Just a Taste [Private Relations 1] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 8

  Nodding, Sara said, “You’re right. I’m making this bigger than it is. We’ll date and see where it goes. I can always end it if things get too heavy, right?”

  Elle smirked and said, “Yep. Always happy to talk you off the ledge.”

  Perking up, Elle said, “Oh. In other news, Marc came to get his shit the other day and asked about the table. I told him I gave it away. He was livid.”

  “Wish I had seen that smug prick’s face when you told him. Hell, I was hoping to run into him when he came back to get his things. I’m just all excited because I don’t have to be nice to him anymore.”

  Laughing, Elle said, “I think he may have been specifically avoiding you. I think he’s kind of afraid of you. Can’t say I blame him, either.” Sara finished the remainder of her wine and said, “Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for letting me ramble. We’ve got a date this Friday, so I may be calling you Thursday to help me pick an outfit. I feel kind of like a teenage girl.”

  Elle giggled, then said, “Hmm. Did he give you any hint yet as to what you’re doing?”

  Frowning, Sara said, “No. Not really. I’ll pump him for details tomorrow.”

  By noon Wednesday, the brisket was in the warmer, the beans were ready to go, and she was moving the coleslaw and garlic toast onto the serving cart. Adding the peach pie and the apple pie that had recently come out the oven to the next shelf of the cart, she took stock. Remembering what she’d left off, she walked to the freezer and grabbed the tub of handmade vanilla ice cream. Placing it on the cart, she rolled the cart toward the kitchen doors.

  As she left the kitchen and headed to the service elevator, Deacon rounded the corner, his face breaking into a smile.

  “Just the woman I wanted to see. Is that everything? Did you need help?”

  Sara shook her head. “This is all of it. Bret already left. This job was much smaller this time so it was easier to handle myself. Just headed up now. There’s already water, soda, tea, and coffee up there, right?”

  “Yep. We’ve got the beverages up there from this morning already. C’mon, I’ll go up with you.”

  Once they were in the elevator, Deacon said, staring at her lips, “This no contact at work thing is a killer.”

  Nodding, Sara said, “Tougher than I thought it was gonna be. There’s something about you that just drives me crazy.”

  The elevator doors slid open with a ding.

  Deacon stared at her for a moment, then grinned and said, “More on that later, please.”

  Laughing, Sara followed him off the elevator.

  Walking toward the conference room, some of the sexual tension dissipated. By the time she walked through the doors, she was able to function like a reasonable human being again. Setting up the meal, the dishes, the cutlery, and new drink glasses, she gave the table a once-over.

  Deacon sniffed the air appreciatively and said, “I’ve got a good feeling about this meal.”

  Pulling the ice cream from the bottom of the cart and nestling it in a tub of ice, Sara said, “Oh?”

  Making a slight whimper, he asked, “Is that homemade?” gesturing to the ice cream.

  Nodding, Sara said, “Of course.”

  Deacon said, again, “Really good feeling about this.”

  Sara laughed and asked, “Will that be all?”

  Deacon’s eyes darkened again and he advanced a step, saying, “No. I’d like—”

  The door to the conference room opened and the staff from Cynertex came back in, one of them saying, “Ooh. Is that lunch?”

  Removing the lids, Sara said, “Enjoy.”

  She watched the group pile food onto their plates and move back toward the table. After a moment, one of the men at the table said, “Excuse me, ma’am. Are you from Texas?”

  Shaking her head, she said, “No, I’m not.”

  Gesturing to the food, he asked, “The barbecue sauce is spot on. What did you put in it?”

  Smiling, she said, “Molasses. I’m so glad you like it.”

  Addressing the entire room now, she said, “Enjoy your meal!” and then she slipped out of the conference room and headed back to the elevator.

  Deacon texted her about two o’clock and told her that the meeting had broken up for the day, so she went back to up collect the remnants of the meal. Stacking it on the cart, she made her way back to the freight elevator and down to the kitchen to finish cleaning up.

