Should I say he looks good?I puffed out my cheeks. “I’ll drive us.”
“Oh, there’s no need.”
“I insist.”
Maurice shrugged. “Okay, if you’re going to be that way.” He chuckled. “I can’t wait to see Edgar’s face. Are you sure you’re all right with this?”
“Yes. Hell, it was my idea.”
He flipped the end of his tie back and forth and frowned as if he was thinking. “I would get it if you didn’t want anyone to accidentally hear we were dating. I don’t want to cause problems for you just to play a joke on someone.”
It was interesting to me that he was worried about my reputation and not his own, and I stored that away to consider later. “Is your concern because you’re my assistant? Anyone who works here knows you aren’t coasting.”
He flushed and shrugged.
“I’m not worried.”
A smile crept across his face. “Lacey said she hit the big one hundred in texts from Edgar today, so she’s desperate. She blames me for introducing them.” He shook his head and covered his face with his hands. “If this doesn’t work, she’s probably going to drop me in the middle of Lake Émeraude with a tasty necklace that will attract gators.”
“Oh yeah, big ones.”
He groaned, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
The phone on the desk rang and Maurice nearly leaped to answer it, jerking the handset from the cradle on the second ring. “Yes, this is Maurice Baranov.” He glanced at me, eyebrows marching up his forehead. “Yes. Yes. Thank you.” He hung up and rested his head against the back of his chair as he stared at me. “When did you tell your doctor’s office they could share your private info with me?”
“Oh, I trust you and it seemed expedient.”
His smile grew warmer. “Your cholesterol is apparently textbook perfect. No worries.”
“Excellent.” I rubbed my stomach. “I’ll be eating something fried for dinner.”
Maurice snickered, and I lifted his suit jacket from the back of his chair. He stilled as I moved behind him and didn’t say a word as he stood. I helped him slip the jacket on, then caressed my fingertips lightly over his shoulders, but I didn’t outright smooth the cloth down like I wanted to as he finished adjusting it.
“Such a gentleman,” he said, shaking his head.
Grinning, I walked around his shiny black desk stacked with paperwork. “You are my date, so you’ll receive the full treatment. No expense spared. No gesture too grand or too small shall be overlooked.”
He sputtered, and my stomach grew warm when he glared at me. “You’re knee deep in bullshit.”
“I’m not!”
He sighed, but thankfully he seemed more amused than annoyed. “You really don’t need to act this way.”
I opened the door for him and gestured out, and he ignored me as he walked through, chin tipped and nose in the air. I couldn’t help but chuckle again as I followed him. We navigated the maze of hallways that made up the innards of our workplace, then had to pass through the break room and behind the gray wooden reception desk to reach freedom. I held the glass door on our way outside, and he cut a glance at me from the corner of his eye.
“The last time I dated someone, he definitely didn’t hold doors. That’s nice. You should do that when you’re on a real date.” The fake outrage drained from his features until I was left with his usual even temperament. We walked sedately around the gray brick building to the parking lot on the side.
“What did this fellow do? Why didn’t he stand the test of time?”
Maurice sighed as I gestured to the reserved spot for my black Maserati Levante. I liked the vehicle because it was nice but not tiny. I hated small cars that felt as if they were going to get pushed off the road by a strong wind, and Maurice grinned at me as we approached it, so I hoped he liked it, too.
“Well?” I asked.
“The jerk bought me cake.”
“Cake?”
“Mm-hmm. It was a whole thing. I shouldn’t have brought it up.” He adjusted the lapels of his suit jacket and bit his lip. “It actually ended our relationship.”
