I breathed in the scent of his aftershave and felt the heat of his body against my back. And nothing else.
I took his hand this time and led him past the artists hanging their work on the iron fences around Jackson Square, not letting go until we reached the covered patio at Café du Monde.
We found a spot under the fans at one of the outdoor tables. As soon as John was seated across from me, I slid my feet out of my shoes and swallowed a groan of relief. I had no trouble walking in heels. My mother made me practice as soon as I was old enough for my first pair of kitten heels. The wedges I’d put on that morning would barely register on normal days, but we’d walked over ten blocks and my feet felt it. At least I hadn’t had to worry about navigating the gravel and uneven pavement at the cemetery in spiked heels.
Even in just his dress shirt and slacks, John looked impeccably put together. Somewhere around Toulouse, he’d pushed up his sleeves and the rolled cuffs showcased his strong forearms. I’d felt the strength in his hands as we walked through the city. Everything about this man was exactly the way I’d design it. So why didn’t I feel more?
“You were right about everything. The food, the cemetery tour, and the walk through Jackson Square to here.” He smiled at me across the small table, and I waited for my heart to do a little flip or something.
“Say it again.” I met his gaze, willing my body to respond. Maybe my aching feet were distracting me from something more. “I love being right.”
“You were right.” He chuckled. “I’m exhausted. I’ll sleep on the plane for a change, but it’s worth it. This was a great day. Thank you for taking the time.”
“It was my pleasure. I love this city. It’s a joy to share it with someone else, especially someone as interested and attentive as you.” It was true. I always enjoyed wandering the city, even if it was over well-worn paths. But John asked dozens of questions about history and architecture and how things worked. He had a quick mind, and he paid attention to everything. Showing him the city had been a treat.
The white paper-capped server set a cup of café au lait in front of each of us and a plate piled high with powdered sugar-covered beignets in the middle of the table.
“You need to eat them while they’re hot.” I reached for a beignet. “Watch out for the powdered sugar.”
I waited for him to bite into the pillow of fried dough, stifling a giggle when powdered sugar rained over him.
“This will make getting through security interesting.” He brushed at the white speckles on his dark pants, mostly rubbing them in and not off. “Don’t care. It’s worth it.” He took another bite, leaning over the table this time.
I bit into my own beignet and held back a groan of pleasure at the hot fried dough. The powdered sugar practically made a paste with the fat. It was a good thing we’d walked as much as we had. I could eat my pastry without thinking about adding time in the Pilates studio.
“I forgot to thank you for sending Jake Collins our way. I think my IT person is in love. I got pages of gushing emails. Did you know Jake was nominated for a Hopper?” He took a sip of his coffee, watching me over the rim of his cup. “I mean, I assume you did. My project was miles—light-years—below his pay grade. I want to feel bad about taking advantage of him, but he fixed the system and had it running, bug-free, in record time.”
I froze, the beignet between my lips. I had to find a way to force myself to swallow before John realized something was off. I had no idea Jake was nominated for a Hopper. I had no idea what a Hopper was. Beyond codes and computers, I didn’t know what Jake did. He’d tried to explain some of it to me after we played slutty secretary, but I’d been so blissed out post spanking, I hadn’t paid as much attention as I should have.
“You must be very good friends—or he owes you for something—to call in a favor like that.” John kept his gaze pinned on me. “I appreciate you doing it for me.”
I swallowed and smiled in what I hoped was a reassuring way. Not one that betrayed how little I really knew about Jake or what our relationship was to each other.
“I’m glad he could help.”
“I know you’re not married. My people do their research,” he said, holding up his second beignet as if to ward off potential offense.
I couldn’t be offended. I did research too. On clients and dates, which made the thing with Jake that much harder to take. I’d done the minimal amount of digging to feel safe and no more because I’d never seen him as a potential partner. I felt like a snob. I didn’t like that I’d made so many wrong assumptions or that knowing the truth changed the way I thought about him.
I’d seen the disheveled appearance and the missing hand towels and assumed a level of incompetence Jake hadn’t deserved. I knew he had money, but I guess I’d never connected it with his skill. The way a person looked on paper shouldn’t determine their value, but I’d been acting as if it did. I’d worked against that my entire adult life, fighting against the idea that my looks determined my worth. I hated how ingrained the idea was in me and how easy it had been to slide into old ways of thinking.
“Are you seeing anyone special?” John asked, fending off more powdered sugar.
I thought about the sex toy date I’d had to cancel for today’s lunch, and everything I didn’t know about Jake.
“Nothing serious.” I gave the most honest answer I could manage and waited.
“Good,” he said, looking more satisfied than even the excellent pastry warranted. “I know there is a client-designer power dynamic between us. I don’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable. I won’t. If you tell me to back off, I will and I promise it won’t affect our working relationship. Your designs stand on their own, Elena. You’ve earned this project.We are lucky to have you.” He leaned forward and picked up his coffee cup, his long, strong fingers wrapping around the heavy white ceramic. “You’re also a very beautiful woman. Poised, interesting, with a Southern charm that fascinates me. I’d like a chance to get to know you better. To see you outside of work.”
I took a sip of café au lait to clear my throat and give myself a moment to decide how to respond. I wasn’t naïve about men and their power, but I believed him when he said whatever I decided wouldn’t affect the work. John was smart, attentive, and accomplished. Exactly the kind of man I should be with.
I felt like an asshole about what a snob I’d been with Jake, but it didn’t change the fact that he’d been clear he didn’t want a relationship.
“I’d like that too.” Jumping into dating didn’t sit right, but maybe there was something in between. A way to move forward with the project and the man. “There’s a mental health gala in two weeks. Many of the people you should meet will be there. It’s dinner and dancing and a chance to do some empire building.”
“You are both gorgeous and efficient.” A smile lit his face, and he reached for my hand, lacing our fingers together. “It’s a date.”
Now I just had to decide if I wanted it to be.
