by Inara Scott
“Yeah, somehow hummus doesn’t quite hit the spot in the same way.”
They nodded in mutual sympathy. Cecilia took another drink, then stared at Zoe’s empty hands. “Oh dear, you don’t have a drink.” She winced in shame. “Your hands were full getting me food. How terribly rude of me.”
Zoe waved her hand dismissively. “I’m a whiskey drinker now. I’ll have mine later.”
“Whiskey?” Cecilia cocked her head, then nodded as if she’d put the pieces together. “Ah, I see. You’re going after the Southcycle work, right?”
Since Cecilia had a strange way of knowing everything that was happening in the Valley, Zoe didn’t bat an eye. “Yep. Doing some interesting research along the way, trying to learn to speak Aims’s language. Discovered I’ve been wasting my alcohol on wine all these years when I should have been drinking whiskey. When he turns me down flat, I guess that can be the benefit I take away from the whole experience.”
“Aims isn’t as bad as they say,” Cecilia said.
“Really? That’s a take on him I haven’t heard.”
“He and my father worked on a project together a few years ago, so I got to know him a little. I think he has some issues he doesn’t talk about. You watch—he throws parties, but never stays for them. He puts together a pretty good show, but I think he’s just trying to give people what they want. And, of course, he’s always trying to impress the investors who like that sort of macho thing. I don’t think he’s the guy he pretends to be.”
She popped a single small piece of cheese into her mouth and followed it with another drink. Her fingers were still quivering, but at least she seemed to have slowed her breathing a little.
“Very interesting.” Zoe tapped her lips. “That’s really good for me to know. Any other tips? Things that might help when I’m trying to establish some rapport with him—assuming I get that far?”
“You can’t outguy the other guys. I don’t think learning their language is a bad idea, but don’t lie about who you are. That’s a ticket to failure. If you can get Aims without his entourage, that will help. Oh, and ask him about his dog. He’s head over heels in love with it, but he doesn’t tell the press because it doesn’t fit the profile.”
“He’s got a dog?” Zoe drew back in surprise. “That’s weird. I never heard anything about it.”
“I was at his place once and I saw him walking it early in the morning.”
“Please tell me it’s a Chihuahua.”
“I’ll let him share that part.”
Zoe laughed. “Fair enough.” She noticed with some relief that Cecilia was relaxing back into her chair. The white in her knuckles seemed to have receded. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the information.”
Cecilia shrugged. “Women need to stick together. It’s hard enough to make it in this world. Someone’s got to have your back.”
“Speaking of which, you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” Zoe said softly.
“It was a tough day,” Cecilia said. “Some are better than others, you know? And events like this…” She trailed off.
“Anxiety?” Zoe asked.
Cece shrugged. “I suppose. No big deal. I just need to get away sometimes.”
“I understand.”
They sat for a few more minutes, chatting about people they knew in common. Cece mentioned several people that Zoe should meet and promised to set up lunches in the future. Zoe was relieved to see the old Cece back in place by the time they stood to part ways.
“Hope tomorrow is a better day,” Zoe said, giving her a quick, spontaneous hug.
Cece seemed a little surprised, but returned the embrace with only the briefest of hesitation. “It will be. And thanks for the company. And the wine and the food.” She flashed an unexpected grin, and it transformed her aloof, almost cold features. “But mostly the wine.”
Zoe held out an imaginary glass and smiled in return. “I can toast to that.”
…
“Zoe!” Luke waved to her as she made her way toward the coat check. Zoe winced. Damn it. She was hoping to sneak out unnoticed.
She gave him a smile in return as he wove his way through the room to her side. “You caught me on my way out,” she said.
He steered her from the direction she’d been headed, back toward the center of the room. “Make one more round with me.”
She blew out a breath. “Fine. But then I’m out. I haven’t had dinner yet.”
“Is that right?” He slid her a sideways glance. “Hot date?”
