DINNER
Hair Of The Dog wasn't a restaurant that Juliet would have picked, herself, to conduct a business meeting. She had been there before, and she'd enjoyed it, but only until Eric Reynolds had made his presence on the earth known to her. She certainly didn't want to be there with him again.
But Eric had insisted, much to her dismay, and in her anxiousness to get started on plans for her new building, she'd obliged him.
The restaurant was "festive," to say the least, bustling with casual activity, boasting a menu just as casual as the atmosphere. Above her were wooden rafters hanging from the ceilings, hardwood floors below her feet, and casual, wooden, stand-alone tables. It was a rare occasion that she wished there were high-backed booths available so that she couldn't be seen.
Adjusting her work bag on her shoulder, she spotted Eric across the room before the hostess even approached her. He looked amazing. She couldn't deny his attractiveness, just as she couldn't deny a handful of other men's attractiveness that sat in the same room. Just because she found his blue eyes to sparkle from across the room, or enjoyed the way his gray sweater hugged his chest and his biceps, didn't mean it actually meant anything. It just meant that he was a nice-looking man who also happened to be responsible for the construction of Carson Innovations' new home. That was all. Nothing more, nothing less.
If she could convince herself to regard him in that light all the time, she might actually be able to survive this partnership with him.
Holding her chin high in confidence, she ignored the hostess that she saw coming her way and smoothed her black pencil skirt with her hand, making her way toward the table Eric had picked for them. It sat nearly in the middle of the room, amongst the masses of diners, and Juliet was not pleased with the selection. She preferred to keep her business affairs private.
Being the gentleman that she wished he wasn't, Eric flashed his brilliant, heart-stopping smile at her as he stood to greet her. She prayed that he hadn't seen her eyes glance down at the way his jeans hugged his ass, remembering how tight it was when she was digging her nails into it. She shook the godforsaken thought out of her brain as he pulled her chair out for her and allowed her to be seated. "I'm so glad you could make it," he said sincerely as he returned to his own seat across from her. "How was the trip over?"
"It's New York City," she answered dryly. "It was the same as it always is."
"Right," he replied, his face falling a little. Then his eyes brightened again. "I went ahead and ordered us both water and a chardonnay for you, if that's okay."
She wanted to crack a smile at how observant he had apparently been at her party that fateful night, remembering her favorite wine, but she had to stand her ground with him--no matter how badly she wanted to crawl across the table and tear him apart. "Thank you. That's perfect."
He grinned in boyish triumph that caused her heart to melt a little as he picked up his menu. She wished he would stop doing that. She wished he didn't have so many adorable facial expressions, she wished his eyes weren't so intense every time they looked into hers, and she wished he didn't smell so intoxicatingly faint of spice and musk. Basically, she just wished he wasn't...him.
Within moments, the waitress brought their drinks to the table and asked if they were ready to order. Eric had asked for a couple of minutes since Juliet had just arrived, which was thoughtful, but unnecessary. "I'll have the lobster bisque, please," she said, handing the waitress the menu, never having opened it up. "As is. Thank you."
Eric appeared caught off guard for a moment before he got his footing back and ordered an appetizer consisting of some kind of meat wrapped in bacon, before ordering his main course of a specialty double burger and fries with extra salt. Her stomach churned as she listened to him order. Not only was he horrible at picking restaurants according to occasion, but he ate like a barbarian. Maybe this dinner was just what she needed to disinterest her, after all.
As she sipped on her wine and waited for their food, the pair made painful small talk before she remembered the work she'd brought in her bag. Leaning over and retrieving the binder that held all her designs for the building, she carefully placed it on the table and opened it up. "Okay, so what I have here are some sketches of what I'd like the building to look like. I also have the insides sketched, as well. Currently, what I'm working on are the exact measurements I want for the rooms and that's where I was hoping to maybe have some of your input, or maybe even look over some of the things you may have noted, if you don't mind. Contingent on the contract you signed and brought along with you tonight, of course."
She watched Eric look bewildered and then sheepish as he glanced at the floor beside him and then back up at her. "Um...well, that's funny. I seem to have, uh, forgotten my briefcase."
