Now, Please

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Now, Please Page 5

by Willow Summers


  Hunter lowered me to the ground. He straightened my panties and dress before tucking himself back into his pants. His chest rose and fell with fatigue. Before he turned away, he looked at me for a long moment. His hand braced against my jaw. He kissed my forehead.

  He gave me one last glance, then looked at himself, before opening the door. “Ready?”

  I was speechless. He hadn’t shut off. Even right now, as he waited for me to exit the room, his eyes were soft and fully engaged. He wasn’t struggling to let business cover physical intimacy.

  “Olivia?”

  “Sorry! Yup.” I jumped to a start and hustled out of the room in case he fell back into his own ways with my delay.

  “That’s twice you were zoning out tonight. What’s on your mind?”

  You! “Nothing. Just trying to remember everything I need to do while we’re here.”

  “Don’t stress. Brenda is on call. She’s monitoring everything. You just need to work on Donnelley.”

  “Well, then, I’m throwing aces. I saw him twice today.”

  Hunter opened the building door and put his hand on the small of my back to guide me through. “He said. Apparently you tested the limit of the golf cart…”

  “Oh. Uh…” My face went hot. “I got lost. And was hurrying. So…”

  Hunter escorted me to the golf cart and deposited me on the passenger side.

  A little disappointed, I climbed in.

  “Men drive on dates.”

  My stomach fluttered. “I thought this was business.”

  He started the golf cart and smoothly started forward. “A business date, then. An excuse to take out a beautiful woman. Whatever you want to call it.”

  “Very unprofessional.” I laughed.

  “Did you get everything done this afternoon?” Hunter asked after a moment of silence. He parked near the line of golf carts beside the main building.

  “Yup. And don’t you dare ask if I looked at those new emails you sent—I did, and they make no sense. I’ll deal with them when I get back.”

  “Fair enough,” he said, holding the hotel door open.

  “So you talked to Bruce, then?” I said as I entered. “You didn’t need me after all.”

  I felt Hunter’s guiding touch on the small of my back. Without thinking, I veered closer to him, feeling his heat line my side and soak through my skin. His hand slid, just a little, to the side, nearing my waist to pull me closer. Warmth turned to fire.

  “He approached me. Said you were a smart young woman.” Hunter directed us around a corner. The hallway widened until it ended at the entrance of a steakhouse.

  “Oh, did you see him in one of your lectures?”

  “Briefly. He took a seat closer to my father. You loosened him up, but he thinks my father will protect his hard work. He’s fallen victim to my father’s charms.”

  “What charms? I just don’t see it.”

  “You haven’t been around him long enough.”

  “I’ve been around him plenty,” I said in a dry voice as we approached the hostess waiting behind a lectern.

  “Carlisle. Hunter.” Hunter stared at the woman.

  “Oh, yes, of course.” Her face colored. She smiled bashfully at his smoldering stare. “Please, right this way.”

  “Do you hate it when women see you as a piece of meat, or do you love being a sexpot?” I shot him a grin over my shoulder. He ignored my jest.

  Dim light and the smell of searing steaks greeted us. I had no doubt the food would be decent and prices absurd, like many chain restaurants in places like this. Still, it was better than fast food.

  We sat in the corner at a table for four. The hostess, shooting furtive glances at Hunter and ignoring me completely, dropped the menus on the table. “Your server will be right with you.”

  Hunter held my chair out before sitting opposite me. He glanced around the restaurant before letting his gaze settle on me. “You don’t look as casual as I thought you might…”

  “I’m at dinner.” I gave him a faux-scathing look. “I can’t look like a street urchin at dinner. I’m not that bad.”

  “What were you wearing today?”

  “Hoodie. Jeans. Hair in a ponytail. You know, my street uniform.”

  He gave me a single nod before glancing at his menu. I followed suit, though I knew I’d be getting filet mignon. No way was I passing up the opportunity for an excellent cut of meat—why not go big when the boss was paying? Finding what I wanted, I set the menu aside.

