Georgia sipped her water, called herself crazy for being here, and worked to settle down her nerves enough to at least appear to be waiting patiently. Some forty minutes later, after she’d played two rounds of her favorite game on her phone, she promptly decided she’d been polite long enough.
Leaving the food untouched, she rose from her seat, put her unused napkin by her tiny unused plastic plate, and started across the room. An out-of-breath Hollywood nearly knocked her over as he propelled her backwards into the cafeteria. A tittering of laughter from those watching them brought out her worst reaction possible.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing? Let go of me.”
Hollywood had the audacity to look at her and laugh. He turned her loose but didn’t move away. “I’m trying to stop you from leaving. I was with a client. We ran a little over.”
“You’re forty minutes late. That’s more than a little. The ice in my water glass melted completely while I was waiting.”
“Melted ice? Is that your justification for abandoning your dates?” Brent asked.
Georgia crossed her arms, which made her breasts strain against the snug shirt, because she really was a bit bigger up top than Trudy. The action of serving up her girls for his eager gaze earned her a chuckle, and a leering you’re-the-only-woman-in-the-world smile that would have made any female of any age forgive the bastard.
“Since I don’t do dates outside of those I get blackmailed into, I can’t properly answer that question. You’re the only dating expert here.”
“I’m not the expert you think I am,” Brent insisted.
He reached out a hand and put it on her arm. It felt really good to her, so Georgia stepped away. His bad behavior would not be rewarded with her total capitulation. Partial, maybe… but not total. No way, José. She was not buying his charming bad boy routine ever again.
“Please, Georgia. Stay at least for coffee. I still have an hour before my next appointment. I’m sorry I kept you waiting so long.”
Glancing around, she saw concerned glares directed her way. She wondered what kind of female riot a total brush-off would cause. What in the fresh hell was this shit? Did Hollywood have every woman in existence under his spell?
“Maybe I’m the only woman in the world who would chastise your bad manners, but I don’t give a rat’s ass. Didn’t you think of sending me a text to let me know you were detained?”
Her retort had him taking a step back. Hollywood thought about it for a moment and then shrugged. “I guess I didn’t think of it… but you’re right. I could have taken the time and let you know what I was doing.”
And just what was she supposed to say to that straight-up admission? Georgia hadn’t expected a mostly sincere apology. Damn it. Couldn’t he just consistently be the ass she thought he was? It would make this so much easier.
“Fine,” Georgia said tightly. She turned and trudged back to the table, ignoring the whispering sighs of relief going on. Her eyesight might be going as she got older, but nothing was wrong with her hearing.
A fresh glass of ice water appeared in front of her before Hollywood even had the chance to get seated. Georgia’s begrudging thank you drew a wicked smile from the woman serving it.
A cup of coffee and a cream pitcher was put in front of her very late date. Hollywood said nothing as he fixed it the way he wanted. She watched, her gaze mesmerized by his elegant fingers stirring the cream into the fragrant black liquid.
Brent lifted the cup and took a sip. “Hello, Georgia,” he said softly, lowering the cup to the table.
“Hello, Hollywood,” Georgia answered back automatically.
“You look very nice today in your red shirt. Your choice of hair color is very flattering with all those shades of gray and silver too. I’m honored you took the time for our coffee date.”
Tempted to lie that she hadn’t gone to any trouble at all, Georgia squirmed in her chair to keep from fibbing. “I prefer to let God choose my hair color. He’s the ultimate stylist.”
Georgia was grateful when Hollywood chuckled at her comment. Usually only her closest friends laughed at such irreverent snark. He could have easily seen it as a subtle dig at his godlike profession, and she was suddenly glad he hadn’t. Why was she always the worst version of herself with this man?
“Okay, I confess. Mariah’s responsible for the haircut and the highlights which account for at least three of the shades. I had to hold the woman back from the ten or twelve she’d planned on giving me. I’ve truly no desire to look like every other painted blonde.”
“You don’t,” Brent said. “Far from it. You look… perfect. That’s the only word I can think of that fits.”
His sincere sounding statement had her swallowing hard, especially when accompanied by his encompassing look of pleasure as his gaze roamed her face and hair. She didn’t find her voice again until his gaze dropped to her chest and then fled quickly. Much more of that sort of nonsense and her face would match her shirt.
“Does that sort of stuff get you laid as often as I keep thinking it probably does?”
Brent grinned as he lowered his cup. He grabbed a sandwich from the tray. “Wow, I am really late. The bread is already stale. These usually hold up a little better.”
“You’re spoiled,” Georgia accused, noticing he had deftly avoided answering her original question. She had no choice but accept his redirect as a big, fat yes.
To her utter surprise though, Brent nodded at her spoiled accusation.
“I am. Spoiled… and bored with females in general.” His gaze came to her as he finished the sandwich. “Except when I’m with you. Then I come alive. It’s the strangest damn thing.”
Georgia laughed at the wonder in his voice. She wasn’t even sure why. Maybe it was flattering. Or maybe it was just hilariously ironic. “God, you need serious help,” she told him.
