“Because then I’ll know if you’re likely to agree to go out with me or not.”
Grace shook her head. “We’ve been over this. My answer hasn’t changed.”
Owen tilted his head to the side. His hair was a little long and fell across his forehead. “And yet here you are with me now. On a pseudo date.”
“This is a business meeting.”
“With coffee and food and conversations about our families. I don’t know. Seems kind of date-like to me, don’t you think?”
“No.” Grace adjusted her napkin on her lap, though it hadn’t shifted since she’d first put it there. But she was lying again. Here at a beautiful restaurant with the hushed conversation of other couples around them and the gorgeous view of the water, it did feel like a date.
“I like you,” Owen said.
“You don’t know me.” And she wasn’t going out of her way to change that. Owen Ford was dangerous. Dangerous to her life both professionally and personally.
“I’d like to get to know you.”
Grace ignored the flash of heat under her skin. She wasn’t here to be cajoled and flattered. Not even by a man who made her teeth sweat. “I’d like to talk about the party.”
“We can do both.” Owen leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. Grace hated that she noticed the muscles in them. Probably from swinging a golf club. “You answer a question about yourself and then I’ll answer a question about the party.”
“No, that’s not how this is going to go.” She was sure this had worked for him before. Probably many times in the past, but she was no starry-eyed twenty-year-old awed by his charm and banter. She was almost thirty and she had a job to do. “We’ll discuss your ideas for the party while we enjoy a nice meal and then I’ll return to my office and draw up some plans, which I’ll send to you for review.”
“That doesn’t sound nearly as much fun.”
He was right, but to Grace, it sounded infinitely safer.
CHAPTER FOUR
GRACE EXHALED SLOWLY, pushing thoughts of her date—no, it wasn’t a date—her meeting with Owen out of her mind, and focused on her line budget. Because the breakdown of costs for the engagement party Owen wanted to throw was far more important and interesting than how he’d rocked those dark jeans. Okay, more important, at least. And if she just hurried up and finished the stupid budget, she could work on something else. Something unrelated to Owen Ford and his family.
She fanned her face and checked the numbers on the page again, but her mind wandered back to those jeans and the way his butt looked in them. Dangerous ground. Would have been dangerous even if he was her type, which luckily, he was not.
Grace wasn’t looking for a playboy or a casual relationship. In fact, she wasn’t looking for anything right now. Not with the summer upon her and an absolute flurry of weddings over the next eight weeks. Each one would be given the same amount of attention and care because each couple had trusted her with their special day.
And that’s what she should be thinking about. Not Owen’s butt.
She actually managed to lose herself in the numbers for a couple of hours, making notations and edits. Using what she’d learned from previous weddings to make the next one better.
But when her phone rang, the ringtone an elegant measure of Beethoven that she used for work, her brain snapped to customer-service mode and seated there. Even when she saw the caller was Owen.
“Mr. Ford. How can I help you?”
“I thought we agreed to be on a first-name basis, Grace.”
The way he said her name sent a brief curl of pleasure into her bones. In his mouth, her name wasn’t cool or patrician. It wasn’t formal or chaste. It was soft and sexy. The kind of name a woman slipped on when she wanted to seduce someone.
Grace pushed the pleasure away and focused on business. “Well, then, Owen, what can I do for you?”
“I wanted to set up a time for you to come to the wine bar. See the space and layout, so you can get an idea for it.”
“Great.” She was already pulling up her calendar, which was synced to all her devices. “When were you thinking?”
“How about tonight?”
Grace’s fingers stilled on the keyboard. There was no reason she couldn’t go tonight. She had nothing planned and it would be better to see the space now, so she could start drawing up options immediately. And yet, she didn’t confirm. Because she’d just spent the morning having brunch with him.
“Unless you’ve got a hot date?”
“No.” Now, why had she answered that query immediately? Almost as if she was worried he’d think she was unavailable to go on a hot date with him. Which she was. She cleared her throat. “Tonight would be fine.”
But even as she took down directions on location and time, her mind continued to wander. And every time, it flashed on that hot butt in those hot jeans.
Not. Good.
* * *
OWEN SWIPED A CLOTH along the already clean bar, earning a glare from Stef, the bartender he’d poached from La Petite Bouchée, the restaurant owned and cheffed by his soon-to-be sister-in-law. It hadn’t been an intentional poaching.
He’d needed some extra help for the summer and Stef had wanted the extra hours to help pay for her next semester of schooling. It wasn’t his fault that Stef loved Elephants and working for him so much that she’d asked if she could make the position permanent. And it wasn’t as if he’d left Julia or her restaurant short-staffed. He’d interviewed and found a qualified candidate to replace Stef at the restaurant before getting Julia’s agreement. Not that this stopped her from claiming that he owed her.
But hell. He’d not only attended a wedding-planning session with her, he was going to make sure she had an amazing engagement party, too. And he was going to keep it a surprise. So, really, she owed him.
He swiped the cloth across the bar again, this time earning not only a glare from Stef, but also a comment. “You sure you got everything now?”
