. I called with a purpose.
“I wanted to ask for some tips. What will the meeting with the Delicious Dining people be like?”
“You should definitely have a pitch prepared.”
“A sales pitch?”
“More than that. They’ll want to know about you too, the story behind the restaurants. In a nutshell, they want a captivating story. Something to keep viewers glued to the TV. You should elaborate on the points we talked about when we met at Blue Moon.”
My stomach sinks. I know my strengths
, and captivating a group of strangers with my storytelling isn’t one of them. I can efficiently prepare a sales pitch, and I can even confidently throw around marketing terms such as ‘unique selling proposition’ and ‘competitive advantage,’ but telling a story is another beast.
“Sounds complex.”
“I’ll help you prepare.”
“I like how there’s no question mark at the end of that sentence.”
“Not giving you a chance to turn me down.”
“You have time? I’m sure you have a million things to do before leaving.” My throat almost closes up as I utter that last word.
“I have time. Does Friday evening work?” His tone is downright bossy now. A delicious twinkle of awareness travels through my limbs. I can’t believe bossy is doing it for me. His alpha caveman tendencies were one thing, but this is different. Maybe it was just a mishap. I should test this some more, make sure I’m not imagining things.
“What if I say no?”
“I’ll show up anyway.”
“You don’t even know where I’ll be.”
“Damn you, woman, stop fighting or I’ll kiss you again when I do find you. And I’ll kiss you good, hard, and long.”
Oh my! There’s definitely a twinkle, possibly even a sizzle. I don’t recognize myself.
“You’re a bad man.” My voice is a raspy whisper—my bedroom voice. Pulling myself together, I smooth a wrinkle on my bedsheet with the back of my hand, forcing my trail of thoughts on a safe path again. “But thank you for wanting to help. I really appreciate it, Nate. Let’s meet at Blake’s bar so we can include him in the conversation. Even if he won’t come to the meeting, I don’t want him to feel left out.”
“Sounds great.”
“My car is out of the mechanic’s shop,” I add quickly before he can offer to pick me up.
“Afraid to be alone with me?”
“Yes.”
“Good. You should be.”
“See you on Friday.”