really was. A good-time guy. Interested as long as things were fun and easy, but not the type to stick around for the long haul, or to be counted on when the going got tough.
In her enthusiasm, she’d almost lost sight of that.
“Fine,” she said. “We’ll take this one step at a time. Fill out the questionnaire and email it to me, so I can start working on the website. Can you write a few blog entries, say five hundred words each, in the next few days?”
“About what?”
“Anything. Your writing process. Where you get your ideas. A day in the life of an ER doc. What you think about the current state of healthcare. Whatever. Just make it short and snappy.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. I’ll put together a list of the social media sites we need to target. It’ll take two-three weeks to get everything launched, set up some appearances, maybe take out a few ads before you upload the book. How does your schedule look through the end of May?”
“Pretty flexible. Some physical therapy appointments, but nothing I can’t change.”
“Okay, I’ll let you know when I need for you to be available.”
He laughed. “A woman who takes charge. I like that.”
She flushed. After so many months of feeling helpless, swept along on a tide of one misfortune after another, she was finally taking control. Maybe that sense of empowerment had gone to her head, just like the alcohol. Max didn’t seem to mind, but she probably ought to tone it down a little if she wanted to attract and retain paying clients. In this business, where perception was all, she couldn’t afford to be seen as overly aggressive. Creative, yes. Knowledgeable, definitely. Hardworking, meticulous, flexible. Yes, yes, and yes. But overbearing? Probably not.
A quick glance at her watch had her shutting down the computer and extracting a couple twenties from her purse. “It’s getting late,” she said, placing the money beneath her glass and rising. “Thanks for meeting with me. I’ll put together some things for you to review by Monday.”
“Not so fast.” He signaled to the waiter for the bill, then fished out his own wallet and replaced her money with his. By the time he caught up with her, she was nearly to the exit. “Eva, wait up.”
He wrapped his hand around her upper arm and held the door for her. She shivered, her nipples hardening beneath the flimsy T-shirt.
“Cold?”
Now that he mentioned it, she did notice the drop in temperature. Without the heat lamps creating a cozy enclave against the encroaching twilight, it was downright chilly. As a long-time Santa Monica resident, Eva was used to the sharp contrast between balmy days and cool nights. Usually she carried an extra layer with her, but when she’d gone to the library earlier, she hadn’t expected to stay out so late. This impromptu meeting with Max had caught her off-guard in more ways than one.
She felt her shoulder bag being lifted. “What…?”
He draped his jacket, still carrying a hint of his cologne, over her shoulders. “Better?”
“Yes, thanks. But what about you?”
He stuffed the folded bills he’d retrieved earlier into her bag and tucked the entire thing under his other arm. “I’ll be fine. Hot-blooded, you know.”
She ignored his attempt at humor. “I can carry my own purse.”
“Where’s your car?”
“I walked.”
“In that case, come on. I’ll drive you home.”
He led her a short distance down the block, where he’d apparently managed to find a coveted parking spot. A red Ferrari convertible. Of course.
He waited until she was buckled in, then handed over her bag and shut the door.
“Where to?”
She directed him, sneaking peeks at his profile as he drove. Straight nose, strong chin, wide shoulders and gym-sculpted arms that seemed to crowd her in the cramped confines of the front seat. She dropped her gaze to his fingers as he adjusted the temperature controls. What would those fingers feel like on her skin? Smooth, or a
In her enthusiasm, she’d almost lost sight of that.
“Fine,” she said. “We’ll take this one step at a time. Fill out the questionnaire and email it to me, so I can start working on the website. Can you write a few blog entries, say five hundred words each, in the next few days?”
“About what?”
“Anything. Your writing process. Where you get your ideas. A day in the life of an ER doc. What you think about the current state of healthcare. Whatever. Just make it short and snappy.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. I’ll put together a list of the social media sites we need to target. It’ll take two-three weeks to get everything launched, set up some appearances, maybe take out a few ads before you upload the book. How does your schedule look through the end of May?”
“Pretty flexible. Some physical therapy appointments, but nothing I can’t change.”
“Okay, I’ll let you know when I need for you to be available.”
He laughed. “A woman who takes charge. I like that.”
She flushed. After so many months of feeling helpless, swept along on a tide of one misfortune after another, she was finally taking control. Maybe that sense of empowerment had gone to her head, just like the alcohol. Max didn’t seem to mind, but she probably ought to tone it down a little if she wanted to attract and retain paying clients. In this business, where perception was all, she couldn’t afford to be seen as overly aggressive. Creative, yes. Knowledgeable, definitely. Hardworking, meticulous, flexible. Yes, yes, and yes. But overbearing? Probably not.
A quick glance at her watch had her shutting down the computer and extracting a couple twenties from her purse. “It’s getting late,” she said, placing the money beneath her glass and rising. “Thanks for meeting with me. I’ll put together some things for you to review by Monday.”
“Not so fast.” He signaled to the waiter for the bill, then fished out his own wallet and replaced her money with his. By the time he caught up with her, she was nearly to the exit. “Eva, wait up.”
He wrapped his hand around her upper arm and held the door for her. She shivered, her nipples hardening beneath the flimsy T-shirt.
“Cold?”
Now that he mentioned it, she did notice the drop in temperature. Without the heat lamps creating a cozy enclave against the encroaching twilight, it was downright chilly. As a long-time Santa Monica resident, Eva was used to the sharp contrast between balmy days and cool nights. Usually she carried an extra layer with her, but when she’d gone to the library earlier, she hadn’t expected to stay out so late. This impromptu meeting with Max had caught her off-guard in more ways than one.
She felt her shoulder bag being lifted. “What…?”
He draped his jacket, still carrying a hint of his cologne, over her shoulders. “Better?”
“Yes, thanks. But what about you?”
He stuffed the folded bills he’d retrieved earlier into her bag and tucked the entire thing under his other arm. “I’ll be fine. Hot-blooded, you know.”
She ignored his attempt at humor. “I can carry my own purse.”
“Where’s your car?”
“I walked.”
“In that case, come on. I’ll drive you home.”
He led her a short distance down the block, where he’d apparently managed to find a coveted parking spot. A red Ferrari convertible. Of course.
He waited until she was buckled in, then handed over her bag and shut the door.
“Where to?”
She directed him, sneaking peeks at his profile as he drove. Straight nose, strong chin, wide shoulders and gym-sculpted arms that seemed to crowd her in the cramped confines of the front seat. She dropped her gaze to his fingers as he adjusted the temperature controls. What would those fingers feel like on her skin? Smooth, or a
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