“It’s called ‘buttering you up’ back home.”
“Buttering me up?” I arch a brow, and her eyes sparkle as she grins.
“It means I’m trying to get you in a good mood so you’ll say yes to what I’m going to ask you.”
“Ah, I see.” I lean closer, catching the scent of oranges and honey, and lower my voice. “Tell me what you need and it’s yours.”
Her eyes widen slightly as she blinks up at me. “Um… just your undivided attention?” She snags her lower lip between her teeth.
“You’ve always got that.”
She lets out a cute little laugh, brushing off my comment.
“Tomorrow night, then? I can set it up?” She glances at Sinclair and then Sullivan and Mal. “Will you all be able to make it? I thought a big dinner with everyone would be perfect.”
The excitement rolling off her makes me smile, but I hide it by taking a sip of juice when I catch Sullivan watching our interaction with growing interest.
“A big dinner?” Mal asks, slurping his drink and pulling an impressed face at the taste.
“Yes. With all of you, and your wife, Trudy, isn’t it? And some of your work colleagues you’re close to? Arabella?” She looks at Sullivan. “And Molly, of course. And Denver, and whoever else you want to invite.”
“Sounds more like a wedding party. Do we need to send out invites?” Mal chuckles.
“It’s going to be so much fun.” Hallie beams, looking at me. “And I’m inviting someone special.”
“A date for my father?” Sullivan says. “Why, it sounds perfect, doesn’t it, Dad? Just what you wanted.”
He throws me a dark look which Hallie doesn’t see.
“So I can book us somewhere?” she asks me, her cheeks glowing.
I swallow down the acid rising up my windpipe. The thought of going on another date and not only having Hallie there watching us, but everyone else as well, makes me wish I could say no to her.
“Sterling?”
My name is a plea from her soft lips, disintegrating any excuses I could make.
I can’t deny this woman anything. She could ask me for the moon and I’d find a way to get it for her.
“Why don’t I get chefs in at Seasons? We can dine there before it opens,” I suggest.
“Really? That would be incredible.”
My reasons for suggesting my club are selfish. I can escape should I wish to. Say I’m going to get a bottle of wine and take my time. Pretend something came up in the kitchen with the chefs that I had to assist with.
I'd rather do anything than sit next to a woman all night who I don't know and have no interest in getting to know.
A woman who isn’t Hallie.
“Just give me a time and I’ll arrange the rest.”
“You don’t need to do that. It was my idea.”
“I’ll take care of it. I want to take care of it.”
“In that case, thank you. Let’s say seven. I’ll meet you there early, although I don’t think we’ll need to go over much beforehand. She isn’t a stranger.”
“Who is she?” I ask, apprehension slithering up my spine.
