From that, I infer that Declan doesn’t conduct any direct dealings with or for the hotel, but he’s often around. Does she mean he works behind the scenes, or that anything he does here is unrelated to business operations?
Her earlier caginess about the penthouse tracks. I’d bet the contents of my bank account that’s where Declan’s conducting business this very moment.
I hide the excitement of my discovery by sipping my whiskey. “Is there anything you don’t do, Maeve?”
My compliment thaws the tension I created easily enough, though I note her discomfort.
Anything that makes her defensive or uncomfortable is a potential weak spot to exploit later.
Perhaps the greatest surprise of the evening is that I’ve enjoyed our dinner so far.
I keep the conversation flowing, shifting to casual and personal topics before cycling back to business. Sharing a personal detail always acts as an effective softener before I sneak in the leading questions.
“I’ve always loved the East Coast, don’t get me wrong, but the Pacific just hits differently. It’s no wonder the Cypress does so well. Though I imagine things might slow down in the winter. Do you tend to lose revenue over the cooler months?”
Maeve’s response includes some probing of her own.
“We manage our budget to cover year-round profitability. Some of our busiest times are actually in Santa Monica’s offseason, because locals love hosting winter weddings and conferences here. Plus, our weather’s always good.” The smooth, evasive retort comes without a beat. “I read that Zenith recently lost a rather large contract with that real estate developer in Virginia. Were you involved with that?”
Admiration fills me as she turns the tables. There’s nothing I enjoy more than facing a worthy opponent…as long as I win in the end. She’s forcing me to conjure up lies on the fly.
Lucky for me, I’m great at my job. Even if he didn’t know this at the time, Finn sent the best.
Another man might find her unpredictability frustrating, but this sort of challenge excites me.
The hunt is never any fun when the prey is too easy to catch.
Under different circumstances, I might even ask her on arealdate.
Maeve Gallagher is quick-witted, savvy, and funny. Her physical beauty is just icing on the cake.
But I can’t get distracted. Not even by that cute little beauty mark on her cheek just below her right eye.
I have a job to perform, and nothing will get in my way. Not if I hope to earn a high-level role within Finn’s operation, as well as his trust. With a little luck, I’ll get to fuck Maeve in addition to extracting the information I need on Nolan Doyle’s whereabouts.
Apart from that, she means nothing.
Eventually, our server returns to the table with the dessert menu. While Maeve declines any sweets, I know from my research that she likes them.
I give the server a breezy smile. “I’ll have the tiramisu.” Turning to Maeve, I hold out the menu. “You sure you don’t want anything?”
She shakes her head. “I’m fine, but thank you.”
When the tiramisu arrives, a layered square of creamy, espresso-soaked perfection, I raise an eyebrow at Maeve and gesture toward the dessert. Her online habits point to a serious sweet tooth, and a post from a few months back identified tiramisu as her absolute favorite.
“Care for a bite?”
Her eyes fall straight to the plate. The hungry expression she directs at the little confection—a slight widening of her eyes, a flick of her tongue against her lips—conveys that I’min.
“If you insist.” She begins to reach for her fork, but I spear a piece on my own and offer her the bite.
I’m seducing her for the job. Logically, I remember that. But as I watch her hesitate, desire gleaming in her eyes before she closes her sumptuous lips around the fork…
Her soft moan of pleasure as she explores the flavors on her tongue…
Fuck.Now all I can think about is how to put those lips to much better use.
The fact that indulging myself could restore my spot in Finn’s good graces seems too good to be true.