  By 3:30 p.m. she was cleaned up and ready to leave. She was more than a little disappointed that she hadn’t seen Deacon again. Texting him, she said she was leaving for the day.

  Immediately he responded back saying, In a meeting now. Was hoping to see you before you left. Will call you later?

  Feeling an absurd sense of relief, Sara responded. Sure. I welcome any distraction. A little prep tonight, but mostly catching up on paperwork :(

  Putting her phone in her pocket, she checked through the kitchen one more time to make sure it was in good order, then left through the loading dock, and headed back to the shop to work on payroll, invoicing, and prep for tomorrow’s engagement party.

  Chapter 10

  When the folks from Cynertex had issued the invitation to happy hour, he felt obligated to accept. By the time 7:00 p.m. rolled around, he was regretting his decision to go. One of the women, a tall brunette named Melody, kept touching his arm and pressing her breasts against him.

  The whole group was drunk. They had been drinking steadily since 5:00 p.m. and didn’t seem to be slowing down. He was just glad that they’d settled in at the bar inside their hotel. It would’ve been a total pain in the ass to arrange car service for ten people.

  When she slid him her room key, he was done. It was getting uncomfortable, honestly. He didn’t want to be rude, but he wasn’t interested. She was loud, clingy and unattractively drunk. And she wasn’t Sara.

  If he had been drinking, he supposed that would be a sobering thought. Finishing the last of the club soda he’d been nursing all night, he finally made his excuses, citing an early day tomorrow. It ended up taking another fifteen minutes of handshaking to fully extract himself from the group, and specifically Melody.

  Finally, after one last good-bye, he made it out of the bar and into his vehicle. He felt the beginnings of a tension headache creeping up the back of his neck. He just wanted some food and a shower.

  The traffic was surprisingly light so he was able to make it home in about fifteen minutes. Pulling into the sub-garage, he took the elevator up to his floor, already beginning to feel the tension ease in his neck. After a hot shower, and a grilled cheese sandwich, he stretched out of the couch and called Sara.

  She picked up on the fourth ring.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, gorgeous. How are you?”

  Laughing, Sara said, “I was just up to my forearms in ham mousse. I assure there’s nothing gorgeous about that. I’m good, though. Wrapped up paperwork, and now I’m finishing the prep work for a job tomorrow.”

  Curling his lip in disgust, he said, “Ham mousse? That sounds…disgusting.”

  Laughing again, Sara agreed.

  “You’re right. It’s totally vile, but not everyone has a discerning palate like you.”

  Snorting as he thought about the grilled cheese he had just eaten, Deacon said, “Yeah. That’s me. Discerning.”

  Sara asked, “So. Can I get a hint about what we might be doing on Friday? So I can dress appropriately?”

  Deacon said, “You should dress casually and warmly.”

  He could practically hear the wheels turning in her mind.

  “You’re not giving me any hint as to what we’re doing at all?” she asked.

  “I hadn’t intended that it be a secret, but your desire to know makes me wanna not tell you now,” Deacon said, a smile playing on his lips.

  Hearing her say, “Mmhmm,” dryly made him laugh softly.

  He said, “Oh. Lunch was amazing today, by the way. The one guy who talked to you, Chuck, couldn’t stop
raving about it. It went over really well.”

  “Awesome. It’s always good to hear positive feedback. How did the meeting go?”

  “Pretty well. I feel like we accomplished all the things we were supposed to. I ended up going out to happy hour with them after the meeting. I kinda felt obligated, since they asked me. Those people can freaking drink. It was ridiculous. Remember the amazon woman? Brown hair?”

  “Yeah? I think so. Why?”

  “She was clingy and obnoxious the whole night. I didn’t get out of there ’til after 7:00 p.m. I wish you would’ve been there with me. I could have used you as my human shield.”

  Laughing, Sara asked, “Drunk Amazons don’t do it for you, then?”

  Smirking, Deacon said, “Not a chance. Lately I find myself into one sassy redhead in particular.”

  After a short pause, Sara asked softly, “Oh really?”

  Deacon could hear the smile in her voice. He replied, “Yeah really.”

