her.”
“Why?”
“I had to think of a way to let her down gently. I’ll recommend her with reservation.”
“The owner of Perfect Match is getting married.”
Brenna set her pen down Perfect Match was one of her main competitors. “I know.”
“Clients may start wondering why you aren’t married.”
“Clients worry about their own social lives not mine.”
Pauline went back to the front desk. Brenna cleared up her desk ready to leave. The buzzer rang. “Yes?”
“You’re 5:59 appointment is here,” Pauline said resigned.
Brenna glanced at her calendar confused. “My what?”
The door swung open; Hunter appeared in the doorway. Her spirits fell as her heart accelerated. He was still gorgeous. She had hoped she’d imagined it.
He held up a flyer. “I didn’t know you were sponsoring a Spring Single’s Party. Why didn’t you tell me about this?”
She tapped her finger against the desk. “Are you extremely slow-witted or do you just enjoy being insulted?”
Unperturbed, Hunter folded the flyer and tucked it inside his jacket. “Are you ready for dinner?”
“I told you I am not going out with you.”
Hunter nodded. “Yes, I remember you mentioned that.” He rested a hand on his chest. “And since I am a considerate person, I decided that we’ll eat in.” He stepped into her office and opened the door wider. Two waiters dressed in black tuxedos entered, respectively pulling and pushing a table draped in a royal blue tablecloth with red and golden candles sitting among two covered plates, a basket of wheat rolls, and chilled lemonade.
Hunter said a few words to the waiters before they left. He turned, his eyes clung to hers. “I forgot to say hi.”
“Hi.” She cleared her throat annoyed with how breathy she sounded. “This is ridiculous.”
He shut the door and closed the blinds. “No, it’s not.” He glanced around the room. “Where’s the puppy?”
“He’s not mine. I was only looking after him for a short while.”
“Oh,” Hunter said sounding a little disappointed. “I got this for him.” He set a chew toy on her desk. “Would you like a puppy?”
“No,” she said quickly in case he got any ideas.
“Okay.” He took out a lighter and lit the candles. Then he turned off the lights letting the flames cast shadows on the walls. “Won’t you come and join me?”
“I don’t work after hours.”
“This is called eating.” He held out his hand. “Want me to show you how?”
“I know how to eat.”
His hand remained stretched out to her. “Good.”
Brenna was hungry, but was trying to think of the best way to reach the table without him seeing her walk. It would be awkward otherwise since she wasn’t the woman he thought she was. “I’m a little chilly. Could you get my sweater, please? It’s in the hall closet.”
“I’ll loan you my jacket.”
He would be chivalrous. “I’d prefer my sweater.”
“This is better.”
“Here.” He draped the jacket around her shoulders. It encompassed her in its warmth and musky scent. “There. Now come on.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. She landed on her bad leg and stumbled into him.
He looked down at her concerned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pull you so hard.”
“It’s not you, it’s me. I have a bad leg.” She glanced at her cane hidden under the desk. “I use that to walk.”
“Oh. Good.” He grabbed her chair then set it at the table.
She stared at him. “Good?”
“Yes, I’m glad I didn’t hurt you. Now come on. I’m hungry.”
Brenna only stood there. Good. That was it? No, ‘I’m sorry’, or other such platitude? No pity, no sadness, no disgust? He didn’t care? Her relief nearly made her laugh. Instead she grabbed her cane and folder then sat at the table.
Hunter lifted the covers off the plates and revealed grilled chicken, seasoned basmati rice, tomato and feta salad.
He poured the lemonade as she bit into the chicken. Outside they heard
“Why?”
“I had to think of a way to let her down gently. I’ll recommend her with reservation.”
“The owner of Perfect Match is getting married.”
Brenna set her pen down Perfect Match was one of her main competitors. “I know.”
“Clients may start wondering why you aren’t married.”
“Clients worry about their own social lives not mine.”
Pauline went back to the front desk. Brenna cleared up her desk ready to leave. The buzzer rang. “Yes?”
“You’re 5:59 appointment is here,” Pauline said resigned.
Brenna glanced at her calendar confused. “My what?”
The door swung open; Hunter appeared in the doorway. Her spirits fell as her heart accelerated. He was still gorgeous. She had hoped she’d imagined it.
He held up a flyer. “I didn’t know you were sponsoring a Spring Single’s Party. Why didn’t you tell me about this?”
She tapped her finger against the desk. “Are you extremely slow-witted or do you just enjoy being insulted?”
Unperturbed, Hunter folded the flyer and tucked it inside his jacket. “Are you ready for dinner?”
“I told you I am not going out with you.”
Hunter nodded. “Yes, I remember you mentioned that.” He rested a hand on his chest. “And since I am a considerate person, I decided that we’ll eat in.” He stepped into her office and opened the door wider. Two waiters dressed in black tuxedos entered, respectively pulling and pushing a table draped in a royal blue tablecloth with red and golden candles sitting among two covered plates, a basket of wheat rolls, and chilled lemonade.
Hunter said a few words to the waiters before they left. He turned, his eyes clung to hers. “I forgot to say hi.”
“Hi.” She cleared her throat annoyed with how breathy she sounded. “This is ridiculous.”
He shut the door and closed the blinds. “No, it’s not.” He glanced around the room. “Where’s the puppy?”
“He’s not mine. I was only looking after him for a short while.”
“Oh,” Hunter said sounding a little disappointed. “I got this for him.” He set a chew toy on her desk. “Would you like a puppy?”
“No,” she said quickly in case he got any ideas.
“Okay.” He took out a lighter and lit the candles. Then he turned off the lights letting the flames cast shadows on the walls. “Won’t you come and join me?”
“I don’t work after hours.”
“This is called eating.” He held out his hand. “Want me to show you how?”
“I know how to eat.”
His hand remained stretched out to her. “Good.”
Brenna was hungry, but was trying to think of the best way to reach the table without him seeing her walk. It would be awkward otherwise since she wasn’t the woman he thought she was. “I’m a little chilly. Could you get my sweater, please? It’s in the hall closet.”
“I’ll loan you my jacket.”
He would be chivalrous. “I’d prefer my sweater.”
“This is better.”
“Here.” He draped the jacket around her shoulders. It encompassed her in its warmth and musky scent. “There. Now come on.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. She landed on her bad leg and stumbled into him.
He looked down at her concerned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pull you so hard.”
“It’s not you, it’s me. I have a bad leg.” She glanced at her cane hidden under the desk. “I use that to walk.”
“Oh. Good.” He grabbed her chair then set it at the table.
She stared at him. “Good?”
“Yes, I’m glad I didn’t hurt you. Now come on. I’m hungry.”
Brenna only stood there. Good. That was it? No, ‘I’m sorry’, or other such platitude? No pity, no sadness, no disgust? He didn’t care? Her relief nearly made her laugh. Instead she grabbed her cane and folder then sat at the table.
Hunter lifted the covers off the plates and revealed grilled chicken, seasoned basmati rice, tomato and feta salad.
He poured the lemonade as she bit into the chicken. Outside they heard
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