It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure him out. Juliet was furious. Glaring at him, she slammed her binder shut and snatched it off the table. "All you know how to do is lie. You are despicable and manipulative--bringing me all the way out here, thinking I'm going to a business dinner when all you did was deceive me, just like you did the night we met. I'm ashamed of myself for thinking that your intentions were at all innocent."
"Juliet--"
"I'm finished here," she said, picking up her bag and shoving her binder into it. "I made a mistake in trusting you and your company to take care of my building. I'll have my attorney on that contract first thing Monday morning."
"Juliet, come on," he said with remorse in his eyes. "Don't do this, don't go."
"I can't believe I let myself trust you again," she murmured as she stood and collected her belongings.
"I signed the contract!" He blurted desperately, looking up at her. "Okay? I signed it. The moment you left my office, I didn't even read it. It's a done deal, it's been done this entire time."
Juliet's heart stopped and she gaped at him, not knowing what emotion to feel first. She felt rage, relief, betrayal, excitement...fear... Her breath caught and she couldn't speak for a moment before she finally said in a strangled whisper, "How could you? Do you have any idea just how important this is to me? How could you just...fuck with me like that? It's so...unprofessional, so immature..."
He looked up at her, his eyes filled with remorse. "I'm sorry. It was the only way I could get you to go out with me. It was stupid and I'm sorry and I promise this isn't the only way I can get a date--"
She didn't care how remorseful he was. Her fury only grew. "Don't you think if I wanted to go out with you under normal circumstances, I would have? I didn't even want to do this."
Eric sat back in his chair and ran his hand through his hair, apparently not caring about the sexy, messy tousle it created. "I know. I get it. I shouldn't have tricked you, just--we're already here. Okay? We've already ordered, just--just stay and eat with me and then we can, you know, part ways and only see each other at real business meetings."
"I don't--"
"Don't make me beg. I'm not above begging. I'll do it right here, in front of everybody, I don't care. I will embarrass you."
Juliet's eyes widened at the notion. That was the last thing she needed right now and she had no doubt that he would live up to his word. Between that and the fact that she knew he heard how loudly her stomach had just rumbled, she was forced to give in to him. Slowly and carefully, she found herself sinking back down into her chair. "Well...I am hungry..."
The grin that caused his blue eyes to sparkle returned to his face. "Good. Because they have the best lobster bisque in town."
"I'm aware," she stated. "That's why I ordered it."
Once again, his face fell, causing Juliet to feel bad for her tone and then cursing herself for feeling bad at all. "Oh. Well. That makes sense, then."
Barely having time to adjust to her new, unintentional dinner situation, Eric's appetizer arrived, and she could practically see the grease on the plate that the meat was swimming in. Her stomach churned, but the aroma piqued her curiosity. She would never let him know it, though. "I don't see how you come to a place like this and order the most barbaric things on the menu. Your cholesterol is going to be sky high by the time you're fifty."
"Maybe so," he winked at her. "But at least I'll have had fun getting there. And, furthermore, I come here just for these things. Judging by the way you're eying them, they're not as barbaric as you say. You want one?"
She shook her head in response.
Eric shrugged, enthusiastically digging into his plate. "Suit yourself. Don't know what you're missing. By the way, you look really pretty tonight. Elegant. In a...strictly professional way, of course."
In spite of herself, unable to control it, she grew flustered with flattery. "Oh. Um. Thank you..."
"Anytime. You know, besides the whole lying-to-get-you-to-go-out-with-me thing, I don't know why you hate me so much. I'm actually quite charming."
And he was successfully charming her panties right off of her, but to let him know it would be her demise.
Instead, she arched her eyebrow in objection. "You forgot the part about abandoning me mere hours after completely exposing myself to you."
His eyes fell innocently on his plate as he chewed his bite and swallowed it, prepping another bacon-wrapped meat thing to follow right behind it. "For the record, I did leave a note. How you didn't see it, I don't know, 'cause I wrote it on a piece of that flowery stationary that I found by your computer."
Juliet's jaw dropped and her throat closed up. There was no way he could know what kind of stationary she kept at her computer desk--because she didn't leave it out in the open. It was in the top drawer. And he would have had to have looked for it to find it. He could have blown smoke at her and just said some random sheet of copy paper, except that he didn't. He was either a really good liar--which she knew wasn't true--or he was telling the truth, which she didn't understand, because said note had never turned up.