  “Do you own anything but dress shirts?” I asked, glancing out at the restaurant. Patrons filled most of the space, many also wearing dress shirts, a few in ties, and only a couple completely dressed down in T-shirts and jeans. Those few stuck out a little—possibly not here for the convention and wondering why the place was inundated with businessman.

  Hunter looked down at his chest. A crease worked between his eyebrows. “I rarely have need for anything but dress shirts.”

  “And now that you do, what are you? Too dressed up, that’s what.”

  Hunter glanced at my red dress and sparkling jewelry. His mouth tweaked, hinting at a smile. “I match my company.”

  Not even remotely. I saw the waitress approaching. Still, she only had eyes for Hunter. And once again, he didn’t even notice that she practically had to wipe drool off her chin while he was ordering. The whole situation was becoming comical.

  “Just wait. If we ever get a male waiter, I’m going to dazzle him to the point of distraction. I might even bat my eyelashes. Then you’ll see how annoying it is to be completely irrelevant.” I smiled as the wine came, waiting while Hunter tasted the wine and gave his approval.

  “You are not completely irrelevant, Olivia, and yes, that would be annoying.”

  We sipped our wine in silence until I asked, “What’s in store for tomorrow?”

  “You have the afternoon free again. Do you want to get up with me for breakfast, or order it in your room?”

  My eyebrows rose as an excited smile drifted up my face. “I’ve never had room service! I think I’ll do that.”

  “You’ll find that the food isn’t as fresh and hot as you might like,” Hunter said in distaste.

  “Don’t care. It’s the idea of the thing.”

  “Here we are.” The waitress appeared with a tray and a stand. She set one on the other before serving our meals. The delicious aroma of seared meat made my mouth water. I picked up my knife and fork while Hunter received his plate and wasted no time taking a bite.

  “Hunter.”

  Hearing the voice, we glanced up as Bruce strolled up still wearing the jeans and shirt I had seen him in earlier. He had a book in his hand. “I won’t disturb your meal—”

  Hunter wiped his mouth and half stood. “Join us.”

  “No, no. I’ve just finished. I wanted to say I’ll be in the bar, if you and Livy want to stop by for a drink.”

  “Of course.” Hunter remained standing. “Which bar?”

  “There’s more than one?” Bruce’s mouth turned down in a funny-looking frown, but his eyes glittered. He looked at me. “I think they assume businessmen are alcoholics.”

  “They might be right,” I said.

  His booming laugh drew eyes around us. He didn’t seem to notice as he refocused on Hunter. “The one just off the lobby. That’s the only one I knew about.”

  “There is another, less trafficked bar toward the back of the building. It’s quieter, and it’s closer to our transportation. If you don’t mind, I’d rather not make Livy walk more than she has to. She’s trying to break in new shoes, and the effect on her heels is never pretty.”

  “Of course!” Bruce looked at me in seriousness before glancing under the table. “Oh yeah, those’ll wear a hole in your feet for sure! My wife does nothing but complain when she wears a new pair of heels. Why you women put yourselves through it, I’ll never know.”

  “I never used to, but sneakers don’t look great with a dress,” I said in a li
ght tone.

  “Well, that’s just an opinion.” Bruce leaned down and rubbed my shoulder in jest. “Okay, sure, I’ll meet you there. Great catching you—I’m interested in hearing more of your ideas.”

  “Ask him for a flow chart—he probably has one.” I laughed.

  “Right, right.” Bruce gave a thumbs-up. “Now sit, sit. Enjoy your dinner. The steak is pretty good.” He turned, then flinched as a bustling waitress nearly mowed him down. He apologized and continued on.

  “Clever, using me as a scapegoat to get more intimate with him,” I said as Hunter retook his seat.

  “Intimate doesn’t matter—my father will be there, no matter where there is.” Hunter’s eyes hit mine in complete seriousness. “Less walking would be more comfortable for you. I knew Bruce would understand.”

  I looked down at my food, touched by his concern. To cover the moment, in case he tried to absolve his guilt with another warning about breaking my heart, I said, “Is your father as good at business as you are? You know, the planning and long-term goals and all that?”

