do business with.”
“All right.” She pulled free from Rodgers, tucked the file into her briefcase, and hid her unease behind her wine glass, taking a slow sip and stealing the moment to compose herself. “What shall we discuss, then?”
Wheeler crossed his fingers together. A wedding band sparkled in the light. “Tell me a little more about yourself. How did you two meet, Derek? May I call you Derek?”
“Of course.” But Derek said nothing else. Stephanie shot him a look, but his calm, easy smile was no help.
She gulped. “You want to know how we met.”
Crap. Crap crap crap. She’d come prepared to talk business with a few idle personal comments—not make up stories about the romance of the century. Why couldn’t Wheeler be a smarmy business-first jerk like Rodgers, instead of this kindly-eyed old coot with a fixation on wedding bells? He was probably already picturing her pregnant with her first litter. She and Derek could breed like bunnies. Little baby Poindexters toddling everywhere.
She thought she might faint.
Wheeler was waiting. Worse, Rodgers was watching her with a pointed look, the warning in his eyes clear.
“Um.” She cleared her throat. “Derek tells it better.”
“She’s just saying that because she doesn’t remember.” With an unbelievably genuine chuckle, Derek slid an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his dizzyingly warm body. “Swiss cheese memory. Just the other day she forgot her umbrella. Again.”
“I didn’t forget!” she sputtered. “The weatherman said it wasn’t supposed to rain!”
“That’s what you said the first time, too.”
Derek’s gaze nearly burned with warmth as he looked down at her. She was tempted to sway into him. Tempted to believe that this open, relaxed man was the real thing, and for just a moment she could pretend…
Wheeler’s chuckle broke the spell. “You two bicker like you’ve been married ten years already.”
“Because he never lets me forget the umbrella thing.” Stephanie made herself look away from Derek, and only hoped her smile was as genuine as his. “That’s actually how we met, even if he thinks I forgot.”
God, they were still watching her. It was like doing a monologue on stage without a script. Or any idea what she was supposed to be doing.
There wasn’t enough wine in the world for this.
Derek’s fingers curled against her arm, then circled slowly. She glanced up at him, took a deep breath, then said, “It was raining, and I was meeting my brother for lunch. I was in a hurry. My brother isn’t in town often, and I don’t get to see him much. His work takes him away.”
She felt so calculating, talking about her brother this way to play up the family angle. Even if it was the truth, it was a truth Wheeler was lapping up like pudding.
“So on my way there,” she continued, “he told me a college friend was joining us for lunch. He was always trying to hook me up with his lame friends. Exhibit A is right here.”
Derek snorted. “Lame. But when she wants me to do the dishes, I’m the best fiancé ever.”
“Correction: if you ever actually do the dishes, you’ll be the best fiancé ever.” She leaned into his embrace with a laugh. “Seriously, my brother’s friends were all these stuck-up frat boys who cared more about their hair than I did. So I’m on my way to the restaurant, expecting to meet some jerk in a popped collar polo, when it starts pouring down rain. Turns out my knight in shining armor was more a knight in shining business shoes.”
Derek’s fingers walked up her arm, giving her the shivers. “I couldn’t leave you standing there. You were soaked.”
“And freezing.”
“I was more than happy to keep you warm.”
His crystal blue eyes captured her, pulling her deep into their ice-fire intensity. Her breath caught, and she leaned closer—until Rodgers cleared his throat. She coughed, pulled away, and steadied herself with a long drink of wine, swallowing
“All right.” She pulled free from Rodgers, tucked the file into her briefcase, and hid her unease behind her wine glass, taking a slow sip and stealing the moment to compose herself. “What shall we discuss, then?”
Wheeler crossed his fingers together. A wedding band sparkled in the light. “Tell me a little more about yourself. How did you two meet, Derek? May I call you Derek?”
“Of course.” But Derek said nothing else. Stephanie shot him a look, but his calm, easy smile was no help.
She gulped. “You want to know how we met.”
Crap. Crap crap crap. She’d come prepared to talk business with a few idle personal comments—not make up stories about the romance of the century. Why couldn’t Wheeler be a smarmy business-first jerk like Rodgers, instead of this kindly-eyed old coot with a fixation on wedding bells? He was probably already picturing her pregnant with her first litter. She and Derek could breed like bunnies. Little baby Poindexters toddling everywhere.
She thought she might faint.
Wheeler was waiting. Worse, Rodgers was watching her with a pointed look, the warning in his eyes clear.
“Um.” She cleared her throat. “Derek tells it better.”
“She’s just saying that because she doesn’t remember.” With an unbelievably genuine chuckle, Derek slid an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his dizzyingly warm body. “Swiss cheese memory. Just the other day she forgot her umbrella. Again.”
“I didn’t forget!” she sputtered. “The weatherman said it wasn’t supposed to rain!”
“That’s what you said the first time, too.”
Derek’s gaze nearly burned with warmth as he looked down at her. She was tempted to sway into him. Tempted to believe that this open, relaxed man was the real thing, and for just a moment she could pretend…
Wheeler’s chuckle broke the spell. “You two bicker like you’ve been married ten years already.”
“Because he never lets me forget the umbrella thing.” Stephanie made herself look away from Derek, and only hoped her smile was as genuine as his. “That’s actually how we met, even if he thinks I forgot.”
God, they were still watching her. It was like doing a monologue on stage without a script. Or any idea what she was supposed to be doing.
There wasn’t enough wine in the world for this.
Derek’s fingers curled against her arm, then circled slowly. She glanced up at him, took a deep breath, then said, “It was raining, and I was meeting my brother for lunch. I was in a hurry. My brother isn’t in town often, and I don’t get to see him much. His work takes him away.”
She felt so calculating, talking about her brother this way to play up the family angle. Even if it was the truth, it was a truth Wheeler was lapping up like pudding.
“So on my way there,” she continued, “he told me a college friend was joining us for lunch. He was always trying to hook me up with his lame friends. Exhibit A is right here.”
Derek snorted. “Lame. But when she wants me to do the dishes, I’m the best fiancé ever.”
“Correction: if you ever actually do the dishes, you’ll be the best fiancé ever.” She leaned into his embrace with a laugh. “Seriously, my brother’s friends were all these stuck-up frat boys who cared more about their hair than I did. So I’m on my way to the restaurant, expecting to meet some jerk in a popped collar polo, when it starts pouring down rain. Turns out my knight in shining armor was more a knight in shining business shoes.”
Derek’s fingers walked up her arm, giving her the shivers. “I couldn’t leave you standing there. You were soaked.”
“And freezing.”
“I was more than happy to keep you warm.”
His crystal blue eyes captured her, pulling her deep into their ice-fire intensity. Her breath caught, and she leaned closer—until Rodgers cleared his throat. She coughed, pulled away, and steadied herself with a long drink of wine, swallowing
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