Million Dollar Date

by Susan Hatler

  He frowned and glanced around the room. “Exactly how long will this ta—”

  “First, a history of Rescue at the Barn.” With a click of my keyboard, the slideshow began: the greatest presentation of all time.

  In the end, the answer to Cooper’s question was that the presentation took eighty-three minutes. My lecture covered the benefits this dog rescue has for the city, including statistics about the health benefits of walking a dog, and the mental health benefits of loving a dog.

  I also did a deep dive into the cost to the city if Reagan’s Rescue at the Barn had to close and the dogs had to be supported by the already crowded publicly funded animal shelters. I was expansive about how exactly Reagan would effectively and efficiently employ the donation. I may have dropped out of Harvard Law, but certainly not before I learned how to be extremely convincing.

  Physical interaction with the doggies hadn’t done the trick in swaying Cooper, but my presentation would appeal to his analytical, logical, black and white numbers brain perfectly. How could he say ‘no’ after this? Rescue at the Barn made perfect sense. Admittedly, I think Banana fell asleep after like three minutes, but numbers weren’t really his forte. Running away from pigeons, though? Totally engaged.

  Anyway, I clenched my fist at my side in victory as I finished my presentation and clicked to my final slide, which was a thorough listing of all my sources, APA style, of course.

  “Well?” I said.

  It wasn’t that I expected him to give me a standing ovation—although it would’ve been welcomed and well deserved—but, still. I hadn’t expected Cooper to gape at the screen in the dark, empty conference room, with his mouth slightly open. I mean, his reaction didn’t exactly scream “impressed.”

  When he continued to remain silent and stare at the screen, I finally followed his gaze to the screen to make sure I hadn’t made a mistake in my citations. Nope, everything was perfect.

  “What did you think?” I asked, my tone perky and optimistic.

  He finally turned his head my way, while I waited for the expected reaction and applause. Instead, he frowned and then raised his hand.

  I tilted my head. “Officer Hill?”

  “May I ask questions now?”

  Did his tone sound annoyed or was it just me? “Yes, please. We welcome questions,” I said, realizing I’d used the plural when there was only me standing here.

  He moved his head slowly back and forth, as if he had so many questions he had to ponder which one to ask first. This seemed kind of surprising. I thought he would’ve handed over the money for the dogs straight away after this. Huh. But professional questions did show that he’s giving my presentation proper consideration from his analytic mind.

  “What exactly are you wearing?” he asked, finally.

  “Huh?” I glanced down at my suit. “I’m not sure of the brand actually . . .”

  He chuckled. “Since when do you wear suits? Or the color black?”

  “Trying to be professional.” I shrugged, glancing down at my boring outfit. “I didn’t want to distract from the presentation and just wanted to blend into the background, you know?”

  He stood and I gave him a curious look as he moved in closer.

  “Abigail Apple,” he said, his voice low and sexy, which made the distance between us feel even smaller. “It would be impossible for you to blend into any background. And I’m distracted by you every second.”

  “I, um . . . ” My belly did a cartwheel as I stared into his eyes, which seemed to glow like a sunlit lake in the light of the projector. “Any other questions?”

  “Since when do you say words like ‘analytics’ and ‘cost benefit analysis’ and ‘population density’?”

  My shoulders slumped and I glanced away, afraid of how bright my cheeks would grow if I looked up into his eyes. So, I stared at my toes and shrugged. Um, this wasn’t going so well.

  “I wanted to sound smart,” I said, deciding to be honest.

  “What do you mean sound smart? You are smart.” He reached for my hand, wrapping his fingers around mine. Tingles skittered up along my skin. Well, I certainly hadn’t expected this reaction from my presentation. Was my robot really holding my hand?

  His hand sure felt human, though. Warm. Soft. Strong. I couldn’t say I hated it. More like freaking loved it. He wasn’t a robot after all. “You’re also sweet, persistent, and caring. I didn’t need a presentation to learn those things about you. I see it in every smile, every glance, every laugh,” he said.

