Page 23 of The Ex Factor

Sunday evening,he picked me up at the hotel.

“No Imran today?” I leaned in and whispered when I saw a new person driving us.

“He has the weekends off. I use a car service on the weekends and holidays.”

“I’m in dire need of good food today,” I said. “I had a hectic day.”

“No rest for the wicked, eh?”

“I was at the condo making sure things are ready so I can move in.”

“Move in?” The lilt in his voice matched the jump of his eyebrows.

When I told him what had kept me busy all week, he confessed, “I had a very different image of you when I saw you at the bar that evening.”

“Different how?”

“You don’t mind the hard work. For the owner of a company so big, you don’t mind getting your hands dirty.”

“Well, technically, Dad owns the company. I’m just an employee, and I need to earn my wages.”

His smile reached his eyes, his admiration deep in his dimples.

“What’s that smile for?” I asked.

He shook his head. “So, how’s the place?” he queried instead.

“Do you even need to ask?”

He let out a low chuckle.

“If you want to be my neighbor, there is another unit available,” I blurted, then instantly regretted it. What was it about this man that made me drop my guard without thinking?

He flashed me the smile that was a salve to my soul. “I wouldn’t mind if you lived here,” he said softly. “But you are a visitor. You’ll eventually return, and then I’ll be twice as lonely.”

“True.” I nodded. It wasn’t the time to mention the possibility of a new office and perhaps my move to the region. Not yet. Not before I’d talked with Dad, anyway.

That was another thing I was keeping from my father. After Sameer, I wanted to move out of Dallas. It was getting claustrophobic. Not that I’d be hung up on him for life, but the waters had been muddied. Moving in the same circles in the same city ensured some amount of awkwardness, no matter how repentant and gracious Sameer and Tara were.

When the car dropped us at the very crowded restaurant, a man in a lightly stained apron promptly directed us to a quiet table in a secluded corner and disappeared just as mysteriously.

“Let me guess, you know the chef,” I said.

He tried to evade the question by looking down at the menu in his hand.

“Sujit?” I said in my sweetest voice, and it got me the desired result.

He looked into my eyes, and my heart stumbled over itself before he answered, “I’ve been coming here since I was in college. He wasn’t this big, celebrated chef at that time. We both were just…ordinary people,” he said with a shrug.

I smiled. “Those are the best kind of connections, but I doubt that you were everjust ordinary, Mr. Sujit Rao. Don’t forget, I’ve studied you and your résumé.”

“Oh?” he cried with raised brows. “Have you now?”

“Indeed,” I said, trying to choke the smile that was threatening to bloom on my face.

“And what have you learned?”

He placed the menu back on the table and crossed his arms. I caught his biceps bulge through the powder blue cashmere sweater he had chosen that evening. My mind rushed to the night he’d put his arm around me to thwart my fall. The gentle scent of his fresh cologne combined with the luxurious smell of the whisky on his breath had a visceral effect on my body. I’d found myself wet and turned on like I had never felt before.

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