Her heart beat strongly against her ribs when he grinned and laughed. His self-effacing nod was her undoing. “Damn you, Hollywood. I don’t want to like you.”
“Welcome to my world… except I’ve moved on in my thinking. I’ve gone from liking you to considering how on earth I’m going to convince you to get naked with me,” Hollywood smirked.
“Stop that,” Georgia ordered, glaring without the anger she should have been feeling over his admission. For sure, her pulse should not be racing with excitement. “That is never happening.”
“Good thing I’m an optimist,” he said.
She watched him suspiciously as he lifted a petit four. “Do you like chocolate?” he asked, holding it where she could inspect it.
When Georgia nodded politely, he set the delicate pastry on her plate. He chose another and put a strawberry one on his plate before looking at her again.
“Chef Trudy Baker makes these for me. I did some work for a friend of hers. It was pro bono, but Chef Baker insists on paying me with food. I can’t refuse her offerings. I get a personal delivery every month. They freeze well. The woman’s a magician in the kitchen.”
“Trudy? She’s also a tight-lipped, tight-ass hussy,” Georgia fumed. “Trudy never said anything about knowing you personally. I’m wearing her clothes today and she never said shit about knowing you when I borrowed them. How do you know her? Did you date her too?”
Her comment earned her a masculine snort. She had no idea what it meant, other than it didn’t seem to be any sort of admission. She was starting to read him fairly well.
“No. I didn’t date her, Ms. Paranoid. She is friends with, or used to be friends with, one of my ex-wives. Chef Trudy Baker is a great woman.”
Georgia lifted both hands in the air. “Then why in hell aren’t you sitting across the table from her instead of me? She’s… she’s…” Georgia searched for the nicest words she could think of to set him straight. “Trudy’s way more your type.”
The dessert paused for a full three seconds on its way to sliding between his perfect white teeth. Eventually Hollywood chewed, but the whole time he wa
s staring at her. She didn’t like it when he looked at her that way… or at least she didn’t want to like it.
“We had no chemistry,” he finally said. “I never had it with any of the women I married after Henna’s mother. I wasn’t aware of that until after I met you. Like I said… you make me feel alive.”
“Chemistry?” She spat the word at him.
Brent laughed at her frown, leaned over, and picked up the dessert on her plate. He lifted it to her mouth.
“Eat,” he ordered gruffly. “Maybe the sweetness of this little cake will help with the sting of my honesty and your friend’s betrayal. I have no excuse, but imagine Chef Trudy Baker keeping our illicit friendship from you. The nerve of her.”
“Stop making fun of me,” Georgia ordered, smelling the tempting chocolate. It was worse because she knew exactly how good it would taste.
When Hollywood waved it under her nose over and over, she finally leaned forward and took a tiny nibble. He laughed at her action, so she swallowed and leaned again to take the rest into her a mouth all at once. His fingers scraped against her teeth and she drew sharply away at his shiver.
Sensual awareness ran through her instantly, too strong to deny as she held his sexually interested gaze. Bemused by her own reaction, she watched as the man across from her inhaled deeply and put his now unsteady hand back on his coffee cup.
Her mental debate with herself over their attraction was not going well. Her conscience was shaking her head at her body’s denials and laughing hysterically.
“It’s a good thing I don’t have do any surgery this afternoon,” Brent finally said, breaking the spell.
Georgia put her hand over her mouth as she chewed. There were a thousand retorts she wanted to make about what had just happened, but not a one was possible with a mouth full of Trudy’s delicious cake. Hell, the woman was supposed to be her friend, not Hollywood’s.
And Hollywood was supposed to a be a jerk. In some ways, he was, but he was so much more too. It was the more that made her nervous. Just like now, when he was leaning back in his chair and staring at her.
“What we have is what I meant by chemistry. It’s been missing from all my relationships until you. I desperately want in your pants, Georgia Bates. It’s been a long damn time since I’ve felt that way about a woman. So here’s your out. If you aren’t equally willing to see where our physical chemistry takes us, then consider our date… called off.”
Georgia picked up her water and drank, giving herself time before she tried to speak. This was the best possible outcome of this farcical coffee date. Wasn’t it? Hollywood was giving her an honest out. All she had to do was pretend to be unaffected by him.
She set down her glass harder than she’d intended. Probably not a good way to show she was calm. “What about Mariah?” she asked.
Brent shrugged. “I guess she’ll lose a client until I need a companion for some event again. I’ll still spread the good word about her business, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“My daughter is hard to fool. If you quit getting dates from her, she’ll know I’m the damn reason,” Georgia complained.
“Woman, I’m giving you an out,” Brent declared, waving a hand dismissively. “Isn’t that what you want? To not go out with me?”
“No,” Georgia retorted. “I mean, yes… but… no. I want things to be like they were before you decided we had chemistry.”
Hollywood stared at her for long moments and then howled with laughter. It went on so long it made her squirm in her seat again. His glare wasn’t mean when he got control of his mirth. No, it was determined… scarily determined. That worried her more… and made her stomach flutter like it had the first time she’d laid eyes on him.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Georgia. That’s not how chemistry works. I want you. Obviously, only you. You’re the name I call out in the shower these days.”
