“Tonight?” I almost choked, the balmy Southern California air suddenly feeling thick and suffocating.
“Yeah. Tonight. Why waste time? I want to see you.”
Still unable to wrap my head around the fact that Walker Rhodes was interested in me, I stuttered, “Why? You don’t even know me.”
The line was silent and I actually pulled the phone away from my ear to make sure our call hadn’t disconnected. When I realized it hadn’t, I pressed it back against my head and waited for his response.
“I’d really like to,” he finally said. “Get to know you, that is. Let me take you to dinner. I can pick you up, or meet you there. Whatever makes you the most comfortable.”
Frustrated that I was being forced to do this to keep my job, I said tightly, “I’ll meet you there. I’d rather take my own car. What time and where?”
“Eight o’clock at Vine’s.”
I clenched my teeth, knowing how fancy a restaurant Vine’s was. It catered to the celebrities and always made their clientele comfortable, but it was ridiculously expensive. Dealing with the rich and famous all day long definitely helped fuel my need for normalcy at night. A place like Vine’s was somewhere I’d never normally frequent, not that I hadn’t eaten there before. I had. Many times. But truth be told, I always hated it. I wasn’t into the whole “see and be seen” lifestyle, and it made me uncomfortable.
Glancing down at my work attire, I was thankful I hadn’t worn jeans that day. My knee-length leopard print skirt that I’d paired with a long-sleeved black silk blouse would definitely work for dinner. Not to mention the killer black heels I sported. I wouldn’t have to go home and change if I needed to work late; I could just head straight there from the office.
“Madison? You know where it is, right? The one in the city, not the one in Santa Monica.”
I resigned myself to a night of uncomfortable opulence. “I know where it is. I’ll see you there.” Ending the call before he could say anything more, I immediately regretted that I hadn’t called him from my work phone. Now Walker Rhodes had my cell phone number.
Damn it.
I’d have to deal with that later.
Carefully, I hopped off the wall and thought about looking up the Vine’s website when I got back to my desk. It had been over a year since I’d last been there and I liked to be prepared, so I would check out their dinner menu online and have my order carefully picked out before I arrived. At least the fake dinner date would go quicker that way. No pesky details to hem and haw over.
I typed out a text message to Keri as I walked toward my building’s entrance.
Got blackmailed into going out with Walker tonight. Jayson said if I didn’t go out with him he’d fire me. Going to Vine’s tonight at 8. Kill me now.
My phone beeped with a text response as I entered the elevator and pressed the button for the eighth floor.
Kill you? I’ll kill Jayson. You know that’s not legal. If he fires you, I’ll help you sue the living shit out of him and then you can run that company.
A quiet giggle escaped as I read her words and I knew she was right. What Jayson was doing wasn’t legal. But I felt trapped, and I knew how things in this industry worked. Shit like this happened all the time, and if you filed a lawsuit, the whole town would know about it and you’d be blacklisted before you updated your résumé. This was a who-you-know industry in a big who-you-know town. I planned to keep my mouth shut and do what I was told, no matter how much I hated it.
I popped my head around Jayson’s door and knocked quietly before announcing, “I have dinner with Walker tonight. Just thought you’d want to know.”
A sinister smile spread across his face, a face I could no longer look at without wanting to beat into a pulp. “Great. Where are you going and when? Make sure you talk business.”
I sighed. “Vine’s at eight. I can’t promise that he’ll sign with us. I have no control over what this guy does with his life. But I’ll try, okay? That’s the best I can do.”
Jayson gave me a smarmy smirk and said, “I’m sure you can do better than that,” before turning back to his work.
I handed the valet the keys to my Jetta and silently hoped that Walker would already be waiting inside. The last thing I wanted was to be here before him, which was why I’d purposely arrived fifteen minutes late. If the swarm of paparazzi outside the brick building were any indication, Walker was already here.
One of the guys lugging a camera leaped toward me as I adjusted my skirt and blouse, but another camera-wielding life-ruiner touched his shoulder and said, “She’s no one,” as I moved to enter the restaurant. Nothing made you feel better than hearing a low-life paparazzi jerk-off call you a “no one.”
After weaving through the maze of outdoor seating, I followed the short pathway to the front doors. As I stepped inside, the hostess looked up from her podium with a fake, tight-lipped smile.
“Good evening. Do you have a reservation?” Written all over her Botox-injected face was the fact that she hoped I didn’t.
“I’m meeting Walker Rhodes for dinner. Do you know if he’s here already?”
Her expression soured as she took me in from head to toe before announcing, “Ah, yes, he is. You’re late. Right this way.”
I followed behind her perfectly sculpted ass and fought the urge to trip her just so I could watch her fall. All this hostility toward me lately was making me violent. I needed a drink. Heads turned and eyes watched me, tracing my path, obviously curious if I was the one meeting Walker in the back. He might have been in a more secluded section of the restaurant, but everyone still knew he was here. I suddenly wished I was better at faking it.
When the hostess waved her hand toward the booth where Walker was waiting, I flashed a closed-mouth smile and muttered thanks in my snarkiest voice.
“Problem already?” Walker joked and I noticed how relaxed he looked, leaning casually into the back of the booth with a beer in hand. The long sleeves of his unbuttoned flannel shirt covered up his tattoos and his well-sculpted arms.
Pity.
“She’s sort of a bitch. Sorry I’m late. Traffic,” I lied.
“No problem, I planned on waiting all night if I had to.” His hazel eyes met mine and I gave him a quick grin as I felt myself blush at his words.
“Come, sit.” He patted the seat cushion next to him in the semicircular booth and I scooted into it, leaving enough space for a person or two to fit between us. The configuration was awkward, and I wished we were sitting across from each other like normal people.
He leaned over and gave me a lopsided grin that made my heart flutter. “You can move closer. I don’t bite.”
I closed my eyes a second to keep from rolling them, then said, “I’m good. Plus, I don’t even know you. You might bite.”
Okay, I might have flirted back. I wanted to hate him or be annoyed by him, but it was really hard when he was this close. His stupid good looks disarmed me, even though I wasn’t normally the type to fall at a celebrity’s feet. I couldn’t in my line of work. But Walker was nothing if not charming, without even trying. It seemed like he was simply made that way. If you took one smidgeon of allure, mixed it with two dashes of handsome, tossed in a devilish grin and eyes that could stop world wars, you’d have Walker Rhodes. And that irritated me, which in turn reminded me that I was here against my will.
Thankful for the prompt service from our waitress, I turned my attention in her direction and away from Walker’s innate animal magnetism.
Rahr.
“Good evening, my name’s Rachel. Can I start you off with something to drink?”
“Yes!” I responded a little too enthusiastically and Walker chuckled into his fist. I shot him a glare before asking, “May I please get a whiskey sour?”