“No.” And he wiped again, grinning as he did.
Stef rolled her eyes and plucked the cloth out of his hand, replacing it with a glass of water. “Go,” she told him. “Mingle. I’ll make sure the bar top stays clean.” She would, as well as juggling multiple drink orders, keeping an eye on the customers and prepping the bar for tomorrow.
Owen nodded and began to move around the room, but he kept one eye on the door and when it finally opened and Grace walked in, he smiled.
She looked good. But then, in Owen’s opinion, she always did. Her pale gray jeans were tight and paired with a black T-shirt and a dark blue jacket with white polka dots. Her hair was down, the blond strands spilling over her shoulders, loose and free.
“Miss Monroe. Twice in one weekend. Are you stalking me?”
The pinched look around her mouth softened just as he’d hoped. “If you’ll recall, you issued me a personal invitation. And the preferred honorific is Ms.”
Owen offered his arm, pleased when she barely hesitated before taking it. “Well, Ms. Monroe, let’s start the tour.”
She loosened up a little more as he took her around, pleased to show off the bar and his hard work to improve it. But when he asked her to stay for a drink, she declined.
“I really can’t.”
“Big day of wedding planning tomorrow?” By the way she looked up at him and then looked away, Owen knew that wasn’t it.
“Something like that.”
His natural inclination was to let it go. He’d found the subtle-nudge approach to be usually far more successful than a direct request. But he had a feeling that with Grace, subtlety would get him a whole lot of nothing. “Just one drink. It’s early.”
She checked her watch. “I still have work to do tonight.”
“All work and no play...�
�
“You sound like my mother.”
“Then she must be a wise woman.” And Grace was wavering. “Have you eaten?”
“Not since brunch.”
And there was his answer. She wanted to stay; he merely had to provide the opportunity. “Then consider this a working dinner. You can try some of the foods. Research for your party.”
She tilted her head to look at him. Her blond hair, free of its sleek knot, fell around her shoulders. Owen would bet money that it would feel as cool and silky as it looked.
“I won’t bite,” he joked and was rewarded with a rosy flush coloring her cheeks.
“Owen—”
He cut her off. “It doesn’t have to be long. I have some pull in the kitchen. You’ll be back working before the sun sets.” Seeing as that was a couple of hours away, he figured it was a safe promise.
“Owen,” she said again. But when he broke out his patented sad face, she capitulated. “No more than an hour.”
“Sixty minutes or less.” Unless he could talk her into changing her mind. It wasn’t exactly a date, but it wasn’t exactly not a date, either.
Or it wasn’t, until they were halfway through their meal and she said, “You realize this is only a business relationship.” Which it clearly wasn’t or she wouldn’t feel the need to clarify.
Owen simply smiled and popped another bite of food in his mouth.
Grace put down her fork, carefully and quietly so that he doubted there would have been a sound even if the bar was dead. “I shouldn’t have stayed.”
He quickly swallowed his mouthful. “Of course you should have. You were hungry and we have food here.”
“You’re my client.”
“This again? I’m not a client. I’m not the one getting married.” And never would be. There was nothing wrong with marriage. For other people. Maybe he’d change his mind someday. But not today.
“Close enough.” She pushed her plate toward the center of the table. “I should go.”
“Stay.” He placed a hand over hers. “Just until you’ve finished eating.”
Grace slid her hand out from under his. “I’m done.” She slid out of the booth. “If there’s anything wedding-or engagement-related, please call me.”
“But, otherwise, lose your number?”
Her smile wasn’t cheerful. “I wouldn’t be that harsh.”
But it was basically what she meant. Owen ignored the disappointment pooling in his veins and slid out of the booth, too. “I’ll walk you out.” Just because she’d told him he didn’t have a chance with her was no excuse not to be a gentleman.
“That’s not necessary.”
“Grace.” And this time there was no underlying teasing in his tone. “I’d like to.”
She nodded and anchored her purse over her shoulder. No chance of her leaving it behind, so he’d have an excuse to call her.
They walked toward the large wooden door. Neither of them spoke until they were outside.
“So.” Grace’s fingers curled around the strap of her shoulder bag. “I guess this is it.”
Owen kept his tone light. He was good at keeping things light. “I’m sure I’ll see you at the party and the wedding.”
She nodded, but didn’t expand on his comment and Owen nodded, too. He was interested in her, attracted to her, but if she didn’t feel the same way, he wasn’t going to throw himself at her.
“And I’ll call you if I have any engagement-party questions.”
“Please do.”
He waited until she was a block away and out of sight before he headed back inside.
The table they’d been at was untouched—no doubt his staff expected them to return and finish the mostly full plates. Owen bussed it himself, letting his hands work while his mind whirred.
Not that he had a whole lot to think about. Grace had made it clear that she preferred to act as though the attraction between them didn’t exist.
“Shot down by the blonde?” Stef asked when he brought the half-filled water glasses to dump at the bar.
