Page 15 of The Bachelor Auction

He licks his lips. Slowly. Deliberately.

I fight the urge to roll my eyes.

It’s so obvious why Tyler Becks flew me in, and it sure wasn’t the result of looking at my impressive résumé.

That one night. That one dress. Damn Brenda. She’s a great friend, don’t get me wrong, what with her focus on spiritual improvement and all that, but she couldn’t dress business appropriate if her life depended on it.

“Em?” Brenda prompts on the other end of the line.

“I’ll call you back.” I disconnect the call before she can reply, and slowly focus my gaze on the guy still smirking at me.

“My private conversations are none of your business,” I hiss. “Now, if you’ll excuse me I have—”

“Somewhere else to be?” Tyler prompts, amused, finishing my sentence.

“I was going to say ‘somewhereimportantto be. ’”

His brows shoot up. “Like the business meeting you’re about to blow?”

My cheeks catch fire. I hope I haven’t turned as red as I think I have.

Tyler assesses me with a challenging glint in his eyes. “I thought you wanted to prove yourself. This is your chance, and yet you don’t seem very keen on taking it.”

I jut my chin out, wondering how he could be so spot on without even knowing me. “I want to prove myself.”

“Then why are you bailing?”

Yes, why indeed?

I try to make sense of my own reaction, and fail miserably. My business success depends on this job. It’s make-it or break-it. Tyler Becks is giving me an amazing opportunity while I’m making a big ass out of myself. All I have to do is discuss business over dinner with this guy.

How hard could that possibly be?

“I wasn’t bailing.” My gaze holds his. “I just realized I’m not dressed appropriately for the restaurant you chose. I was going to change quickly and then join you.”

I hold my breath as I wait for his response, silently praying that he won’t let me change because I don’t have anything remotely expensive to make me look like I belong seated at one of the tables rather than scrubbing the pots and the pans in the kitchen.

“This works just fine for me.” He points at the front of my top. “But for the sake of keeping the peace, I’ll pretend your work attire bothers me, and that I didn’t hear you calling me a creep. Why don’t you change and I’ll schedule a driver to pick you up in an hour? And then we can talk.”

“Fine.” I nod grimly and take a deep breath, mentally preparing myself for what I know is a very bad idea.

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