She held up a stapler. “Oops. I don’t think I was supposed to take this from my last assignment.” She glanced at me. “Do you think I’m out to getyou?”
My gut response was no, but I wasn’t sure I could trust it. She was proving to be quite the actress—small and meek one moment, then down my throat the next. “I think you likepower.”
“Who doesn’t?” Next, she pulled out a small, diamond-shaped award and studied it. “For an essay I did on the underrepresentation of real women inmedia.”
I nodded. “I have awardstoo.”
Sort of. The soccer trophy on the shelf behind me was from a thrift store. Justin had covered the plaque with a white label and written “Sexiest Beast in the Northeast” in blackmarker.
“What’s a real woman?” Georgina didn’t strike me as the type to beinsecure.
“Do you really want toknow?”
“Why wouldn’t I? I lovewomen.”
“I don’t know you very well, Mr. Quinn, but I get the feeling you don’t date or evenknowany realwomen.”
That was a fucked-up assumption. Maybe I didn’t have the most diverse dating track record, but anyone who dared call my mom or sister fake was asking for trouble. “Tryme.”
“Okay. How about this? Five pounds that won’t budge for the life of you. Stretch marks. Ill-fitting undergarments. Period stains. Bunions that take your favorite heels out of rotation.Roots.”
I struggled to keep up. I’d been with my fair share of women, and had grown up with two, but these weren’t familiar problems. Except maybe period stains—Mom had taught me how to remove anything from any garment, sometimes against my will. “What do you mean byroots?”
She patted the top of her head. “You know—if we’re not diligent with our stylists, our true colors start toshow.”
Damn. I studied her. She wasn’t a full-on redhead, more autumn day than summer heat, but I’d assumed it was natural, and I usually had good instincts about these things. “Youtoo?”
With a sly smile, she said, “I’m nottelling.”
George had nice hair, so much that it almost threatened to overpower her. With her back to me this morning, it was the first thing I’d noticed when I’d walked into the café. A cascading blend of chocolate, maple syrup, and mahogany—just a few of my favorite things. I let my eyes wander a little lower. “I don’t see fivepounds.”
“That’s because I’ve perfected my ability to hide them.” She laughed. “Or you just aren’t looking hardenough.”
I’d never heard a woman laugh about extra weight before. If Georgina thought she was up five pounds, most likely they were located in her northern region. As in, her cup filleth over. As in, she had big tits for such a smallgirl.
The flirt in me was about to suggest she take off her clothes so I could check for any otherinsecurities—such as ill-fitting undergarments or stretch marks, both of which I doubted existed—but I bit my tongue. Now that I knew the situation, there was only one thing I wanted less than to be interested in her, and that was her thinking I mightbe.
“And no, you cannot check the fit of my bra,” she said, calling my eyes back up to herface.
Christ. Not only had she read my mind,andstolen my comeback, but she’d caught me looking. Again. I couldn’t resist. With attractive women, flirting was a reflex, like fist bumping after a soccer goal, taking a shot placed in front of me, or tearing up duringTitanic.
Yet, with our conversation, the tension in the room alleviated a little. Our easy banter reminded me of how I was with Justin or the guys on my team, but I couldn’t forget how Georgina had shown her true colors earlier at the café—and I wasn’t talking about herhair.
5
Sebastian
“Should we get started?”Georgina asked. Seated on my office couch, she’d returned to searching her box for the state of Rhode Island or whatever else she was storing inthere.
I looked down at the simple yellow legal pad on my otherwise tidy desk. I’d already started. Without her. Because this was my job and my office. “Be myguest.”
“I thought we could call a meeting with your—ourteam. This morning was a good overview, but I want to get into the nitty gritty. Come up with astrategy.”
“We meet afterlunch.”
“Well, let’s try things differently today.” She brought her laptop over, pulling up a chair to the opposite side of my desk. “I just want to let them know where westand.”
I sat back. “Where do westand?”
