“Good morning, Molly!” Jack says to my chest as I walk into the gym.
“Hi.”My chest is doing great this morning, no thanks to you, and it really doesn’t want to be stared at so closely.
“In case you didn’t know, your father bought some personal training sessions.”
Ohshit. Did Dad tell him who they were for? “Ah, yeah, he said something about that.”
“I gave him a special discount, being family and all.” Jack beams at my cleavage. I wouldn’t be shocked if he starts discussing a bosom discount.
“Great. Thanks.”
“But my offer to train you for free still stands!”
So you can put your hands all over my body? Ha! I don’t think so. “Thank you. You’ll be the first to know when I decide I need to start exercising! Anyway, gotta get going here. Those accounts aren’t going to reconcile themselves!”
“Hey, no reason to work so hard.”
I wag a finger at him. “Oh no, thereis. You’repayingme to work hard. But I’m gonna work just as hard, considering your offer!”
I give him a little wave, slip into my tiny office and lock the door. Although Jack would love it if I let him be gross with my chest to his heart’s content, I’m not going to waste my time that way. Besides, as long as I draw a salary here, I plan to do my job. If he needs a chest to flirt with, he can buy himself a bust.
A little before noon, there are knocks at my door. “Yo, Molly. It’s Arturo.”
I get up to answer him. “Hi.”Wonder what he wants.Most trainers don’t have any reason to visit accounting, unless there’s a problem with their pay. But there’s no payday this week, so…
Arturo is looking fresh and massive, as usual, and has gotten a new haircut. “You ready for lunch?”
“Lunch…?”Shoot. I totally forgot. I brought some lasagna that I could microwave, but I can’t possibly say that to Arturo’s hopeful, smiling face. “Yes, of course. Lemme just grab my purse.” Anoh shitsensation congeals in my belly. “So where are we going?”
“You like Italian?”
“I love Italian.”I was about to have lasagna.
“Awesome. I know a place not too far from here.”
Arturo drives us to a fairly upscale bistro about fifteen minutes away. I’ve seen it a few times, but never eaten inside. The dark wood and ivory exterior are elegant, and some cheerful classical music I’ve heard before floats in the air like lovely little petals. Already I can smell bread, butter, garlic, olive oil and tomato sauce. The bar to our right is packed with the lunch crowd. A huge TV is tuned to a muted sports channel. A waitress carrying a gigantic tray laden with plates crosses the packed dining area, quick and sure as a ballerina.
A hostess in a black-and-white uniform eyes Arturo like he’s six foot, two inches of cheesecake, then sobers when he frowns at her. But he must be used to female attention. Just on a physical basis he beats Owen handily, and my ex isn’t too bad himself. Women often ran their eyes all over him when we were out, which never failed to make him preen and laugh with good humor.
Arturo and I bypass the long line of people and get a secluded table by the window.
“Already scored a reservation,” he explains.
“Smart move, with all the people here. But what if I was in the mood for something else?”
He grins. “Nah. Everyone loves Italian.”
Laughing, I pick up the faux-leather-bound menu, then purse my lips with surprise and slight dismay. A lot of items are kind of expensive for just a friendly lunch out with a coworker. I’d expect this kind of splurge from a guy I’d dated for several months—or maybe earlier in a relationship if he was trying to impress me.
“Anybody else coming to this belated birthday celebration?”
“Nope. Just the two of us.”
A server comes over. Arturo orders chicken parmesan, and I get clam pasta lightly tossed with basil olive oil. When the waiter’s gone, I sip my water and look at Arturo over my glass. Is he trying to get something romantic going?
But if that’s the case, wouldn’t he have asked if I was in a relationship first? I have to be overthinking the situation. It’s possible he didn’t know how expensive the place was either. Or maybe this just isn’t that much money for him.
“You okay?” Arturo asks.
