I shrug lightly. “I sort of lost track of time.”
His eyes flicker toward my office door. “Working hard?”
“Sort of.”
His eyebrow lifts slightly. “That doesn’t sound convincing.”
I laugh. “I was doing some marketing research,” I say vaguely.
“Sounds fascinating.”
“Not really.” I grin.
He studies me for a while. Then he glances at his watch. “I was actually heading to dinner.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” I step aside slightly. “I was going home to make a peanut butter sandwich myself.”
He raises an eyebrow.
“I missed supper, and Grandma holds supper for no one,” I say, laughing.
He pauses for a moment.
“You could join me.”
I blink, surprised at the offer. “Really?”
“Why not?” His tone is casual, but his expression says even he’s surprised. “I’d like to pick your brain and hear about what you’re working on,” he says.
I hesitate for exactly two seconds. Then I smile.
“Okay.”
His lips tilt upward. “Good.”
We head toward the elevator together. The doors slide open with a soft ding.
Calliope greets us, “Good evening, Mr. Garrison. Harleigh. Going up?”
“Third floor, please,” Porter answers.
“Yes, sir,” Calliope chirps as we step inside.
The mirrored walls reflect both of us standing side by side, and I suddenly become very aware of the awkward silence.
And the fact that Porter smells faintly like expensive cologne—a smoky, rich sandalwood scent.
The elevator begins to climb.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“The Wild Sage Steak House.”
I notice Calliope’s reflection in the mirror, and she keeps her head down, but I catch her lips curving into a smile.
“Sounds fancy,” I say.
“You haven’t tried it?” he asks.