“No!” Georgia denied. “No, I’m not.”
Brent leaned across the table. “Yes. Yes, you are.”
“I’m sixty-two,” Georgia hissed, leaning over the table. “Men don’t feel that way about women my age.”
“Well, you don’t know everything then. I feel that way about you… and you can’t control that. So… tough shit,” he said, sounding pleased he’d come up with a swearing answer.
Georgia leaned back in her seat, stunned further when he rose to leave. Hollywood got several steps away from the table before she finally found her voice.
“Wait… Hollywood, wait,” she said quickly, needing to stop him. Why though? Why did her chest hurt at the idea that she might have truly offended him?
Georgia stood too, and walked to stand in front of him. “Keep your out. I don’t need it. I’m not afraid to date you.”
“Really?”
She blew out a breath and glared. “Alright, I’m lying. Of course I’m scared to death of this crap, but I’ll be damned if I let that be the reason we call off a simple date. I made a promise and I intend to keep it. So when do you want to do this…” Georgia waved her ringless hand in front of him.“… thing you want to do.”
“Are you talking about our date? Or me getting into your pants? The answer to the second question is now. I want to do that now.”
Her hand smacked his chest without thinking about it. “I’m talking about the stupid date,” she hissed between clenched teeth.
His disbelieving laughter travelled over her, getting caught by every nerve ending she possessed. Before she could process how weak it made her knees, Hollywood’s lips were brushing across hers with the sure precision of a man who’d been planning every nuance of it.
Then he turned and simply walked away from her.
“I’ll text you the details… about our date,” he said wryly, calling the statement out over his shoulder.
Georgia stood there watching him leave with every female’s startled gaze locked onto her. Hollywood had kissed her—God, nearly frenched her—right in front of all the cafeteria workers.
“If I live to be a hundred, I will never understand that man,” she protested, touching her mouth.
It was the loud and very satisfied giggling of those watching her that sent Georgia back to her seat to retrieve her purse. Once again, Hollywood had played her for a fool and gotten his way.
Chapter Three
“How was coffee?”
“Fine.”
“How did Brent treat you?”
“Fine.”
“So when’s the big date happening?” Mariah asked. She dropped a healthy amount of whole wheat pasta onto her mother’s plate before covering it with fragrant sauce. John’s catering service was amazing. She was eating well these days.
Georgia looked around the nice kitchen. “This place is wonderful, Mariah. Where’s John this evening?”
“Working late,” Mariah said quickly, not wanting to share more. Undercover only worked if it was kept a real secret. John was going to be away at least four days. She was getting used to his occasional disappearances, but she still missed him when he was gone.
Georgia looked down at the food her daughter had set in front of her. “Smells great.”
Her lack of enthusiasm must have shown more than she thought because Mariah frowned. “What’s wrong? Did I give you too big of a portion?” Mariah asked.
“No… and don’t look at me in that assessing shrink sort of way. I really don’t know when we’re going out. Hollywood said he would text me the details, but he hasn’t been in touch yet.”
“Text you?” Mariah sat with her own plate. “That doesn’t sound like Brent. He usually has it all figured out. He’s a contingency planner and very particular. I’ve often wondered if he was a bit OCD.”
Georgia sighed and picked up her fork. “I’m like that too… usually… but that doesn’t seem the case with our situation. I don’t even know what day or which week. I guess Hollywood has to clear his social calendar first. I refuse to worry about it. I’ll hear from him when I hear from him. I�
��ll worry about it then.”
Mariah ate in silence for a few beats. “What’s wrong, Mom? You know you don’t have to do this. A date is supposed to make you happy and light-hearted, not drive you crazy. Let me tell Brent you’ve changed your mind about going out with him. You’re not my client. You’re my mother. He’ll have to understand.”
Georgia snorted. “No. This is Hollywood we’re talking about. He always makes me crazy.” She ate, chewed, swallowed… and then sighed. “I think I make him crazy too. That doesn’t make me feel better though. It just complicates things.”
Mariah put an arm on the table and leaned her face against her fist. “The people who bring the most change into our lives always seem to be the ones that make us most uncomfortable.”
Georgia laughed. “Thank you for the analysis, Dr. Bates. And here I thought I was only getting spaghetti for dinner.”
Mariah chuckled. “I’m your child, Georgia, which means I’m impervious to your snark. Does Brent have you so rattled that you feel the need to get defensive with your friends too? Or is it just me?”
Georgia groaned in frustration and forced herself to take a bite before answering. “What friends? Turns out Trudy knows Hollywood personally and she never said a word. I had to hear it from him.”
Mariah shrugged. “Smart woman. I imagine that kept you from grilling her for hours. I’d have done the same thing in her case if I didn’t want to color your impression of Brent.”
Georgia thought about it and decided that was fair. Trudy protected people’s reputations with carefully worded explanations. Not for a moment did she believe Trudy would have given Hollywood any dirt on her either.
Her sigh was one of concession. “You’re probably right about the reason Trudy stayed quiet, but it was embarrassing as hell to hear about their long time friendship while I was wearing her clothes and eating her damn petit fours.”
Never A Dull Moment Page 2