“Hard to believe I do have a life outside work,” she said, avoiding the question.
“The hard part to believe is that you won’t tell me about it.” Luke met her gaze briefly before focusing on a tall, dark-haired man heading in their direction. “Well, how about that for a coincidence. Hugh’s here. You remember him, right?”
“Of course.” She gritted her teeth. A coincidence? She doubted that. Since when had Luke turned into a matchmaker? Was this some kind of not-so-subtle way for him to remind her that he didn’t want her fooling around with Connor?
Luke said hello and reintroduced her to Hugh, then finished off the wine in his glass. “Appears I need a refill. I’ll leave you two to chat.”
Zoe rolled her eyes at the obvious ploy. She cursed silently at his retreating back, then turned to Hugh with what she hoped looked like a genuine smile. Obviously, it wasn’t his fault Luke was trying to be cute and set them up. “Nice to see you again—what do you think of the event?”
“It’s good, but I think I’m done,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Honestly, there’s only so many times you can listen to someone tell you about their plans to become the next Apple.”
Zoe nodded in sympathy. “Tell me about it. I’ve definitely exhausted my repertoire of polite but noncommittal phrases for the evening.”
“How about the get-to-know-you networking game?” He cleared his throat and then affected an obviously fake but polite smile. “Great to meet you—tell me a little more about yourself. Did you grow up in the city? Where’s home for you?”
She laughed. She really ought to like Hugh. Tall and lean, he had the sort of dark eyes that made one think of long walks, sunsets, and fine wines. When mixed with persistent good humor and sexy hint of an accent, Hugh was undeniably a catch.
Yet she was totally uninterested.
He leaned in a few inches. “No, seriously, I’d love to know. I’m guessing you aren’t from the Bay Area. Am I right?”
“Good guess,” she replied. “I grew up in Los Angeles. But I’ve been in the Bay Area since college.” She thought about her day—hiking around Marin with the Golden Gate Bridge in the distance, and then watching the fog roll in through her apartment window. “Even if I can never afford to buy a place here, this is definitely home.”
The realization brought her up short. San Francisco did feel like home. For years, she’d thought of herself as displaced, no matter where she lived. Maybe it was because she’d felt driven out of L.A., or because she’d spent so much time working. Either way, she’d somehow managed to live here for ten years without feeling like she’d put down roots. But maybe there was more to her life here than she’d realized.
And maybe it had taken a day with Connor to help her figure that out.
“How about you?” she asked, though her mind was now decidedly back in a certain apartment on Nob Hill, where a certain person was cooking her a special dinner.
“New York is definitely home. I lived in London for about four years after college, but my heart is in the city. I’m still having a little culture shock, to be honest.”
“What do you mean?”
“There’s so much less honking here,” he said, flashing a quick smile. “And a lot less swearing. And an absurd amount of recycling. I swear, you people are obsessed with recycling.”
“It’s kind of a way of life,” she agreed. “I assume you’ve learned to separate your compostables from your trash?”
He rolled his eyes. “How many different types of trash bins can you have in one location? Compost, landfill, glass, plastics?”
“I suppose we do take it to an extreme. But we’re just trying to save the world, you know.”
“I can tell. In New York, we’re just trying to make a lot of money.”
“Oh, there’s a lot of that here, too. Have you spent much time in Palo Alto?”
“Not yet.” He cocked his head as he’d had a great idea. “Come to think of it, what I could really use is a guide. Someone who knows the area and can show me around.”
She couldn’t help but smile at his hopeful look. On another day, in another life, she probably would have been interested.
But not tonight.
She shot a quick look at her watch. Eight fifteen. Dinner was waiting.
Clearing her throat, she found Luke in the crowd moving toward them. “You’ve found a great one right here,” she said, motioning toward him. “Luke knows the city better than almost anyone. And he’s really into the outdoor stuff. You ever been rock climbing before?”