"I didn't wanna wake you up, you were snoring," he continued. "And I was late for, uh...an unexpected meeting with my brother. I left my phone number on it, too. Explains why you never called...or returned mine..."
Offended, and slightly embarrassed, Juliet objected, "I don't snore."
"How would you know? Word on the street is, there isn't a man in the city who's ever spent more than a few hours with you."
She glared at him. "That right there. That's why I don't like you."
"Why? 'Cause I tell the truth? Please, you find me irresistibly adorable."
Was it obvious? Had she smiled at him? Batted her eyelashes at him? Had he seen her blush? He couldn't know how he made her feel, because they could never be.
"I find the way you're shoveling that food in your mouth abhorrently grotesque," she replied.
"Hey, I like to enjoy my food. You're the one who's gonna leave here, starving, after that dinky little soup you ordered."
"You agreed it was the best in New York," she countered, offended.
"It is. Doesn't make it any less dinky. Here." He dipped a small chunk of the meat into a light-colored sauce that he hadn't used the entire time, and offered it across the table to her. "Just try one. You won't regret it, I promise."
She stared at it for a moment, trying not to notice how perfect his hand was, and then she finally surrendered and took it from him. She chewed it up slowly, savoring the tender meat and the salty flavor of the bacon and she had to admit the truth to him. "It's good."
A triumphant grin flashed brightly across his face. "Not too proud to admit defeat, are we?"
"Defeat? You just gave me a mouthful of meat that I happened to enjoy. That's hardly defeat."
"That's what she said," he muttered.
Her eyes widened with shock at his crude joke and she made no qualms about the retort she fired back at him. "If you're implying that you want me to suck your dick, you can rest assured, that is never going to happen."
"WHOA!" he exclaimed loudly, his amusement grossly obvious as he sat back in his chair. "That came completely out of left field. Now I know what's really on your mind..."
"Absolutely not," she objected firmly, cursing the visuals of his beautiful, perfect dick that penetrated her mind with unwelcome, delicious force. "You're being incredibly inappropriate right now."
"Hey, you're the one talking about wanting to suck my dick--"
"I did not say I wanted to--"
"But you're thinking about it."
Juliet was rendered speechless and she was infuriated by it. She was even more infuriated by the way his eyes sparkled as he winked at her and gave her that boyish smirk that told her he'd only been teasing with her. She felt sheepish then and, in an effort not to show it, she sucked in a breath and held her chin high as she turned up her chardonnay.
"I'd let you, though," he continued with a mischievous grin. "You know, if you behaved, that is. Honestly, though, you're not doing a very good job at earning the privilege."
"Thank God," she muttered, rolling her eyes and looking desperately around the room, wishing the conversation would end already.
"Am I making you uncomfortable?" He asked, his voice now serious and filled with concern. Something in his tone right then made her more uncomfortable than the sexual nature of the earlier conversation had. "I'm sorry," he continued. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I just...I like to kid around sometimes..."
Why did she want to surrender to him all the time? Why did he comfort her? Why did he make her feel things? And want things? Why did she want to be around him all the time and why couldn't he leave her daydreams and her fantasies alone?
Why did he have to be so god damned young?
In spite of herself, a smile crept across her face. "I'm not offended. The truth is, I've probably said more vulgar things than you've ever dreamed of."
He arched an eyebrow with curiosity. "Try me."
"Not here. I still have to keep what's left of my dignity intact."
"You're beautiful," he blurted, his eyes staring deliberately into hers. "Sexy. Classy. Intelligent. Passionate. Gorgeous. Talented. Inspiring..."
Juliet's jaw dropped with shock and her heart raced at the speed that it melted. She felt surrender coming on much too quickly and she didn't want it to come at all. "That is hardly my definition of vulgar," she breathed.
"It's vulgar how those things ring true about you. It's vulgar how openly disgusted you are by me and, yet, all I want to do is carry you to bed. It's vulgar, the way I can't get enough of you--"
"Eric. Please don't--"
"I apologize for making you uncomfortable, but I don't apologize for what I said. Or the way you make me feel."
Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. Trying to hate him was more exhausting than it was worth. And after having dinner with Jason the previous night, she decided that she didn't have time for that much stress. "You don't disgust me," she admitted. "I'm, um, I'm more disgusted with myself. I just...I think we sort of...ended up on the wrong foot. Or maybe I did, I don't know. But I don't dislike you. I just want--I need--for...whatever it is that we have here to stay completely professional. I just...need that."
His blue eyes stared into hers, a mixture of understanding and disappointment. He swallowed and he turned up his water glass. "I signed a contract," he said. "It's my job to do everything it takes to make you happy."
"Eric--"
"And I'm the kind of man who goes above and beyond the call of duty. You don't have to worry about me. Like I said before, we'll just have dinner and we'll go our separate ways. We'll see each other at work. No problem."
She had disappointed him. That much was obvious. But she didn't know how not to. She stood by her words. She couldn't have anything personal with him. And even if she did, she wouldn't even know how to do it. No matter which way it went, she would only end up breaking his heart. And the best way to avoid doing that was to make sure nothing like the night they spent together ever happened again. She didn't want to break his heart.
Saved by their entrees, and tempted by the heap of fries on his plate, she ended up sharing a small portion with him, but not before scraping off the excess salt. "Cholesterol," she said to him. "I'm telling you."
"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth," he retorted. "That little soup bowl won't even come close to sticking to your ribs tonight, you'll be raiding your refrigerator when you get home." Then his eyes lit up across the table at her. "How do you feel about dessert?"
"Well I'm not too impressed with their selection here--"
"I don't mean here. I mean...not here. I left the contract at home anyway, and I think I promised you would have it tonight--"
"Oh, no. Oh, no, that's quite all right. You can bring it by my office on Monday."
"I have a busy day on Monday. It's fine, I only live, like, five minutes from you."
She looked at him, dumbfounded. "Are you serious?"
"Yep," he nodded, shoving a fry in his mouth. "Walking distance."
Jesus, this just kept getting worse and worse.
However, by the time dinner was over, he had worn her down and she still wasn't sure how she'd agreed to dessert at his condo. Oh, yeah. Because he had the signed copy of the contract.
This guy was good. He was too good.
Hair Of The Dog wasn't a restaurant that Juliet would have picked, herself, to conduct a business meeting. She had been there before, and she'd enjoyed it, but only until Eric Reynolds had made his presence on the earth known to her. She certainly didn't want to be there with him again.
But Eric had insisted, much to her dismay, and in her anxiousness to get started on plans for her new building, she'd obliged him.
The restaurant was "festive," to say the least, bustling with casual activity, boasting a menu just as casual as the atmosphere. Above her were wooden rafters hanging from the ceilings, hardwood floors below her feet, and casual, wooden, stand-alone tables. It was a rare occasion that she wished there were high-backed booths available so that she couldn't be seen.
Adjusting her work bag on her shoulder, she spotted Eric across the room before the hostess even approached her. He looked amazing. She couldn't deny his attractiveness, just as she couldn't deny a handful of other men's attractiveness that sat in the same room. Just because she found his blue eyes to sparkle from across the room, or enjoyed the way his gray sweater hugged his chest and his biceps, didn't mean it actually meant anything. It just meant that he was a nice-looking man who also happened to be responsible for the construction of Carson Innovations' new home. That was all. Nothing more, nothing less.
If she could convince herself to regard him in that light all the time, she might actually be able to survive this partnership with him.
Holding her chin high in confidence, she ignored the hostess that she saw coming her way and smoothed her black pencil skirt with her hand, making her way toward the table Eric had picked for them. It sat nearly in the middle of the room, amongst the masses of diners, and Juliet was not pleased with the selection. She preferred to keep her business affairs private.
Being the gentleman that she wished he wasn't, Eric flashed his brilliant, heart-stopping smile at her as he stood to greet her. She prayed that he hadn't seen her eyes glance down at the way his jeans hugged his ass, remembering how tight it was when she was digging her nails into it. She shook the godforsaken thought out of her brain as he pulled her chair out for her and allowed her to be seated. "I'm so glad you could make it," he said sincerely as he returned to his own seat across from her. "How was the trip over?"
"It's New York City," she answered dryly. "It was the same as it always is."
