“So,” I cut into the silence, “you like Italian, right?”
Her head snaps up. “How did you know?”
I chuckle, feeling an unbidden heat rise up my neck. “I pay attention to you. Also, you clicked through the Giovanni’s GrubHub menu for fifteen minutes straight yesterday. That’s some impressive commitment to indecision, and I’m pretty sure you never even ordered anything.”
She laughs, a tiny snort, and the tension in her jaw unclenches ever so slightly. “You saw that?”
“Baby, I see everything.” I wink and then squeeze her hand between my arm and body. “Fun fact, I used to be a busboy at Giovanni’s when I was a teenager. The owner still gives me free breadsticks if I promise not to tell people he was on season four of Cops.”
She laughs again, and this time, she tips her head back to look up at me. “Oh my god. You’re ridiculous.”
I put a hand over my heart. “Finally, recognition.”
She keeps giggling, and I completely take that as a win.
When we hit the lobby, I guide her through the glass doors and out onto the street. Outside, it’s mid-70s, and the sunlight illuminates Maddy’s skin. I catch myself counting the cute little freckles that dot the side of her face, completely taken by her.
Maddy Williams is by far the most eye-catching woman I’ve ever met.And that’s saying something. I’ve met—and fucked—a lot of women.
“Is it okay that you… touch me at work?” Maddy asks the question without looking at me, keeping her eyes focused on the crowd ahead of us.
I drop her arm and then wrap my arm around her waist, lean in, and plant a kiss on the top of her head. “I own the company, Maddy. I can do whatever I want. You’re not some secret I have to keep.”
She makes some sort of incoherent noise, and then stays silent for the rest of the walk to the restaurant.
I hold the door for her, and as soon as we step inside the Italian Bistro, the old hostess gives me a once-over, then beams. “Beck! You back to terrorize my staff?”
I bow low, but smirk. “Madame, you wound me.”
The older woman, whom I happen to know is the part owner, laughs, then eyes Maddy with pure maternal curiosity. “Is this a girlfriend?”
Maddy’s cheeks flame. “We’re just… he’s my boss,” she stammers, but the hostess just winks at me and ushers us to a two-top in the back.
Once we’re seated, we order two iced teas, a Caesar salad to split, and my favorite pasta—lemon ricotta ravioli, hold the garlic.
Maddy settles in across from me, and once again, she appears to be looking everywhere but me.
“Are you okay?” I ask the question as lightly as possible. I don’t want to make her feel cornered like Adrian did today.
There’s a long pause as the waitress sets down our drinks. Maddy stirs her tea and then sighs, finally peering up at me. “Why did you ask me out to lunch?”
I lean back and let my eyes go deliberately wide in the most playful way. “Ouch. ‘Ask you out’ makes it sound like it’s just a date. This, Miss Williams, is an intervention. You looked like you needed the world’s best carbs and, let’s be honest, a break from getting eviscerated by Adrian.”
She doesn’t answer right away, nor does she come close to smiling at my pathetic joke. Instead, she just stares at her drink, her lips turned down. “He hates me now.”
I hear the hurt in her voice, and it hits me.
Oh fuck. She likes him. She might be the first woman ever, too.
I swallow hard, pushing down my ego along with my surprise. “He doesn’t hate you, Maddy.” I pause, as her eyes lift.“He just hates the fact that he lost control. He probably hates the fact that he likes you so much, and he hates that I like you, too. But he likes you. A lot.”
This catches her off guard. She sips her tea, thinking it over. “You really think so? Because he’s been nothing but mean to me ever since.”
“Absolutely, he likes you, and absolutely, he will continue to be mean while he works his way through it.” I drum my fingers on the table. “But if he didn’t respect you as much as he does, he’d have fired you, or maybe had you moved to a different department, since it’s more complicated than that. Butnope, he’s keeping you.”
She mulls that over, lips pressed tight.
“And, for what it’s worth, you handled yourself like a champ,” I continue, seeing her expression soften. “If he ever talks to you like that again, just picture him naked and aging rapidly.”
