Page 64 of Class Act

Doubtful my foot. How any woman resisted him was beyond me. I’d sure done a terrible job of it.

“You can’t convince me there’s no chance of that happening,” I said.

“If I tell you that I’d appreciate your bodyguard services, would that make you say yes?” he asked.

The bigger question was when had I become so comfortable with him? I was flirting and enjoying it so much. This banter had to be a result of the conversations we’d been having. I could picture his gray eyes filled with enjoyment, and I kind of wished this were happening in person.

“You’d really be checking an item off my bucket list. Where is this dinner?” I asked.

“I’ve reserved the private room at The Amaryllis.”

“That must have taken a little bit of string pulling,” I said with admiration. I knew for a fact that that particular restaurant was booked out for weeks, and forget about the private dining room being available in my lifetime. “That should impress your people. Speaking of impressing people, what’s my role here? Am I silent and coldly beautiful, or chatty and warmly distracting?”

He chuckled. “It would be helpful if you didn’t come across as a prisoner.”

“How much do I like you?”

“What do you mean?

“Hand holding, putting my head on your shoulder, giggling mindlessly at all the clever things you say, feeding you off my fork?” My toes curled in my shoes as the words flowed in a way I didn’t know I was capable of.

“If you could avoid sarcastic replies to everything I say, that would probably be enough.”

I grinned, even though he couldn’t see me. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

“Thank you. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 6:40.”

“I’ll be ready.”

“Uh, thanks, Hailey. For agreeing to come. It’ll be nice to see you in person.”

The sudden seriousness of his tone knocked me off balance, but I responded in turn. “You’re welcome. See you soon.”

I hung up and stood, tugging at the hem of my shirt as I beelined it straight to Aryn’s classroom. It was time for a pow-wow.

*****

A knock sounded on my front door at promptly 6:40 p.m. the next night. I was standing in my room in front of my full-length mirror, tugging a little here and there on a strand of hair or the sleeve of my dress. I wanted to look good. I wanted to fit in with whomever we’d be dining with. Plus, I was a little nervous to be one-on-one with Ford for the first time. Every other time we’d seen each other it had been in a group of family or friends, and I’d always had that buffer. Although, I supposed tonight we’d have a buffer of other people, too. Maybe I should be less nervous.

To be fair, there was no way to mentally prepare myself to go from cyberstalking to daydreaming about to avoiding and then to going places with this man. This was new territory, and my heart was zigzagging through my chest as though it wasn’t sure where to land.

My pale blue dress with lace overlay was tailored to my size but still loose enough to sit comfortably and eat food without being miserable. I was wearing the same strappy silver heels I’d worn to the opera, confident that I could add a few inches to my height without being taller than Ford. I’d put some curls in my short hair and done a few twists into a sort of updo that was fancier than my usual sleek bob, and I’d never admit how much time I spent on makeup. I was pleased with how the dress color brought out my periwinkle eyes and gave myself a cheesy thumbs up in the mirror before going to answer the door.

I opened it with a smile of greeting on my face, genuinely excited, and my face froze as I took him in. He looked immaculate in a light gray suit and vest with a blue tie, and I immediately dimpled without even thinking about it.

“You look great. You really will need a bodyguard tonight,” I smiled.

“Only if the other men get any ideas about you,” he said under his breath, but I heard it, and my feet wiggled in my shoes.

“We match.” I gestured from my dress to his tie. “I hope you brought me a corsage before we hit the prom.”

His lips tugged, and he surprised me by leaning in to wrap his hand around my elbow and brush his mouth against my cheek in greeting. “Do you have a jacket? It’s going to be chilly by the time we finish.”

My brain was busy for a split second, cataloging his smell and the feel of his hand on my skin. Only when he released his hold on me did I realize what he’d said, and I turned to grab the gray wrap coat that was sitting over the entry table. I beamed when I held it up.

“It’s almost creepy that this is the same color as your suit. Maybe I should grab something else?”

He shook his head. “No. I don’t want to mess up the whole ensemble you’ve got going.”

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