But I could have worn those slides with this outfit.
Or I could have not changed at all.
And I did not do either.
The next reason this was not a good idea was that it was not lost on me that picture had made the rounds, and now there we’d be, at a public bar, Duncan and me.
If anyone took another snap, and it was a good possibility they would, it’d be a fan to a flame.
However, I felt it was less of a good idea to ask him to come up to my suite to chat.
No.
After the knee brush at lunch, I knew that was a very, very bad idea.
The last reason this was not a good idea was that I’d asked for this meeting with Duncan at all.
We did not need closure.
We’d had closure.
Twenty-eight years of it.
But did that stop me from asking Mary to get me his cell phone number?
No.
What was I doing?
“Genny.”
I turned on my stool and looked up at Duncan.
And I didn’t miss the casual plaid shirt he’d been wearing with faded jeans at lunch was gone and a nice button down with dark-wash jeans had taken its place.
He looked really, really good.
Oh hell.
We weren’t going for closure.
We were both behaving like we were on a date.
“Duncan,” I greeted.
He looked to the barkeep, who was coming our way, but he was unable to order.
Our attention was taken by a beautiful, impeccably dressed African American woman who was now at our sides.
Damn.
A fan.
“Ms. Swan, Mr. Holloway, I’m Sienna Sinclair.”
Not a fan.
Or maybe still a fan.
But also the owner of the hotel.
“If you’d like to follow me, I think it’ll be more comfortable for you to be seated in our brand-new VIP area,” she finished.
Her gaze then slid to the side, and I twisted to look over my shoulder to see a rather cozy corner booth recessed in an alcove in the back, in front of which two members of staff were erecting an attractive, freestanding folding screen.
“If you’ll give me your order, Mr. Holloway, I’ll have it brought to your table,” she said.
That cozy booth looked cozy.
But the way they were positioning that screen, someone would have to be very intent on getting a picture of us around it.
And it was much better than speaking with Duncan in my suite.
I grabbed my drink and slid off my stool.
Duncan ordered something that sounded like it was beer.
I expressed my thanks to Ms. Sinclair, who inclined her head before she led the way, and Duncan put his hand light to the small of my back to guide me to the booth.
I did not discourage this due to what it might look like if someone saw me doing it.
But I had no idea how I made it to that booth considering every iota of my attention was on the touch of his hand, no matter how light, so I wasn’t sure how I managed to put one foot in front of the other.
Okay, just me asking for this meet was a very, very bad idea.
And that idea was getting worse by the second.
I slid in, put my drink on the small table, and Duncan slid in beside me.
Our hips were touching, and if I wanted to avoid that, I’d need to slide some more, which would put me on the floor.
I gritted my teeth.
Sienna Sinclair faded away after wishing us to enjoy our evening, and the staff closed us in with the screen, leaving only a small opening a human might, if they sucked in their tummies, get through.
I turned instantly to Duncan.
“I can’t stay long. My cat is upstairs.”
He blinked fast and asked, “I’m sorry?”
“My cat. My building has a sanitation problem and I can’t return to my condo until it’s sorted. So I’m staying here. And I’m close to my cat. I’m an animal lover, as you, well, um…know. So my assistant brought her up. She’s a low maintenance cat, but she’s still in new surroundings, so I don’t want her up there alone for long.”
“Your building has a sanitation problem?”
“I’m trying not to think of that, but yes, my building. I, uh…live in a condo.”
“Right. Gen—”
“It’s a really nice one. But it might be too big of one, because the kids are now gone.”
“Okay. But, you see, Ge—”
“It’s fancy though, not a hint of wood around. Lots of marble. Crystal chandeliers. No wood.”
He didn’t say anything, but he was now watching me very closely with an expression coming over his handsome face that was very, very dangerous.
Which meant I kept babbling.
“I’ve been there seven years. I love it.”
“Do you now?” he murmured, his eyes falling to my mouth.
Ohmigod!
“Uh, yes. I have the most amazing view.”
“Mm,” he hummed.
My thighs started quivering.
My mouth kept blabbing.
“You should know that today is not normal. Maybe it’s Prescott. But mostly it’s you.”
That got his eyes returning to mine.