There was definitely a jolt of electricity there, some chemistry.
“I was wondering if I could take you to dinner on Thursday. You know, as a thank you for everything you’ve done for me over the last few weeks.”
Did he just ask me out?
“We could even go to Taco Bell if you want,” he said with a laugh. “I mean, I’m not going to say no to that.” He slid his hands into his pockets and continued to stare at me, having a similar expression to Deacon’s, an intensity that was easy to produce.
I didn’t know what to say. I had not been expecting this.
He waited patiently, giving me a few seconds to process what just happened.
“Uh…”
“Come on, I can’t be that bad,” he said to break the ice. “I’m sure billionaires ask you out all the time, but I’m a pretty cool guy. I can afford to take you somewhere nice. We don’t have to go to Taco Bell.”
“No, I just…wasn’t expecting that.”
“Well, I think you’re cool…and really hot.”
My cheeks immediately blushed at his bluntness.
“And we’re in the same line of business, hospitality. I’m sure we have a lot in common.”
I still didn’t know what to say. “I’m very flattered, but…I don’t date my clients. It’s kind of a big rule in my profession.”
“Well, I’m moving out in about five seconds, so I’m not your client anymore.”
That was true. “I don’t know… Deacon is my client—”
“He said he was fine with it.”
“He did?” All of this was happening so fast that I really didn’t have the time to think about everything, to control my emotions before they escaped in my voice. There was disappointment there…although I didn’t know why. I was surprised they’d had that conversation in private, that Tucker expressed interest in me and Deacon didn’t care. It just…bothered me.
“Yeah.” He stared at me again expectantly, waiting for an answer.
“I…I need to talk to Deacon about it.”
He smiled. “So, that’s a maybe?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Great.” He clapped his hands and rubbed them together slightly. “Give me a call.”
A few days passed before I saw Deacon again.
He was one of my easiest clients, not requiring much. He didn’t make demands late in the day, asking me to make a run to the store because he was hosting a dinner party. He needed the same things on a schedule, so his life was predictable and easy to manage.
I’d thought about Tucker’s proposition, but it was hard to visualize us on a date when Deacon was part of the picture. He didn’t think that would be weird? If Tucker and I ended up together and then broke up? He just…didn’t care? I would have expected him to reject the idea immediately, at least for professional reasons.
I wasn’t sure why it bothered me so much.
After my shitshow with Jake, I knew I would never have another romantic relationship with a client. Lesson learned. So, I knew I didn’t see Deacon that way. And apparently…he didn’t see me that way either.
I went to his penthouse to deliver the mail, expecting him to be at work because it was early in the afternoon. But he was sitting at the dining table, in his sweatpants, his computer in front of him. The sun filtered through the window, showing the brown color of his hair when it was directly in the sunlight.
I stared at him for a second, admiring his strong physique, the way his arms were so cut they were like two sculptures. He hadn’t shaved for a few days, so his beard was starting to come in, to give him a dark look that matched his personality. Even when he sat in the chair, his stomach was tight, his eight-pack working despite being at rest. His chin rested on his fingers as he read his document on the screen, his fingertips absentmindedly brushing across his lips while he focused.
I cleared my throat and approached the table.
He straightened against the chair and looked at me.
I set the piles of mail on the surface. “I know we talked about this before and you made your position very clear, but I can handle all this for you if you’d like.”
He gave me the same stare.
I held up the bills. “Your electricity, gas, cable, etc. If you give me a checkbook, I can handle it for you. Some of my clients set up a whole new account with a small amount of cash. That way, it’s separate from their other finances. Just to make everything easier.”
He thought about the suggestion in silence, his dark eyes staring at me with that same focused expression. “Yes.”
“You want me to handle that for you?” I asked to clarify.
He left the dining table and walked into his office. He returned with a checkbook and tossed it onto the table before he sat down again, all the muscles of his body shifting and moving to handle his heavy frame. He was on the lean side, but with those muscles, he had to be almost two hundred pounds.