  “I surpassed the teacher while I was still in school. He’s shortsighted and vain. I focus less on short-term gain. It takes longer for my plans to come to fruition, but once they do, I turn heads.”

  “And you’re turning heads now?”

  “Yes. Mostly. But I’m not as popular with some of the board members. They want immediate results. It’s stunted some things.”

  “Sounds like an uphill battle.”

  Hunter reached for his glass with a ghost of a smile. “Yes.”

  We fell into silence for a moment before I said, “So what’s the deal with not smiling? You don’t like my jokes?”

  A glimmer of sorrow haunted Hunter’s gaze. “I fell out of practice, I guess.”

  “Life can do that. Kick you in the balls.”

  “Yes,” Hunter said again. It was his turn to look down at his food. “It can.”

  I waited, hoping he’d say a little more. I wanted him to confide in me, to offload some of the pain from his past. I wanted to help him heal. But his gaze stayed downturned as he reached for his glass and took a sip. It was going to fester a while longer.

  We finished dinner and paid the check. Hunter was clearly eager to get to Bruce, but he didn’t rush me. He waited for my decision on dessert, then asked if I was sure I wanted to turn down the chocolate. I really didn’t, but I was doing the right thing. I was getting paid for this trip and I should be putting business before chocolate. It was one of life’s cruel jokes.

  When everything was squared away, we made our way to the bar.

  “Your father might not have found him yet,” I said in a supportive tone.

  “He has an assistant that watches potential marks pretty closely. He would’ve tried to catch Bruce at dinner. Failing that, he would’ve followed soon after Bruce left. I just hope not too much damage has been done.”

  “Won’t it be a little obvious that your father is following him around like a begging dog?”

  “He’s sly. He’s had a lot of experience in this sort of thing.”

  “I think you give the man too much credit.”

  We came upon an area with small, circular tables positioned around the floor near a short bar with glittering bottles of alcohol on glass shelves. A man with a white apron and a large belly shook a silver canister behind the bar.

  Bruce sat at one of the small tables. Three other white bucket seats surrounded the table, one of them occupied by Hunter’s nemesis.

  “I will say that it’s scary how well you know your dad,” I murmured.

  “He taught me his tactics. He wasn’t impressed when I called them unethical and refused to follow his teaching.”

  The hairs stood up on my arms with the viciousness in Hunter’s voice, and the harshness of his tone. We walked up to the table, me smiling, Hunter doing his customary blank face.

  Bruce glanced up with a troubled expression. Upon recognizing us, he stood and put out his hand. “Sit, please. I guess I don’t have to ask if you know Rodge.”

  Rodge laughed good-naturedly. He made no move to leave. Instead, he rested his hand on the back of the chair next to him. “Please, have a seat, Olivia. It’s nice to see you again.”

  His slimy voice curdled my smile. I stepped back as if the chair was on fire. “I’ll just get a round of drinks, shall I?”

  “Of course not. Sit here,” Hunter said in his commanding voice, pulling out the seat next to Bruce.

  I scurried over and took the seat gratefully, noticing Rodge’s hand slowly slide off the top of the seat as his eyes turned hard. A predatory smile graced his face as he ticked his head in a “whatever you wish” sort of way.

  “What can I get everyone?” Hunter hadn’t dropped the roughness from his voice.

  “They have a cute little waitress that comes around,” Rodge said easily, crossing a leg over his ankle. “Sit, son. Join us. We were just discussing why I wouldn’t lay anyone off if I was granted the buyout.”

  Hunter sat without expression. He glanced at me. “Do you need anything?”

  “I’ll just wait for a drink.”

  “Yes, talking business in front of disinterested parties would be incredibly boring.” Bruce turned in his seat and put a finger in the air. The waitress bustled over immediately.

  “I’ll have another.” Bruce held up his empty glass.

  Rodge tapped his glass and gave the woman a wink.

  “Another?” She nodded at him, answering her own question. Her attention turned to Hunter. He looked at me.

  “Do you have Blue Moon?” I asked.

  “Blue Moon?” She nodded at me before looking back at Hunter again. She’d answered her own question again.

  “Your best scotch, neat,” Hunter said.

  “Please,” I muttered.

