Page 21 of Not Safe For Work

“Most of them,” I concede. “You’re a rockstar. And I’m sorry Mitch hasn’t realized that yet.”

She doesn’t respond, just offers a half-smile. I take a moment to look around the room again at all the photos she’s taken. It feels like I’m reading a treasure map to all her favorite spots in the bay.

“I’ve got an idea. Let’s blow off work Friday morning.”

“I can’t just blow off work, Scottie. I’m not you.”

“Everyone will be busy with the board meeting, they won’t even notice. I’ll tell Mitch we’re both working from home since we’ll be riding to the off-site together.”

“We will?”

“Yep. We’re going on a field trip. Ever been on a motorcycle?”

CHAPTER SEVEN

OLIVIA

27 Months Ago

“Wereyou surprised that I asked you out?” Ian inquires from across the table.

I’m not sure how to answer the question. I was definitely surprised when one of our board members decided to speak to me at all. But once he started hitting on me, no, getting my number wasn’t exactly a surprise.

“Definitely,” I reply. It feels like the response he’s looking for.

“Do you like wine?”

“Actually—”

“Don’t worry, I’ll order. I know it’s confusing. They have excellent wine here. I bet I can find something you’ll love.”

I’m not sure why I don’t speak up, but it feels like he wants to impress me. It feels kind of nice that he wants to impress me. Well, it feels nice until he orders a cab that’s extremely overpriced and way too dry. But I can look past that.

“You know you’re the most beautiful woman in the restaurant, right?” It doesn’t feel like a question, so I don’trespond, but my cheeks heat nonetheless. “Everyone here is probably wondering what you could possibly be doing with me.”

“I doubt anyone would think that.” And it’s true. Ian’s not just handsome, he has this air about him that lets you know he’s won at life.

He grins. I like it when he grins at me.

When the waiter returns, Ian whispers to him, ordering both of us something that’s not even on the menu. Our server actually winks before he walks away.

“What was that?” I ask, hoping he didn’t order one of the many things I’m allergic to.

“A surprise.” He takes my hand in his over the table. “Just humor me and pretend like it isn’t painfully obvious how hard I’m trying here.”

Our date continues with him showering me with compliments. I’m not sure how well we get to know each other, but I do learn a lot about his job. It’s impressive that he’s the youngest partner at his venture capitalist firm. He gets to work with clients all over the world.

The furthest I’ve traveled from home is Colorado.

When our meal arrives, Ian’s excitement only grows. He explains every detail of the three raw courses we’ll be sharing as if I’ve never eaten fish before.

“They only serve this to five tables a night. That’s why it’s not on the main menu. Do you know how lucky you are that you came with me?” he asks before popping another piece of flounder in his mouth. This man really loves rhetorical questions.

I’ve always enjoyed food. My oldest brother is an incredible chef and because of him, I’ve understood wine pairings since I was old enough to drink—which in my family was age nine.

Ian made it clear his special order was expensive, so I know I shouldn’t complain, but the delicate scallop crudo being washeddown by the heavy tannins in this cabernet is honestly theworst. I didn’t plan on ordering dessert, but I get a slice of flourless chocolate cake just so my taste buds don’t go on strike.

And when he feeds me a bite of cake from across the table, his eyes glued to my lips the whole time, all is forgiven. I’ve forgotten anything that didn’t contribute to this being the perfect date.

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