Those amazing eyes became even more enthralling as they smiled. “No problem.” His gaze flicked down my body. “I’m Eric McCall, I’m here for a meeting. And you are?”
“I’m Jena Drake,” I answered. “I’m one of Marilyn Larkin’s bookkeepers.”
He released my arms, but held out a hand. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Drake.”
I took his hand, swallowing hard at the heat that zinged up my arm. “Please, call me Jena, Mr. McCall.”
His smile widened but he didn’t release my hand. “Eric.”
I nodded. “Okay, Eric. If you’d like, I can show you to the conference room and get you a cup of coffee or other refreshment.”
“That sounds great, thank you.”
I managed to extricate my hand from his and gestured for him to follow me, hoping like hell I didn’t trip and make a fool of myself even more than I had when I ran into him.
My pulse still throbbed and I forced myself to take a slow deep breath. I hadn’t responded to a man like this since Justin…and King. I’d almost forgotten what it felt like.
When I showed Eric into the conference room, he insisted on making his own cup of coffee, something that I reluctantly appreciated. I felt like it was my duty to take care of a client, but I also liked that he wasn’t treating me like a lowly peon.
Marilyn came in not long after, as did her other five employees, and the meeting began. Several times during the conference, I would look up to find Eric’s eyes on me. I didn’t blush, but his gaze was openly admiring and he didn’t look away when I caught him staring. No, his eyes stayed on mine and he looked equal parts amused and flirtatious.
Eric McCall appeared to be a man who knew what he liked and he clearly wanted me to know that he liked what he saw.
I didn’t want to enjoy it, but I did.
After the meeting, he walked over to my chair where I was gathering my things.
“Jena.”
I looked up at him and smiled. “Yes, Eric?”
“Are you busy tonight?”
Though my heart picked up speed, I tried to remain casual. Shrugging, I answered, “I don’t know. Depends on why you’re asking.”
He grinned at me. “I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me.”
My body went tight. I definitely wasn’t interested in dating right now, especially not a client. I figured that I’d be over my issues with King in time for my thirtieth birthday, which was a couple months away.
Eric was much more observant than I gave him credit for. He lifted a hand. “Or how about a drink?”
“I don’t know. Marilyn frowns on her employees seeing clients socially.”
No sooner had the words come out of my mouth and Marilyn walked back into the conference room. “Oh, Eric, I didn’t know you were still here.”
We turned toward her, and Eric said, “I was just trying to convince the lovely Ms. Drake to go to have a drink with me after work.”
To my surprise, Marilyn grinned. “You don’t let any grass grow under your feet, do you?”
He shook his head. “Nope, but Jena is worried about how you might feel about it.”
“How I might feel?”
I decided to intervene. “I, uh, most businesses have a policy against employees fraternizing with clients,” I pointed out. “I didn’t think it was a good idea to-”
“Oh, Eric’s not your individual client, Jena. If you do go out with him, I’ll just make sure that you don’t work on his accounts.”
I stared at her and sighed. Oblivious to the havoc she wreaked, Marilyn gave us both a little wave and a wide smile. “See you tomorrow, Jena.” She undoubtedly thought she was playing matchmaker and envisioning that I would fall madly in love with Eric.
After she disappeared, Eric turned to me. “Well, your boss is okay with it.”
“It would appear so,” I responded.
He lifted a hand. “Look, have one drink with me. If you decide within that hour that I’m not a serial killer or a closet polygamist, then we can have dinner. Sound good?”
Just like that, my hesitance was gone. I laughed. “That sounds very nice.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up at six-thirty.”
“Um, I’d prefer to meet you.” It was Safety 101. Don’t give strangers your address. Although I liked that he was the kind of man who wanted to pick a woman up for a date.
He immediately seemed to understand and nodded. “No problem. How about Mi Cocina at six-thirty?”
“I love the margaritas there,” I answered excitedly.
Eric grinned again. “Great. Well, give me your number so I can get in touch with you if I need to.”
I nodded and we exchanged numbers.
After that was done, he stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “It was really nice meeting you, Jena,” he murmured.
“Likewise.”
My breath caught in my chest when his hand lifted and he lightly touched my chin with his index finger. Okay, maybe I was ready to date again after all.
“See you later tonight.”
“Later,” I whispered.
I watched him turn and saunter out of the room, shocked at how attractive I found him. Since the night I walked away from King, men ceased to exist in my world. He’d burned me and he’d done it badly.
No, I’d burned myself by letting my guard down for a man who couldn’t or wouldn’t do the same for me.
Considering I hadn’t heard a peep from King since I left him standing in the center of his bar, I knew I’d made the right choice. He didn’t care enough to even call or attempt to change my mind. Not that I wanted him to. Not really.
But I wouldn’t have minded if he had proven my suspicions about him to be incorrect.
With a sharp shake of my head, I put thoughts of King out of my mind. I ended things. He let me. End of story.
Chapter Twelve
‡
I walked into Mi Cocina at six-thirty and noticed that it was quiet despite the fact that most of the tables were filled. It was an excellent choice for a first date. Not too private yet quiet enough to get to know one another.
I immediately saw Eric sitting at the bar and headed straight for him. He rose to his feet, meeting me halfway.
“Hi, Jena. You look pretty.”
“Thanks.” Seeing the admiration in his eyes, I was glad I took the time to run home and change into a different outfit.
We moved to the bar and I ordered a margarita. Eric had a beer in front of him. Despite my initial reticence to accept his invitation, I found that I was enjoying myself. He was funny, smart, and direct.
It seemed I had a type. I liked that candor, because it was very clear that Eric McCall was the type of man who wouldn’t play games. Just like Justin.
After a forty-five minute chat, Eric asked, “Have I convinced you I’m not a psycho?”
I grinned. “Not quite.”
He chuckled. “Well, do you think you could decide over dinner?”
I considered him for a moment, tilting my head to the side. Now that we’d had our drink, I was hungry and I was having a good time. Dinner would be fun.
“Yeah, let’s do that.”
Eric motioned to the bartender and asked him if we could get a table. A few moments later, the hostess came over with menus and guided us to our seats.
As we exited the bar area, which was separated from the rest of the restaurant by walls that were a mixture of glass and wood, my stomach bottomed out.
Sitting in a booth against the front window, facing me, was King Sloan.
All it took was one look for me to know that he’d been sitting there for a while and I hadn’t noticed him. There was an empty plate in front of him and a bottle of beer. Though the booth partially hid her, I could see the arm and shoulder of a woman as well as a half empty margarita glass. There was a plate in front of her with a half-eaten salad.
I managed not to trip or stop moving. Instead, I forced my eyes away from him and followed the hostess. I was immensely grateful for my luck when she led us around the corner and to a table in the back room, which was out of King’s line of sight.