  After chatting for a few more minutes, Sara said she had to get back to the ham mousse. After getting her promise to text her address to him, they agreed he’d come pick her up at 7:00 p.m. on Friday.

  Hanging up the phone, he smiled.

  Sara was interesting. She was usually confident, but she had these moments of shyness and insecurity that cropped up every so often. It baffled him, because she was kind of amazing. But the other night she seemed baffled that he’d want to have dinner with her at JDC.

  The more he thought about it, the more he wondered whether she was holding the past against him still or whether she just truly didn’t understand how into her he was. This definitely warranted further exploration. But not tonight.

  Tonight, he was going to bed.

  Waking up early the next morning, Deacon hit the gym before work. He was able to get in a half hour of weights and a quick run on the treadmill. Showering and getting dressed, he got to the office at 9:15 a.m.

  The receptionist, Heather, handed him his messages from yesterday afternoon. Thanking her, he grabbed a cup of coffee, walked into his office and scanned through his inbox. Seeing an e-mail from his contact at Cynertex, he scanned through it and replied quickly.

  Apparently, the meeting had gone really well. With a fist pump, Deacon forwarded the e-mail to Jim and Chris. This particular deal was his baby, so to speak. Right now JDC was working primarily with sports teams and athletes. Diversifying their client base to serve other corporations could be very lucrative. This deal was a very good thing.

  Feeling energized by this development, he was able to dive into the day with a new level of satisfaction. By noon, he had popped into the accounting department to check on the restructuring progress, met with Jim to go over the outcome of the Cynertex meeting, and worked up an appetite.

  Having no desire to grab a sandwich at the commissary, he grabbed his wallet and phone, and asked Heather to hold his calls ’til 1:00 p.m. Going downstairs, he decided to walk down to the food truck on the corner and get some tacos.

  On his way there, he checked his messages on his phone. Seeing he had a text from Sara he opened it. Hope your day is going well!

  Responding he said, Going really well, actually. Cynertex signed with us this morning.

  A moment later, she texted back. Awesome!! i know how great it is when someone finally signs a contract after a long negotiation.

  Laughing, Deacon answered, i bet you do…how’s your day going?

  His phone buzzed a moment later with her response. It gave me great joy to generate JDC’s first bill. I must say…

  Laughing, Deacon texted back, im sure it did. About to grab tacos for lunch. Will talk to you later, beautiful.

  Smiling, he read her reply. K, talk soon :)

  When he approached the taco truck, he saw Chris waiting for his food, having already ordered. Chris took one look at his face and said, “What’s that goofy grin about? I somehow doubt that’s Cynertex related.”

  His ridiculous grin turned into a smirk as he answered, “Eat me.”

  “So how are things going with caterer lady?” Chris asked with a knowing grin.

  The stupid grin slid back onto his face of its own volition. Deacon said, “We’ve got a date on Friday. It’s going good so far.”

  Snorting, Chris said, “That goofy ass grin is back.…you’re in trouble, dude.”

  Deacon nodded, “Yeah. Probably. How’d the other night go after I left? Any interest in…Kellie?”

  Chris winced and said, “I couldn’t get past that giggle. It was more like a high-pitched…whinny. I think it was even annoying your sister by the end of the night. She just kept looking away and massaging her temples.”

  “Ha. I’ll have to ask her about that. Oh so get this shit. Last night the guys from Cynertex asked me to meet them out for happy hour. I didn’t really want to go, but …you know.”

  Frowning, Chris said, “Yeah. You can’t really tell someone dangling on the hook no, right?”

  Nodding in agreement, Deacon continued.

  “So we go to their hotel bar and, dude. They got tanked. This brunette amazon on staff? She kept shoving her tits in my face and grabbing my arm. Gave me her fucking room key. She was so loud and obnoxiously drunk.”

  Deacon’s face crinkled in disgust.

  Snorting, Chris said, “So no amazon action for you?”

  Shaking his head, he said, “No. I’m just relieved she wasn’t a decision maker because I had to be pretty direct with her. She wasn’t understanding my subtle brush offs.”