  “You do?” I asked, as he squeezed my hand, which was a good thing because I think my body had gone numb. My eyes went wide as he leaned in close to me.

  “You ready for my final question?” he asked, his breath warm against my cheek.

  No. “Yes.”

  “Do you know I haven’t stopped thinking about you since we left the barn?” he asked, his mouth curving upward into a sweet smile.

  My heart melted. “Really?”

  He nodded. “Really.”

  I suddenly swayed on my feet and Cooper steadied me with his strong hands on my elbows.

  “Swooning for me already?” he asked, obviously joking, but there was also concern evident in his voice.

  “No, I mean, yes, I mean . . .” My face heated and I twirled a piece of my hair. “I mean, I stayed up all night working on this presentation and my batteries are running a bit low.”

  “Let me drive you home.” He pulled keys from his pocket as if the matter had been decided.

  “No, I wouldn’t want to bother you any further when I’ve already taken you away from your job for so long. I’ll drive myself home.” I went to move past him to grab my purse, which held a still-snoozing Banana, looking adorable with his tie all askew.

  A line formed between Cooper’s eyebrows. “If you get behind the wheel, then I’ll be forced to give you another ticket.”

  I whirled back around, which turned out to be a bad idea since blood rushed to my head. “Excuse me?” I asked.

  “Driving with sleep deprivation can be as dangerous as driving intoxicated,” he said, fingers looped into his pockets as he rocked on his heels. “You’re impaired and thus a danger to those around you.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Are you threatening me with another ticket?”

  “Yes.”

  “Just so you can drive me home?”

  He grinned. “Yes.”

  “Isn’t that an abuse of power, Mr. By the Book?”

  He shrugged. “My car is out front.”

  A little thrill rolled through me. “Then I guess we’re going for a ride.”

  ****

  Confused and disoriented, I woke up in my bed and had to check my alarm clock to discover it was after five p.m. The smell of food wafted into my room, so I stumbled down the hall to find out what my friend Hannah was cooking.

  She turned to me as I entered the kitchen. “Hey there, sleepyhead,” she said.

  “I . . . um. . . where is Cooper?”

  “Officer McHotty?” she asked, letting out a loud whistle. “He dropped you off, literally dropped you off, this morning.”

  I frowned. “What?”

  She laughed. “Yeah, I was here doing some work from home and heard a knock on the door. And there you were, knocked out in the arms of the hottest cop I’ve ever seen.”

  “What?!” I asked, unable to remember a single lick of any of that.

  “Uh-huh.” She nodded, testing the sauce she was making by lifting the wooden spoon to her mouth. “He said you fell asleep seconds after you got in his car. He didn’t want to wake you up and said something about you staying up all night. Is that true? Anyway, I pointed him to your room and he carried you in.”

  I covered my face in embarrassment. “Oh, no.”

  “Oh, yes. He even tucked Banana in next to you and then left after giving you a kiss to your cheek. You have no idea how jealous I am right now.”

  I touched my cheek and imagined Cooper’s lips pressed ag
ainst my skin. My first kiss with him and I was dead asleep. Typical. Just typical.

  She glanced over her shoulder as she stirred the boiling pasta. “When he left he said he’d text you later.”

  “He did?” I asked, sprinting back to my room. Banana licked my hand as I searched my purse for my phone.

  I pulled out my phone and opened Cooper’s text: Very thorough presentation, Ms. Apple. You’ve given me a lot to consider. PS. I saved your life by not letting you get behind the wheel. PSS. Banana thinks he’s a police dog now. Hope that’s okay.

  Everything was so okay now. He had to donate the money to Reagan’s dog rescue after today. He just had to.

  Chapter Five

  The next day around dinnertime, a couple of my friends stopped by the pet store I managed so we could all play catch-up. This was a ritual we indulged in often, sometimes over coffee, sometimes over drinks, and this time over Chinese take-out from Wok N’ Roll since I’d skipped my hour lunch break. Yum.