"Right," he replied, his face falling a little. Then his eyes brightened again. "I went ahead and ordered us both water and a chardonnay for you, if that's okay."
She wanted to crack a smile at how observant he had apparently been at her party that fateful night, remembering her favorite wine, but she had to stand her ground with him--no matter how badly she wanted to crawl across the table and tear him apart. "Thank you. That's perfect."
He grinned in boyish triumph that caused her heart to melt a little as he picked up his menu. She wished he would stop doing that. She wished he didn't have so many adorable facial expressions, she wished his eyes weren't so intense every time they looked into hers, and she wished he didn't smell so intoxicatingly faint of spice and musk. Basically, she just wished he wasn't...him.
Within moments, the waitress brought their drinks to the table and asked if they were ready to order. Eric had asked for a couple of minutes since Juliet had just arrived, which was thoughtful, but unnecessary. "I'll have the lobster bisque, please," she said, handing the waitress the menu, never having opened it up. "As is. Thank you."
Eric appeared caught off guard for a moment before he got his footing back and ordered an appetizer consisting of some kind of meat wrapped in bacon, before ordering his main course of a specialty double burger and fries with extra salt. Her stomach churned as she listened to him order. Not only was he horrible at picking restaurants according to occasion, but he ate like a barbarian. Maybe this dinner was just what she needed to disinterest her, after all.
As she sipped on her wine and waited for their food, the pair made painful small talk before she remembered the work she'd brought in her bag. Leaning over and retrieving the binder that held all her designs for the building, she carefully placed it on the table and opened it up. "Okay, so what I have here are some sketches of what I'd like the building to look like. I also have the insides sketched, as well. Currently, what I'm working on are the exact measurements I want for the rooms and that's where I was hoping to maybe have some of your input, or maybe even look over some of the things you may have noted, if you don't mind. Contingent on the contract you signed and brought along with you tonight, of course."
She watched Eric look bewildered and then sheepish as he glanced at the floor beside him and then back up at her. "Um...well, that's funny. I seem to have, uh, forgotten my briefcase."
It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure him out. Juliet was furious. Glaring at him, she slammed her binder shut and snatched it off the table. "All you know how to do is lie. You are despicable and manipulative--bringing me all the way out here, thinking I'm going to a business dinner when all you did was deceive me, just like you did the night we met. I'm ashamed of myself for thinking that your intentions were at all innocent."
"Juliet--"
"I'm finished here," she said, picking up her bag and shoving her binder into it. "I made a mistake in trusting you and your company to take care of my building. I'll have my attorney on that contract first thing Monday morning."
"Juliet, come on," he said with remorse in his eyes. "Don't do this, don't go."
"I can't believe I let myself trust you again," she murmured as she stood and collected her belongings.
"I signed the contract!" He blurted desperately, looking up at her. "Okay? I signed it. The moment you left my office, I didn't even read it. It's a done deal, it's been done this entire time."
Juliet's heart stopped and she gaped at him, not knowing what emotion to feel first. She felt rage, relief, betrayal, excitement...fear... Her breath caught and she couldn't speak for a moment before she finally said in a strangled whisper, "How could you? Do you have any idea just how important this is to me? How could you just...fuck with me like that? It's so...unprofessional, so immature..."
He looked up at her, his eyes filled with remorse. "I'm sorry. It was the only way I could get you to go out with me. It was stupid and I'm sorry and I promise this isn't the only way I can get a date--"
She didn't care how remorseful he was. Her fury only grew. "Don't you think if I wanted to go out with you under normal circumstances, I would have? I didn't even want to do this."
Eric sat back in his chair and ran his hand through his hair, apparently not caring about the sexy, messy tousle it created. "I know. I get it. I shouldn't have tricked you, just--we're already here. Okay? We've already ordered, just--just stay and eat with me and then we can, you know, part ways and only see each other at real business meetings."
"I don't--"
"Don't make me beg. I'm not above begging. I'll do it right here, in front of everybody, I don't care. I will embarrass you."
Juliet's eyes widened at the notion. That was the last thing she needed right now and she had no doubt that he would live up to his word. Between that and the fact that she knew he heard how loudly her stomach had just rumbled, she was forced to give in to him. Slowly and carefully, she found herself sinking back down into her chair. "Well...I am hungry..."
