marathon problem solving session, and more than ready for lunch. I’d skipped breakfast again this morning, a fact my stomach was refusing to let me forget.
“I’m going to Hopjacks,” I announced as I passed Jonathan’s desk. I needed food, and I needed to get out of here, even if it was only for an hour. Hoping to avoid Tim, I hurried down the hall to the stairs. If he saw me I knew I could forget about lunch. I ducked inside the stairwell and moved quickly down the five flights of stairs, pausing only to straighten my skirt once I reached the bottom floor. I needed time. Time to breathe, time to process all that had happened since yesterday and, more importantly, time to figure out how to get Alec Payne out of my head because no matter how hard I tried, or how much I wanted to, I hadn’t been able to make that happen.
The cool, salty, air invigorated me and I strolled down the sidewalk toward Hopjacks Pizza. There was already a line of people at the door: business professionals, families, locals, tourists, all waiting for a table. But not me, no, I moved past the mob and headed straight for the bar.
“What’ll it be?” the bartender asked after I’d settled into one of the high back stools.
“Caprese salad and a glass of water, please.”
And a glass of that Riesling you like so much , my inner voice coaxed. “I’ll have a glass of Chateau St. Michele too,” I added, quickly surrendering to her temptation.
“Coming right up.” The bartender poured the wine and set the glass down on a cardboard coaster in front of me. I wasted no time in tasting it. It wasn’t as good as the wine I’d had last night with Alec, but it was still one of my favorites.
Blocking out the chaos around me, I sat in silence, sipping the glass of wine as I waited for my lunch to arrive. Without permission, thoughts of Alec kept popping into my head: his beautiful body, his smile, that wicked grin. His words, “Dangerous, dangerous game,” rang in my ears again and I couldn’t help but wonder what he’d meant.
The bartender set my lunch on the counter in front of me. “Can I get you another?” he asked, pointing to the nearly empty glass of wine in my hand.
As much as wanted another glass I still had work to do today. “I better stick to water.”
He smiled and walked away, leaving me alone to eat my lunch. One bite of tomato drizzled with the balsamic vinegar glaze, and food was all I could think about. My stomach growled, encouraging me to eat faster. The fresh mozzarella practically melted in my mouth, and that was all the encouragement I needed. Bite after bite I powered through the food on my plate.
When I’d finished eating the bartender returned with a fresh glass of wine. “Compliments of that gentleman over there,” he said, motioning to the end of the bar. I closed my eyes, secretly hoping it was Alec but afraid to look.
“Thanks,” I said when I opened my eyes again. I lifted the glass and took a long drink, deliberately looking in the opposite direction of where he’d pointed. If it wasn’t Alec, I didn’t care who’d sent it, and if it was him, well, that was a whole different problem.
The mystery was quickly solved when Alec took the seat next to me. “Drinking on the job, I see,” he teased.
“It’s from a client,” I snapped, conflicted by the feelings he elicited and my responsibility of professional conduct. “What are you doing here?”
“Ironing out the details of my latest contract.”
Shit. Now I’d have to apologize. I’d accused him of flying here to see me when really he had business to take care of. Before I could formulate a complete sentence that resembled an apology, I heard my name being called.
“Izzy.” I heard again, only this time I knew who it was. I turned just in time to see Tim approach, waving a file in his hand.
“Hey, Tim, what’s that?”
“Our newest contract.”
“Ultimate’s contract?” I asked cautiously. Tim nodded and I slowly started
“I’m going to Hopjacks,” I announced as I passed Jonathan’s desk. I needed food, and I needed to get out of here, even if it was only for an hour. Hoping to avoid Tim, I hurried down the hall to the stairs. If he saw me I knew I could forget about lunch. I ducked inside the stairwell and moved quickly down the five flights of stairs, pausing only to straighten my skirt once I reached the bottom floor. I needed time. Time to breathe, time to process all that had happened since yesterday and, more importantly, time to figure out how to get Alec Payne out of my head because no matter how hard I tried, or how much I wanted to, I hadn’t been able to make that happen.
The cool, salty, air invigorated me and I strolled down the sidewalk toward Hopjacks Pizza. There was already a line of people at the door: business professionals, families, locals, tourists, all waiting for a table. But not me, no, I moved past the mob and headed straight for the bar.
“What’ll it be?” the bartender asked after I’d settled into one of the high back stools.
“Caprese salad and a glass of water, please.”
And a glass of that Riesling you like so much , my inner voice coaxed. “I’ll have a glass of Chateau St. Michele too,” I added, quickly surrendering to her temptation.
“Coming right up.” The bartender poured the wine and set the glass down on a cardboard coaster in front of me. I wasted no time in tasting it. It wasn’t as good as the wine I’d had last night with Alec, but it was still one of my favorites.
Blocking out the chaos around me, I sat in silence, sipping the glass of wine as I waited for my lunch to arrive. Without permission, thoughts of Alec kept popping into my head: his beautiful body, his smile, that wicked grin. His words, “Dangerous, dangerous game,” rang in my ears again and I couldn’t help but wonder what he’d meant.
The bartender set my lunch on the counter in front of me. “Can I get you another?” he asked, pointing to the nearly empty glass of wine in my hand.
As much as wanted another glass I still had work to do today. “I better stick to water.”
He smiled and walked away, leaving me alone to eat my lunch. One bite of tomato drizzled with the balsamic vinegar glaze, and food was all I could think about. My stomach growled, encouraging me to eat faster. The fresh mozzarella practically melted in my mouth, and that was all the encouragement I needed. Bite after bite I powered through the food on my plate.
When I’d finished eating the bartender returned with a fresh glass of wine. “Compliments of that gentleman over there,” he said, motioning to the end of the bar. I closed my eyes, secretly hoping it was Alec but afraid to look.
“Thanks,” I said when I opened my eyes again. I lifted the glass and took a long drink, deliberately looking in the opposite direction of where he’d pointed. If it wasn’t Alec, I didn’t care who’d sent it, and if it was him, well, that was a whole different problem.
The mystery was quickly solved when Alec took the seat next to me. “Drinking on the job, I see,” he teased.
“It’s from a client,” I snapped, conflicted by the feelings he elicited and my responsibility of professional conduct. “What are you doing here?”
“Ironing out the details of my latest contract.”
Shit. Now I’d have to apologize. I’d accused him of flying here to see me when really he had business to take care of. Before I could formulate a complete sentence that resembled an apology, I heard my name being called.
“Izzy.” I heard again, only this time I knew who it was. I turned just in time to see Tim approach, waving a file in his hand.
“Hey, Tim, what’s that?”
“Our newest contract.”
“Ultimate’s contract?” I asked cautiously. Tim nodded and I slowly started
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