Page 27 of Forty, Flirty & Fired

This was…fun, as hard as that might be to admit.

As we stand to leave, I notice several other diners watching us. Mac notices, too.

"Great," she mutters. "I give it twelve hours before Keith starts a rumor that we're secretly plotting a corporate overthrow."

"Only twelve? You underestimate him.”

She laughs, and I find myself reluctant to end the evening. Outside, the valet brings my car around.

“Really?" Her gaze follows the Rolls Royce. "This is a bit on the nose, isn't it?"

"It's reliable," I defend.

"It's a rolling billboard that says 'compensating for something.'"

"I can assure you, Ms. Gallo.” My stare drills into hers. “I have never needed to compensate for anything in my entire life.”

Her eyes flick briefly downward, then back to my face. I can see her small throat move even in the relative dark.

I glance around. “The car I sent for you…”

It’s here.

The black sedan pulls up, and like the gentleman I’ve been raised to be, I open the back door.

Mac moves forward, but stops just before stepping inside. "Thank you for dinner," she says finally.

"Thank you for the insights."

"And for not firing me after my champagne assault."

"Oh, I definitely considered it. But then I realized how boring board meetings would be without someone challenging every word out of my mouth."

She shakes her head. "I do enjoy watching Gerald's blood pressure rise every time I speak."

"It's a particular shade of purple when you mention 'emotional intelligence.'"

She smiles, and for a moment, the humid Seattle air feels even heavier.

Until her phone chimes.

She checks it, her expression shifting.

"My sister.” She gathers her purse. "Apparently my grandmother is threatening to disown me for not paying her a ‘proper visit’.”

"Sounds serious."

"Nonna doesn't make idle threats.”

The formidable brunette blinks as I reach out a hand to help her in the sedan’s back seat. But she takes it.

She starts to move, but I don't let go immediately. My thumb brushes against the inside of her wrist, lingering just enough to feel her pulse beat in double-time. Her lips parting, she inhales, her brown eyes darkening.

Her gaze drops.

Not to the car…but to my mouth.

I lean closer, heat rolling off me as my grip subtly tightens. Her breath catches, and for a fleeting second, I'm certain she's leaning in too.

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