The grin that caused his blue eyes to sparkle returned to his face. "Good. Because they have the best lobster bisque in town."
"I'm aware," she stated. "That's why I ordered it."
Once again, his face fell, causing Juliet to feel bad for her tone and then cursing herself for feeling bad at all. "Oh. Well. That makes sense, then."
Barely having time to adjust to her new, unintentional dinner situation, Eric's appetizer arrived, and she could practically see the grease on the plate that the meat was swimming in. Her stomach churned, but the aroma piqued her curiosity. She would never let him know it, though. "I don't see how you come to a place like this and order the most barbaric things on the menu. Your cholesterol is going to be sky high by the time you're fifty."
"Maybe so," he winked at her. "But at least I'll have had fun getting there. And, furthermore, I come here just for these things. Judging by the way you're eying them, they're not as barbaric as you say. You want one?"
She shook her head in response.
Eric shrugged, enthusiastically digging into his plate. "Suit yourself. Don't know what you're missing. By the way, you look really pretty tonight. Elegant. In a...strictly professional way, of course."
In spite of herself, unable to control it, she grew flustered with flattery. "Oh. Um. Thank you..."
"Anytime. You know, besides the whole lying-to-get-you-to-go-out-with-me thing, I don't know why you hate me so much. I'm actually quite charming."
And he was successfully charming her panties right off of her, but to let him know it would be her demise.
Instead, she arched her eyebrow in objection. "You forgot the part about abandoning me mere hours after completely exposing myself to you."
His eyes fell innocently on his plate as he chewed his bite and swallowed it, prepping another bacon-wrapped meat thing to follow right behind it. "For the record, I did leave a note. How you didn't see it, I don't know, 'cause I wrote it on a piece of that flowery stationary that I found by your computer."
Juliet's jaw dropped and her throat closed up. There was no way he could know what kind of stationary she kept at her computer desk--because she didn't leave it out in the open. It was in the top drawer. And he would have had to have looked for it to find it. He could have blown smoke at her and just said some random sheet of copy paper, except that he didn't. He was either a really good liar--which she knew wasn't true--or he was telling the truth, which she didn't understand, because said note had never turned up.
"I didn't wanna wake you up, you were snoring," he continued. "And I was late for, uh...an unexpected meeting with my brother. I left my phone number on it, too. Explains why you never called...or returned mine..."
Offended, and slightly embarrassed, Juliet objected, "I don't snore."
"How would you know? Word on the street is, there isn't a man in the city who's ever spent more than a few hours with you."
She glared at him. "That right there. That's why I don't like you."
"Why? 'Cause I tell the truth? Please, you find me irresistibly adorable."
Was it obvious? Had she smiled at him? Batted her eyelashes at him? Had he seen her blush? He couldn't know how he made her feel, because they could never be.
"I find the way you're shoveling that food in your mouth abhorrently grotesque," she replied.
"Hey, I like to enjoy my food. You're the one who's gonna leave here, starving, after that dinky little soup you ordered."
"You agreed it was the best in New York," she countered, offended.
"It is. Doesn't make it any less dinky. Here." He dipped a small chunk of the meat into a light-colored sauce that he hadn't used the entire time, and offered it across the table to her. "Just try one. You won't regret it, I promise."
She stared at it for a moment, trying not to notice how perfect his hand was, and then she finally surrendered and took it from him. She chewed it up slowly, savoring the tender meat and the salty flavor of the bacon and she had to admit the truth to him. "It's good."
A triumphant grin flashed brightly across his face. "Not too proud to admit defeat, are we?"
"Defeat? You just gave me a mouthful of meat that I happened to enjoy. That's hardly defeat."
"That's what she said," he muttered.
Her eyes widened with shock at his crude joke and she made no qualms about the retort she fired back at him. "If you're implying that you want me to suck your dick, you can rest assured, that is never going to happen."
"WHOA!" he exclaimed loudly, his amusement grossly obvious as he sat back in his chair. "That came completely out of left field. Now I know what's really on your mind..."
"Absolutely not," she objected firmly, cursing the visuals of his beautiful, perfect dick that penetrated her mind with unwelcome, delicious force. "You're being incredibly inappropriate right now."
