Read Online This Changes Everything by Gretchen Galway - Free Book Online Page B

“It’s probably too late in the year to see much. And I don’t feel like getting in the car.”
    “So we’ll walk.” His hand moved down to her hand and clasped it.
    Walking. Not as easy as it sounded. Her attention was so distracted by the touch that she tripped over the threshold on the way out the door.
    She pulled her hand away and pretended to adjust her ponytail.
    They could walk, but just for a little while. And then she was going to have a headache.
    It was almost true.

8
    S ly drank his third mineral water in the bar, watching the lobby for Cleo. They’d only walked for a little while that afternoon before she’d come down with a headache. They’d returned to the room, but when she made it clear there was nothing he could do for her, he’d quickly dressed for dinner and left her there with a pillow over her eyes.
    Maybe she did have a headache. But he knew he’d sent a few mixed signals, testing her out, and her running away with a headache was one of the results.
    He was done mixing any signals with Cleo. Weeks of no work had messed up his head. He got twitchy if he wasn’t conquering something—climbing a mountain, closing a sale, seducing a woman. He had the sinking feeling he’d fixed his sights on Cleo out of pure leisure intolerance.
    Tonight he’d do what he could to interest Poppy Lee in Mark’s company, and then he’d do some networking himself. The sooner he got back into the workforce, the better.
    “Evening, Sylvester.”
    He spun around on his seat to see Teresa standing behind him with a silver vase of sunflowers in her arms. “Hi.”
    “Help me out? They screwed up the arrangements, and I’m trying to fix them before everyone gets into the room.”
    He hesitated.
    “Come on. I can see you’ve finished your drink. I just need help carrying the last few vases.” She thrust the sunflowers at him and turned. “Follow me.”
    Sly had never liked wishy-washy women. Being a man prone to domineering behavior himself, he liked being with someone who could hold her own. Teresa, however, had a pathological need to control everything at all times, even a charity auction at which she was the guest.
    “Come on, come on,” Teresa said. “People are arriving.”
    He looked around one last time for Cleo before following Teresa through the lobby to the banquet hall, figuring that carrying flowers was better than brooding at the bar.
    Just as he passed the sitting area, he noticed a woman standing there with her back to him. Her snug emerald-green dress showed off an ass that could stop traffic. It had certainly stopped him.
    And then his peripheral vision registered the color, length, and texture of her blond hair, and his heart began to pound harder.
    When Cleo turned, he was holding the vase so tightly he was glad it wasn’t glass because he might’ve shattered it. “Hi.” He cleared his throat. “I’m helping out with the flowers.”
    She smiled. “I can see that.” The dress was modest, with long sleeves and simple lines, but it clung to parts of her he’d never known she had. “Like my work clothes?”
    He imagined the work she could do in it. “Excuse me?”
    “You know, when I play at events.”
    “Right.” Slowly, the gears in his brain began to turn again. “How’s your headache?”
    “Better, thanks. But seriously, is the dress all right? I didn’t know if it would be too cheesy. It’s good for weddings and anniversaries, but at those I’m just the chick playing the piano, not a mogul’s hot date.” She waved her hand up and down in his general direction.
    “It’s very all right.”
    Smile faltering, she reached for the flowers. “Can I help?”
    He hugged the vase against his chest, suddenly needing to squeeze something. “I’ve got it. Teresa drafted me. You might want to hide before she catches you too.”
    “It’s not me she wants to catch.”
    With a grim nod, he gestured to the banquet hall, and the two of them made their way through the growing