Owen noticed Mal sitting at the bar grinning. “I wasn’t shot down.” He thought about that for a moment. “No, you’re right. She totally shot me down.” He was man enough to admit it.
Mal gave him a healthy pat on the shoulder. “Do you need a moment to cry into your water?”
“I might.”
She and Stef shared a snicker.
“I’m glad you can find my humiliation amusing. I may have to swear off women forever.” When neither of them said anything, Owen helped out. “See, this is the part where you both assure me that it’s her issue that has nothing to do with me and that I’m an excellent catch who any woman would be lucky to date.”
Silence.
“Nothing?” he asked. “Seriously? Not even a consolation hug?”
“There, there.” Mal patted him on the back. “Now you know how all those women you loved and left felt.”
“I didn’t love and leave. It was always a mutual decision.”
“Is that what they thought?”
The conversation had taken on a serious tone and Owen was glad when Stef moved to the other end of the bar to check on her customers.
“Of course they did.” Just because there hadn’t been long, drawn-out discussions on the topic didn’t mean they hadn’t been in agreement.
“You sure?” Mal tapped a finger against the side of her glass. Her gaze drifted. “Sometimes you might think you know the other person’s feelings only to realize at the worst possible moment that you were wrong.”
And they were veering again. Owen absorbed her words fully, then asked, “Are we talking about you now?”
Mal sat up, her attention snapping back into place, that raw emotion he’d briefly glimpsed ducking back under a neutral look. “No, I’m simply pointing out that getting shot down might be good for your personal growth.”
“Not that I’m admitting to anything, but I think I’ve done enough growing.” And if Grace wanted to pretend that this sizzle between them wasn’t there, she was certainly within her rights to do so. Didn’t mean he wouldn’t be available should she change her mind, but then he was good like that. Always looking out for the happiness of others.
Owen smiled at his sister. “So what brings you out here tonight? Boredom? Ennui?”
Mal smirked. “You know those words mean the same thing.”
He slid onto a bar stool, keeping one eye out for a patron who might use it instead. “Yes. But one is all fancy and French.”
Mal glanced around. “Someone you’re trying to show off for?”
“Just practicing.”
* * *
GRACE KNEW THE engagement party would go perfectly. At least, on the surface, which was all that mattered.
No one cared if the DJ’s car broke down or if the fish they’d selected for the entrée was unavailable due to a typhoon last week. They didn’t care if there weren’t enough seats for everyone or if there was one lone bathroom for three hundred guests and someone had just thrown up all over it. All they cared was that Grace took care of it.
Her job was as much about minimizing damage on the day of the event as the actual planning. And she took great care to control as many variables as possible. Like her attraction to one Owen Ford.
She’d managed to plan the engagement party, including another visit to Elephants, without running into him. Some people might think her cowardly or even unprofessional by choosing to schedule her visit when she knew he wouldn’t be there. But Grace saw it as taking advantage of opportunities.
She’d been meeting with Julia and Donovan about their wedding and Julia had mentioned that Owen was working at the restaurant all week. Was she supposed to ignore the snippet of information? Purposely delay her
visit by a week so that she wouldn’t appear to be avoiding him?
And she wouldn’t avoid him tonight, either. She’d be too busy to chat with all the various jobs and duties she and her team would be attending to, but she wouldn’t avoid him.
She was already at the wine bar, preparing the initial setup even though the party didn’t start for another four hours. Her team of three would arrive in forty-five minutes, but for now it was just Grace and a pair of Elephants staff members prepping for tonight.
Grace was glad for the solitude. Glad Owen wasn’t here to grab her attention and refuse to let go. She hadn’t gotten to bed until almost four in the morning after a wedding the night before. The bride and groom had wanted to party, as had everyone else in attendance, and Grace had been required to negotiate a time extension on the fly while her team checked to make sure the caterers wouldn’t run out of food and drink.
When she’d finally crawled between her clean sheets, she’d been so exhausted that she almost forgot to set her alarm. And when it had gone off at six this morning, she wished she had forgotten. But she had her Pilates class at seven and she never missed that unless she was out of town.
Being tired and having a headache were not good excuses. So she’d slipped into her workout gear, grabbed a bottle of water from her tidy fridge and was warming up in the gym ten minutes before class.
But keeping to her routine didn’t fill her with any sense of clarity or moral satisfaction. She just felt more tired.
She would be glad when tonight’s event was over, though no one would ever know. On the surface, she’d be poised and friendly, her exhaustion hidden beneath a polite veneer.
By the time her team arrived, Grace had moved the tables and chairs into her preferred groupings and downed two bottles of water to keep hydrated.
It had been a warm day and was promising to be an equally warm night. Her thin silk T-shirt was beginning to stick to her back. “Hayley, will you check on the AC, please?”
Nothing would put a damper on a party faster than having guests uncomfortable.
“Right away.” Hayley scampered off to do as she was bid while Grace went over the event plan with the other two members of her team. They all knew the plan, but Grace made a point of holding a quick overview on-site at every event she threw.
One More Night Page 5