Hugh held his gaze on her for a moment before giving an easy shake to his head. “It will take me a week just to recover from our game today,” he said, his expression slightly pained. “I’m not sure I can take rock climbing.”
“Game?” Zoe’s brows knit together as she remembered Connor had mentioned he had a game today. “Wait, did you play with the guys again?”
“I did.” He rubbed his lower back. “Someone should have warned me it was so competitive. Your friend Connor laid me out. Would have been embarrassing if he wasn’t so damn good. I took it as a compliment that he went after me personally.”
Zoe blinked. Connor had gone after Hugh?
Luke stopped next to them. “Hugh, you didn’t say anything to get me in trouble with my friend Zoe, did you?”
“Always,” Zoe drawled. “So what happened at the game today? Hugh tells me that things got a little rough.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Luke said, turning to Hugh. “You think so?”
“I did spend a considerable amount of time on the ground,” Hugh said cheerfully. “I don’t think Connor likes me very much.”
“Some days he thinks he’s back in college,” Luke said. “I wouldn’t take it personally.”
“I suppose if I could dunk, I would probably do it every chance I got, too,” Hugh said.
“Are we talking about the same Connor?” Zoe asked carefully, knowing that Luke would be reading into everything she said but unable to stop herself.
“Why is that so hard to believe?” Luke asked.
“Because…” She trailed off. “Because he’s Connor. I guess I can’t really imagine him dunking. Or knocking people over.”
“Oh, he’s a monster on the court. Besides, sports bring out the inner cavemen,” Luke said. “Happens to the best of us.”
Hugh nodded. “I don’t know about the caveman part, but knocking people over is great fun. Much more fun than being knocked over.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Luke said. Across the room, a woman with long, dark hair waved at Luke. “Speaking of fun, there’s someone I need to connect with. And I mean that in the best possible way.” He shook Hugh’s hand and patted Zoe on the shoulder. “You two have a great night.”
Zoe shook her head as she watched him saunter away. “That man is completely shameless.”
“I could probably take some lessons,” Hugh said. “Which brings me back to where we were before we were interrupted. Just in case I was being too subtle about it, is there any chance you want to have dinner with me?”
“That’s really kind of you, but I’m sorry, I can’t.” Zoe didn’t have to fake the regret in her voice. Hugh seemed like a good guy. The kind of guy she should be dating.
“Can’t tonight, but maybe tomorrow?”
She couldn’t help but smile at the charming lilt to his voice. “Not tomorrow, either. I’m pretty swamped right now with work.”
“I see. Then maybe someday in the future?”
She shifted her weight, unsure how to respond. Hugh seemed like a great guy. A great guy she would have given a chance if she wasn’t dating Connor.
Except she wasn’t dating Connor. They’d been clear about that. He’d been clear about that.
“Maybe,” she said.
Hugh eyed her steadily. He pulled a business card from his pocket and handed it to her. “I get it. There’s no rush. If things calm down for you in the future, just let me know.”
Chapter Nineteen
When Zoe arrived at Connor’s place about a half an hour later, the aroma of heaven reached her even before he opened the door. “What did you make?” she asked, dropping her purse by the door and sniffing the air as he headed straight back to the kitchen. “Smells incredible.”
“Paella.” He stirred the contents of a large frying pan. “Just finishing the shrimp. You did say you like seafood?”
“Love it.” She’d come straight to his apartment from the reception and was still thinking uneasily about her interaction with Hugh. Guys like him didn’t come around every day. Luke was practically throwing the New Yorker at her, and he was usually a good judge of character.
It would be so easy to date Hugh. He wasn’t a client. He wasn’t a friend. He was uncomplicated. Attractive. Nice.
Connor, on the other hand, was nothing but complicated.
And yet, here she was.
Connor turned off the stove and set down his spoon. When he turned to face her, something in his quiet gaze sent her nerves tingling. He was doing that iceberg thing again, and she could feel so much unsaid behind his calm demeanor. Every nerve in her body went on alert, anticipating what would come next.
