“Macho? Murderous? Malignant?” Cleo filled in, her voice soft, innocent.
Swanson huffed. “Yes, because those are common male names beginning with M. You’re so clever, Cleo.” Clearly, he didn’t mean a word he said. “Why am I not surprised?” He bit into a wrap, dismissing Cleo with ease.
Before Cleo could get a verbal bite in, Zoe said, “You know, this is great, you two being here. Because I have a prior—”
“Zoe. Hey there.” Gavin swooped down and planted a kiss on her cheek. “You’re looking good, as usual.”
She blushed, not used to having her personal life mix with business. Though she shouldn’t be embarrassed. It wasn’t as if working for SMP mandated she live a monk-like existence.
Cleo gaped at Gavin as if unsure he was real. Not that Zoe could blame her. Gavin wore jeans and a dark-gray T-shirt that clung lovingly to his torso, exposing every inch of muscle. The gray color made his eyes pop, and she’d bet ten bucks he knew the fact and exploited it.
Swanson gave Gavin a thorough once-over she couldn’t read.
“Who isthis?” Cleo asked, though she knew darned well who it was.
Zoe frowned at her to behave. “Cleo, Mr. Swanson, meet Gavin Donnigan, a good friend of mine. Gavin, they work with me at the medical group.”
“I’m also her best friend,” Cleo announced and took Gavin’s proffered hand with enthusiasm, holding longer than could be considered polite.
Gavin just grinned.
Zoe sighed. “Cleo.”
Cleo winked at him. “Oh, sorry. Forgot I was holding him, blinded by all his muscles.”
Gavin chuckled, and even Zoe grinned. Cleo could say things Zoe could never get away with, sounding cute and flirty but not over the top, probably because she looked so mischievous and innocent at the same time. Not like Zoe, who was often compared to a steamroller or an Amazon. And that had been complimentary.
Swanson offered his hand, and he and Gavin shook and let go. Propriety upheld, though she didn’t see any friendships blossoming there.
Gavin glanced at her and the group. “Should I come back another time? If you’re busy, I can—”
Cleo interrupted. “No, no. We’re butting in on your date, apparently. Aren’t we, Mr. M. Swanson?”
“No, we’re not. This is a working lunch.” He grudgingly conceded, “Though you’re more than welcome to join us, Gavin. And call me Mark.”
“Thanks.” Gavin smiled, squeezed Zoe’s shoulder, and said, “I’ll be right back.” He left to place his order.
“If you’d said you had a prior engagement, I’d have understood,” Swanson said.
“I sent you an email,” Zoe told him.
“Oh, that.” He took a sip of his drink. “I thought that was you trying to weasel your way out of a meeting. I didn’t know you really had plans.”
“Nice,” Cleo muttered. “So you’re not a total dick all the time.”
“Cleo!” Zoe wondered if she’d have to pry the pair apart once the gloves really came off. Swanson had never been one to let bygones be bygones without a reckoning first.
“Not all the time, no,” Swanson said with a half smile. Amused?
Cleo snorted. “Well, at least you’re honest.”
“More than some.” He glanced at her.
Zoe watched the back-and-forth, entertained despite herself.
Cleo raised a brow. “What does that mean?”
“Weren’t you the one bragging to everyone the other day about your Army boyfriend soon becoming a fiancé? Yet today you’re flirting with Zoe’s goodfriend.”