  Grabbing his food from the window, Chris said, “I’m just glad it all worked out. I’m gonna go eat this. I’ve got a 1:00 p.m. See you later, man.”

  Nodding, Deacon said, “If you get time, stop by and let me know what happened in San Diego. Did it go well?”

  Grinning, Chris gave him a thumbs-up and then walked back toward the building.

  After ordering his meal, Deacon sat on the bench near the truck and ate it. He wasn’t looking forward to going back into the building. He had blocked out time this afternoon to go over the expense reports. It was probably his least favorite activity of all time, next to getting a root canal.

  By 4:30 p.m., he was convinced his entire staff was screwing with him. He’d been finding a ton of unauthorized expenses. Weird stuff, too. One report cited three yards of nylon rope, one jar petroleum jelly, and three dozen eggs. Another, one plunger, thirty packages of Jell-O pudding snacks, and one roll industrial packing tape. His favorite so far had been one rubber mallet, one tub of margarine, and one copy of Driving Miss Daisy.

  Dialing Chris’s extension, Deacon said, “So I’ve been going over last month’s expense reports…”

  At Chris’s guffaw, Deacon said, “Really? I’m going to have to bill them for this shit. You are such an asshole.”

  Hanging up, Deacon leaned back in his chair. Chris had gotten him pretty good. He really couldn’t let the moment pass without some sort of retaliation, though. Tapping his pen, he thought for a moment.

  Smirking he began writing a very sternly worked company-wide memo about unauthorized expenses. Advising that any future violations of policy would result in action up to and including termination, he snickered. Suck on that.

  After sending it to only Chris and the idiots from the sales team, he drafted the reimbursement requests, laughing at the outlandish items. Looking at the remaining stack, he realized it was going to be a long night.

  Chapter 11

  By the time Friday evening came around, Sara was a bundle of nerves. Not able to remember the last time she had anticipated a date so much, she took special care with her clothing choice and makeup. After giving herself a spritz of perfume, she moved to the couch to play with Smitty until Deacon arrived.

  At 6:55 p.m. on the dot, the doorbell rang. Sara took a couple of deep breaths, rose from the couch, and opened the door. Deacon stood there in faded jeans, a dark T-shirt and a dark leather jacket. Sara wanted to crawl all over him.

  Resisting the
urge, she said, “Hey, c’mon in. Let me go get my jacket.”

  Stepping back, she motioned for him to come in and turned to grab her jacket and purse from the dining room. Deacon snagged her hand and said, “Hey. Come here for a minute. I’ve been dying to do this for days.”

  Pulling her close, his lips brushed over hers, then clung for a moment.

  Releasing her with a smile, he said, “Better.”

  Looking around her living room, taking in the bright colors, he said, “This place feels like you.”

  Walking over to grab her jacket and bag, she stopped to scratch Smitty’s ears before she left, saying, “No girls or loud parties while I’m gone.”

  Laughing, Deacon said, “Is that typically a problem?”

  Locking the front door, Sara smirked and said, “You’d be surprised. Wow. Nice car.”

  A shiny black Audi TT Roadster sat behind her mini-cooper in the drive.

  “So,” Sara asked him, “Are you planning on telling me where we’re going? Is this warm enough, do you think?” Sara gestured to her clothing.

  Opening the passenger side door, Deacon appraised her once more and then cleared his throat, saying, “That should be good.”

  She was really glad she had dressed pretty casually, too. She had ended up going with a green sweater with a pair of black skinny jeans. She’d paired it with her black, glittery flats. If the look in his eyes was any indication at all, he was pleased by her selection as well.

  After helping her into the car and closing the door, Deacon walked around to his side of the car and got in. Starting the car, Deacon finally said, “So I was thinking we could go to the Santa Monica Pier. I didn’t want to do anything cliché, like dinner and a movie.”

  Sara’s eyes lit, “Oh cool. I haven’t been there before. Now I can see why you said to dress warmly.”

  Backing out of her driveway, his gaze briefly shifted to her, “You’ve never been there? Really?”