“You want a drink?” he asked.
“I do.” She sat on one of the stools at the island. “Apparently I’m not a wine drinker anymore. You’ve ruined me with all your whiskey.”
He tossed a dish towel over his shoulder and pulled open the door to the freezer. From there, he withdrew two glass tumblers, filled one with ice, and carried them both to the small bar cart near the kitchen. She spun on her stool to watch him.
It was strikingly difficult to cling to any hesitation when he was like this. Tight T-shirt that strained over his back and biceps. Low jeans. A hint of stubble and those dark-rimmed glasses that only made him seem more remote and somehow more dangerous.
Why had he knocked down Hugh today? Was it jealousy? Had he known the other man would ask her out?
That was crazy, of course. Connor wouldn’t have been jealous of Hugh asking her out, would he? Surely not. They were just having a fling. Nothing serious.
Even if she did find herself staring hungrily at his tall form and thinking about it being hers.
Hers.
Connor poured the ice into a cocktail shaker. Then he added whiskey and a few shakes from a couple of little bottles, and stirred it gently. Setting down the shaker, he misted something into the empty whiskey glasses, strained the cocktail into the tumblers, and then twisted a curl of lemon peel over the top before rubbing the peel around the rim.
As she watched him deftly make their drinks, her throat went dry. Why did he have this effect on her? “What did you make me?” she asked.
Besides hot.
“Sazerac,” he said as he handed her the drink. “Essential for the whiskey connoisseur.”
She took a sip. A hint of licorice met her nose first, then lemon, and finally whiskey, sweet and spicy at the same time. “That’s amazing.”
He watched her drink. “Glad you like it.”
Were her legs sliding apart?
Oh hell. She gave an internal sigh. They were.
She took another drink and let the whiskey catch fire in the back of her throat and leave heat in its wake. Connor was only a few feet away. He was so damn tall she had to look up to see him.
“How was your evening?” he asked.
“It was fine.” Some inner demon bro
ught the next words to her lips. “Hugh was there. He told me you got a little rough playing basketball today.”
“That’s possible.”
“He also asked me out,” she continued, watching his face to judge his reaction. His jaw tightened, and a muscle twitched there. It was all she needed to see.
He nodded. “I figured.”
She waited for him to ask her the inevitable question that should come next. What did you say? But he did not.
She reached out to grab the waist of his jeans and tugged him closer. “Don’t you want to know what I said?”
He shook his head. “That’s up to you. I don’t need to know.”
“I said no.”
His eyes gleamed. He set down his drink, closed his hands around her waist, and lifted her onto the counter. “You had every right to say yes.”
Was there whiskey in her veins now? There must be, because the satisfaction in his voice and the casual strength of his arms had her flushed and throbbing with heat. “I had every right to say no, too.”
Her breath caught in her throat when he began to methodically unbutton her shirt. She leaned back, supporting herself on her hands, ignoring the pinch of the cast. With the soft silk loose around her sides, she closed her eyes as he moved in to place a line of kisses from the hollow of her throat to the middle of her chest. She had put on her favorite push-up bra that afternoon, and he hummed with approval at the sight of it.
“I can’t imagine anything hotter than this.” He ran a finger along the swell of her breast. Her nipples pebbled at the touch, aching for more contact. She still had on her skirt, and he bunched it up around her thighs before sliding his hands under her bottom and lifting the fabric up around her waist. “You are incredible.”
He was staring at her matching panties, which were little more than a tiny scrap of lace and silk. Feeling both wanton and powerful, Zoe lifted her head to stare into his eyes. “So what are you going to do with me now that you have me?”
Connor took off his glasses and pulled his shirt over his head. He came in for a long, slow kiss, settling his hips between her legs so she could feel the hard length of him right at her core. “This?” he murmured.