  We’d spent the last thirty minutes discussing Hannah’s recent work dilemma. She had always liked her boss, but this week her boss had upped her work duties drastically, including assigning her to give a speech at an upcoming conference. A very public speech. To say Hannah wasn’t thrilled would be putting it mildly.

  “Important question for you, Hannah.” I lifted my chopsticks from my empty chicken chow mein bowl and raised them in the air. “Would you rather have a dog lick peanut butter off of your toes while being forced to hold still or give a three-minute public speech?”

  “S-stop coming up with these crazy scenarios,” she said, busting out in a fit of giggles. She clutched her side in unstoppable laughter and our friend Krista wiped away a tear while wheezing in a shaky breath.

  “You’re scaring the residents with that laugh,” I said, unsure of which was louder: my two friends or the shrieking parakeets. The birds’ calls echoed against the exposed brick walls all the way up to the tall ornate ceiling with Hannah and Krista’s laughter following. I took one of the dog chew toys I’d been stocking and beamed it at Hannah. The fluffy ball bounced off of her shoulder with a satisfying squeak, which only caused Hannah to laugh harder.

  Finally, she groaned. “Seriously, though, my boss is driving me nuts. I’ll bet Jennifer only assigned the speech to me because she doesn’t want to do it herself. It’s part of her job. So why am I the one stuck doing it?”

  “Ah, the question of the day.” I patted her arm before leaving to check a customer out at the register. The woman was buying fresh bedding for her child’s hamster and we made quick chitchat as she paid. After she left, I returned to find Hannah feeding Einstein, the pet store’s resident turtle. She held out a piece of lettuce, mumbling to him about her fear of public speaking.

  She sighed dramatically, while Krista pulled a white rabbit from its cage. “I mean, come on,” Hannah said in protest. “I’d rather file documents all day long and get a paper cut from each and every document than give this public speech.”

  Round and round we went, each of us trying to come up with something outrageous we’d rather do than give a speech. Hannah had taken a pubic speaking class when we were all together at U.C. Davis. Her face before each class matched the 70s-green couch Krista’s grandmother had “kindly” gifted to us for our apartment (no matter how many times we insisted we didn’t want it). That class had been a rough time for Hannah. I’d never seen anyone happier about a D+.

  “D stands for Done-zo,” she’d pronounced after her final class, proudly waving her C- final project. “Goodbye forever, public speaking. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

  She’d clearly spoken too soon.

  “All right, I have a good one.” Krista scratched the white rabbit behind its ear. “Is giving a five-minute speech in front of total strangers worse than being stuck on a five-day road trip with your entire family in a mini cooper?”

  Hannah frowned. “You know I have four brothers, right?”

  Krista grinned. “Exactly.”

  Tapping her chin, Hannah pondered this latest hat in the ring. Einstein crawled forward to chew at the lettuce that she held farther away due to her state of distraction.

  “Road trip,” Hannah finally answered, unknowingly moving the lettuce out of Einstein’s reach again. He hurried as fast as he could to get at it, which was maybe faster than a snail. Just maybe. “I could strap Harry and Joe to the top, make Peter run beside the car, and I’m sure I could squeeze Greg in the trunk. Then I’d have room to bring the two of you, too.”

  Krista laughed. “You can’t just tie—”

  The bell above the front door to the pet store rang, signaling a new customer. I looked up to see Cooper enter, looking professional (and oh-so-hot) in his police uniform.

  “Did you know he was coming?” Hannah whispered, glancing over at me.

  Krista leaned forward. “Abigail knows that guy? What have I missed? Fill me in already.”

  “That’s her hottie cop, who I told you about,” she answered.

  “He’s not my hottie cop,” I corrected, thinking the fact was unfortunate. “He’s the rigid, black and white, rule follower, who won’t vote for the dog shelter cop.”

  Krista hummed. “That’s him? He is smokin’—”

  I elbowed her in the side, just as Cooper came up to me. “Cooper, hi,” I said, standing up and steering him away from Krista and Hannah before they could say anything to embarrass me. Did I trust my friends with my life? Yes. Did I trust them not to ask Cooper nosey questions? Not in the slightest. My eyebrows came together. “Um, what are you doing here?”

