"Your soup is getting cold."
"I don't care about the soup, Cora, I care about you. Do you understand that?" His words are powerful and make me question literally everything.
How can someone look at me the way he is but not have feelings for me? Maybe he just feels sorry for me after what he walked into at the unit and felt obligated to keep an eye on me. Maybe the fluttering in my chest is mine and mine alone, and I'm like a kid sister to him or something.
Maybe I'm like our clueless waitress, fawning over a guy who isn't interested at all.
Be professional, Cora.
I slide my hand out from under his, the warmth of his touch lingering on my skin as I blurt out, "I brought the design portfolio so we could go over it." I reach into my bag and plop the thing onto the table, flipping through the pages and ignoring whatever it is that Miller might be doing. I can't face him, not yet. I need to pull myself together first and focus on why I'm really here.
Shoving the thing across the table, I point at the page. "I was thinking maybe something like this, but if you'd like, I can present a few other options."
"Cora," Miller says with a stern tone. "Cora," he repeats with a bit more intensity without raising his voice too much.
"Yeah?" I distract myself by downing the rest of my martini before looking at him.
"I did not ask you here because I was worried about the designs."
"Oh?" My stomach sinks at the endless thoughts that rack my brain. Is this because of what happened at the unit? Some sort of blackmail initiation? Why would he give me a stack of cash and his Black Amex if he had bad intentions though? None of this makes sense and the longer he takes to respond, the tighter my stomach curls into a knot.
"I wanted to see you."
"But what about the..." I glance down at the design portfolio.
"You can decorate the unit however you want to."
"But it's yours," I tell him, as if that will get him to have some input.
"And I trust that whatever you decide will look great." Miller's jaw tenses and his nostrils flare slightly. His lips part like he's holding back whatever he's about to say next. "Cora, do you find me attractive?"
My eyes widen. "What? I mean, yes, no, wait, I shouldn't have said that." I glance down at the barely touched bowl of soup. "This is good soup, don't you think?" I scoop some up and practically shove it into my mouth to shut me the hell up.
For the first time since we arrived, I desperately wish for that waitress to appear out of nowhere and bring me another martini or twelve.
Why would he ask me such a thing?
And why would I react like a blubbering fucking idiot who can't form words?
Miller tugs the corner of his lip into his mouth and drags his teeth along it before sighing. "Okay then."
"Sorry," I say, probably making things worse. "You're obviously a very attractive man, Miller. I didn't mean to imply you weren't. I was just surprised by the question." I swirl the soup around and wish there was a way to drown myself in it to escape how awkward I've made things.
"So youdothink I'm attractive?" He raises an eyebrow.
"I just said so, didn't I?" I grin at him and point to the fancy bourbon sitting near him. "Can I have another drink of that?"
"Yeah, of course." Miller gives it to me without hesitation and then flits his attention around the quiet area until he spots his target. He raises two lazy fingers toward her and a moment later, my savior appears.
"Sir?" The waitress seems grateful, and I don't blame her.
"Another Boss Hog and..." He pauses and motions to my empty martini glass. "Another round of drinks."
"Thank you," I tell her as she nods and scurries away.
I busy myself with the soup and Miller does the same, grabbing one of the chunks of bread and breaking it apart and dropping it in his bowl.
The waitress comes back, leaving our drinks and taking our empty bowls. "Your second course will be out momentarily."