"Hey, you're the one talking about wanting to suck my dick--"
"I did not say I wanted to--"
"But you're thinking about it."
Juliet was rendered speechless and she was infuriated by it. She was even more infuriated by the way his eyes sparkled as he winked at her and gave her that boyish smirk that told her he'd only been teasing with her. She felt sheepish then and, in an effort not to show it, she sucked in a breath and held her chin high as she turned up her chardonnay.
"I'd let you, though," he continued with a mischievous grin. "You know, if you behaved, that is. Honestly, though, you're not doing a very good job at earning the privilege."
"Thank God," she muttered, rolling her eyes and looking desperately around the room, wishing the conversation would end already.
"Am I making you uncomfortable?" He asked, his voice now serious and filled with concern. Something in his tone right then made her more uncomfortable than the sexual nature of the earlier conversation had. "I'm sorry," he continued. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I just...I like to kid around sometimes..."
Why did she want to surrender to him all the time? Why did he comfort her? Why did he make her feel things? And want things? Why did she want to be around him all the time and why couldn't he leave her daydreams and her fantasies alone?
Why did he have to be so god damned young?
In spite of herself, a smile crept across her face. "I'm not offended. The truth is, I've probably said more vulgar things than you've ever dreamed of."
He arched an eyebrow with curiosity. "Try me."
"Not here. I still have to keep what's left of my dignity intact."
"You're beautiful," he blurted, his eyes staring deliberately into hers. "Sexy. Classy. Intelligent. Passionate. Gorgeous. Talented. Inspiring..."
Juliet's jaw dropped with shock and her heart raced at the speed that it melted. She felt surrender coming on much too quickly and she didn't want it to come at all. "That is hardly my definition of vulgar," she breathed.
"It's vulgar how those things ring true about you. It's vulgar how openly disgusted you are by me and, yet, all I want to do is carry you to bed. It's vulgar, the way I can't get enough of you--"
"Eric. Please don't--"
"I apologize for making you uncomfortable, but I don't apologize for what I said. Or the way you make me feel."
Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. Trying to hate him was more exhausting than it was worth. And after having dinner with Jason the previous night, she decided that she didn't have time for that much stress. "You don't disgust me," she admitted. "I'm, um, I'm more disgusted with myself. I just...I think we sort of...ended up on the wrong foot. Or maybe I did, I don't know. But I don't dislike you. I just want--I need--for...whatever it is that we have here to stay completely professional. I just...need that."
His blue eyes stared into hers, a mixture of understanding and disappointment. He swallowed and he turned up his water glass. "I signed a contract," he said. "It's my job to do everything it takes to make you happy."
"Eric--"
"And I'm the kind of man who goes above and beyond the call of duty. You don't have to worry about me. Like I said before, we'll just have dinner and we'll go our separate ways. We'll see each other at work. No problem."
She had disappointed him. That much was obvious. But she didn't know how not to. She stood by her words. She couldn't have anything personal with him. And even if she did, she wouldn't even know how to do it. No matter which way it went, she would only end up breaking his heart. And the best way to avoid doing that was to make sure nothing like the night they spent together ever happened again. She didn't want to break his heart.
Saved by their entrees, and tempted by the heap of fries on his plate, she ended up sharing a small portion with him, but not before scraping off the excess salt. "Cholesterol," she said to him. "I'm telling you."
"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth," he retorted. "That little soup bowl won't even come close to sticking to your ribs tonight, you'll be raiding your refrigerator when you get home." Then his eyes lit up across the table at her. "How do you feel about dessert?"
"Well I'm not too impressed with their selection here--"
"I don't mean here. I mean...not here. I left the contract at home anyway, and I think I promised you would have it tonight--"
"Oh, no. Oh, no, that's quite all right. You can bring it by my office on Monday."
"I have a busy day on Monday. It's fine, I only live, like, five minutes from you."
She looked at him, dumbfounded. "Are you serious?"
"Yep," he nodded, shoving a fry in his mouth. "Walking distance."
Jesus, this just kept getting worse and worse.
However, by the time dinner was over, he had worn her down and she still wasn't sure how she'd agreed to dessert at his condo. Oh, yeah. Because he had the signed copy of the contract.
This guy was good. He was too good.