  “What’s that?” Bruce asked as the woman moved away, leaning toward me.

  “Oh.” I bit my lip before allowing a sheepish smile. “Just finishing Hunter’s sentence. You know…the social etiquette thing…” I scratched my cheek to put a barrier between Hunter’s eyes and my red face.

  Bruce’s booming laugh rocketed out across the mostly empty bar area.

  “My son has never had great manners,” Rodge said with laughter in his voice.

  As Hunter’s expression darkened, I waved Rodge away. “Not at all. The man is a first-grade gentleman in most things. He’s the only man who’s ever stood when I got up, or pulled my chair out and waited until I sat. That’s old school, right there. He’s just used to giving orders.” I leaned back as the waitress came back with drinks. “Just have to get used to it. Everyone has their quirks.”

  “That is true.” Bruce took his beer from the waitress. She put the rest of the drinks on the table and wandered away.

  “So how have you found the lectures so far?” Bruce asked Hunter.

  Hunter reached for his scotch unhurriedly. “For a beginner, perhaps they have some value. But I find some of the theories rather limiting.”

  “You haven’t learned anything, then?” Rodge asked with a straight face. His eyes glimmered as he swirled his whisky lazily. The ice cube clinked off the sides of the glass as it swam around. He hid the tension with his son surprisingly easily.

  Hunter’s jaw tightened. Clearly he found hiding the tension more difficult. “No, and I doubt you did either. Hopefully the topics will prove more interesting tomorrow. You were smart for missing a few, Bruce.” Hunter took a sip and put his glass back on the table.

  “Yes. I got to work on my hobby without my wife nagging that I need to get out of my office.” Bruce nodded at me. “Did you update?”

  “Yeah. But, honestly, I didn’t see any difference.”

  “It was more the early levels. You’re almost finished with the game. Smart girl.”

  Rodge leaned forward with just the trace of a smile, his eyes taking on that predatory quality again. Clearly he didn’t like being left out of a conversation. I had no doubt h
e’d try to interrupt as soon as he could. People like him weren’t happy unless they were dominating the conversation. If they weren’t talking at you, they were talking over you.

  Polite me would’ve tried to include everyone, but this was business. I needed to keep Bruce’s focus. Besides, Rodge sucked. I loved having an excuse to verbally spit in his eye.

  “I told you, I need to shut off from time to time,” I said to Bruce. “And I can program, too. I can see how you set the game up, to some extent. I’ve learned your rules, so now it’s just a matter of exploiting them.”

  “You cheat!” Bruce pointed at me with a beaming smile.

  “I analyze,” I corrected.

  “She’d be great in business,” Rodge said, leaning closer to Bruce. “If only I’d found her first.”

  Bruce didn’t acknowledge him. His eyes had taken on that focused gaze that meant he was thinking about his hobby. “You’re right in the middle of my age demographic. I would love your insight on a new game I’m designing. Especially because, right now, it’s geared more toward men. My daughter hates it. Maybe you can help me with content, and then proof the bugs that always crop up…”

  “Oh, that’s right—she’s in computers, correct, Olivia?” Rodge asked. He tried to catch my eye. “You went to Stanford, didn’t you?”

  With some effort, I ignored the direct question. I didn’t even glance in Rodge’s direction. Focusing solely on Bruce, I said, “Yeah, sure, if you want. I don’t have oodles of time, but I should definitely get a hobby. It would be nice to use my education.”

  “Stanford, huh?” Bruce nodded, a gleam to his eyes. “Yes. This could work.”

  “What I have for you tomorrow can wait, Livy,” Hunter said in a non-concerned tone. “You’ll have plenty of time to speak with Bruce.”

  “That’d be fun to sit in on,” Rodge tried again, leaning way forward in his chair.

  In contrast, Hunter leaned way back, crossing his ankle over his knee. Utterly relaxed. He was letting me lead.

  Bruce snatched his phone off the table and started pecking at the screen. “I have a couple-hour stretch.” He glanced at me in excitement, like a kid discussing building a tree house. “Give me your room number and I’ll call you tomorrow.”

 

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