  He chuckled. “Nice to see you, too.”

  I reached out and touched his elbow. “I didn’t mean it that way, I just—”

  Wait, I was touching his elbow. Why was I touching him and feeling like that had been a totally natural thing to do? I could hear Krista and Hannah behind us whispering, and my face heated as I (reluctantly) removed my hand from his arm.

  “I just meant that I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” I said rather lamely, staring at my toes.

  “Hi, Cooper,” Hannah called from where Einstein grumpily chased after the constantly moving piece of lettuce.

  I sent her a “don’t you dare embarrass me” glare and then a “please don’t embarrass me” plea look just to cover all my bases.

  “Doesn’t Abigail look pretty today?” Hannah asked Cooper, completely ignoring both my vicious eye threat and my puppy dog eyes.

  “Let’s talk over here,” I said, leading Cooper further away and stopping at the fish tanks on the opposite side of the store.

  Over his tall shoulder I could just catch sight of Hannah and Krista whispering with one another. I tried to ignore them as best I could. My cheeks didn’t need to get any redder. I was sure they were approaching the color of the lights on top of Cooper’s police car.

  “What’s up?” I asked. My approach at sounding cool failed big time as my voice cracked. Cooper graciously ignored it and smiled down at me.

  “What do you think about another date?” he asked. “I didn’t get a chance to ask you yesterday since you passed out in my car.”

  “Um, yeah, sorry about that.” I scratched the back of my neck. “I was up kind of late putting together my presentation and didn’t get much—well, any—sleep.”

  “That drool is never coming out of my shirt.”

  “What? I drooled on you?” I asked, reminding myself to ask Hannah and Krista if public speaking is worse than drooling on the arm of a cute guy who is driving you home. I’d so pick the speech in that scenario. “Cooper, I’m so sorry. If you give me the shirt I can try some bleach—”

  I noticed a twitch at the corners of Cooper’s mouth and paused.

  “Wait a minute . . .” I rolled my eyes. “You’re joking with me.”

  He nodded. “I am indeed.”

  Relief washed over me and I decided this playful side of him wasn’t all that bad. I could even grow to like it a teeny,
tiny bit if it didn’t involve my drool.

  “So,” he said, clapping his hands together. “Date?”

  Behind Cooper’s back, Hannah and Krista swooned dramatically onto the fluffy stack of dog beds and I tried not to laugh out loud.

  “Sure,” I said, giving him what I hoped was a casual shrug. “Another date would be fun. When were you thinking?”

  The corners of his mouth curved upward. “Now.”

  “Whatever joke program they uploaded into your motherboard is running well. Hats off to the developer,” I said, to my funny RoboCop before moving back to the cash register. I found my calendar under the counter and flipped through it. “I’m free on Friday. Does that work?”

  “I don’t want to wait until Friday to spend more time with you,” he said, resting his elbows on the counter and leaning across so that his lips were dangerously close to my ear. “And I wasn’t joking, Abigail.”

  I pulled back, giving him an assessing look. An impromptu date? Was this the same follow-the-rules man who had given me a ticket just a few days ago?

  “You want to go on a date right now?” I asked, searching his eyes for any sign of a joke.

  His eyes darkened. “Preferably at this second.”

  My belly did a little flip. “I can’t.”

  Cooper looked surprised. “Can’t?”

  “I’m working, Cooper. And judging by your uniform, you are too.”

  “My shift just ended.”

  “Mine hasn’t.” I moved away from him to prevent my blurting out that I would go with him because I so wanted to have that date. But, hello? A robot was not the right person for me, especially one who refused to vote for Reagan’s Rescue at the Barn, which was so near and dear to my heart. I busied myself flipping through a magazine of new dog products. Cooper’s steps echoed as he followed after me. He took the magazine between two fingers and twisted it around.