Her mouth purses off to the side as she watches me and considers my request. I’m surprised when she nods her head. Surprised, and then equal parts relieved, that I finally get to spend time with her outside of this office and concerned that we’re making a terrible mistake in doing so. I know the stakes, and I’m sure she does too. But I just can’t seem to help myself. “Okay, you win. Where do you want to go?”
I press my lips together in a tight smile. I hadn’t thought that far ahead, sure that she would turn me down again. “Uh, wherever is fine. You pick.”
She shoots me a conspiratorial smile, like she knows I don’t know shit about what restaurants are around the building. “Okay, how about JT’s?”
I shrug. “Sure. I don’t know what that is.”
Whitney laughs and reaches under her desk for her bag. Swinging it over her shoulder, she walks around the edge of the desk until she’s standing next to me. “It’s a pub. I’m sure there’s something there that your refined tastes will like.”
I can’t help but grin at her as she leads us out of the building. I know we’re getting a few questionable looks, but they can get over it. I’m just a CEO, having lunch with his assistant.They can whisper about us all they want, but my day has gotten infinitely better now that I get to spend time with Whitney outside of our usual setting.
We walk just a few blocks from our building, over to the hole-in-the-wall pub. The minute we step inside, I know immediately that I’m going to like whatever food I order here. Since rising to the executive level, I hardly ever find myself in small joints like this. Nowadays, I’m more likely to be stuck in a stuffy boardroom with catered food. Which is fine, but every once in a while, I still have the urge to demolish a big, greasy burger.
Whitney leads us over to a high-top table in the bar area. A waiter comes over and sets down two coasters on the table before taking our drink order and handing us some menus.
Whitney doesn’t even glance at it.
She still takes it gratefully, but lays the menu down flat on the table as soon as the waiter walks away.
I raise a brow at her. “Come here often?”
She gives me a sheepish smile and shrugs one shoulder. “Sometimes.”
“So, what’s good here?” I inquire, browsing over the menu and taking in all the options.
She laughs, and my eyes fly back up to her. “Pretty much everything. I don’t think you could order anything bad from this place.”
“Good to know,” I mumble before snapping my menu shut, decided.
The waiter returns then with our drinks: a diet soda for Whitney and water for me.
“So, how’s your day going?” Whitney asks, pulling the paper off her straw and sticking it into the ice and soda. She leans forward and wraps her lips around the straw, taking a sip of her drink.
I swallow thickly and pull my attention from her mouth. “Lots of financial reports today. So, in other words, terrible.”
“Finances aren’t your thing, huh?”
“No, that’s more my brother’s wheelhouse,” I say.
“I heard he’ll be joining us,” she says, stirring her straw around. “Was that always the plan?”
I rest my elbows on the table, leaning toward her a little more. “Kind of. I pushed for him to be appointed as CFO, because I’m terrible at numbers. He’s much better at it. We seem to balance each other well. I manage well, and he’s good with numbers and statements.”
I’m counting down the days until Chase gets to the office. I can’t wait for him to see the mess I’ve uncovered—the mess that Vance Peterson seemed to go to great lengths to bury.
She nods as if that makes perfect sense. “Have you always done realty?”
“No, actually. Before this, we worked for a textile trading corporation over in London. When this opportunity presented itself, I knew we had to jump on it. My grandfather was great friends with Vance, and when he said he was looking to retire soon, my name got put into the ring. I worked hard to come up with a proposal that stood out enough to catch the attention of the Board. Hopefully, it pays off and they’ll think I’m worth it in the long run.”
She waves her hand, dismissing my negative thoughts. “They will. I know they will. So, your brother—what’s his name?”
“Chase,” I say. “He should be starting here in the next few weeks.”
“Is he as apt for troublemaking as you are?” she says, her voice teasing.
I smirk and shake my head. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She chuckles just as the waiter arrives again to take our orders. Whitney orders the chicken parmesan sandwich with a side salad. I follow through on my thoughts from earlier and order the thickest, juiciest cheeseburger they have—with added bacon.
