Page 66 of Class Act

Conversation that had paused when we entered now kicked up again as the people around the table made introductions. I could feel their curious looks in my direction while Ford walked around shaking hands and the maître d’ pulled out my chair to seat me in style. I thanked him before he bowed at the neck and exited the room. I watched Ford as he worked the table, putting on a charming show that I found incredible. I could speak to people and be polite, but I was never able to be the center of attention in that way. Well, at least outside of a classroom.

“And who is this lovely young lady you brought with you tonight?” one of the other women asked.

Ford turned to me. “This is Hailey Thomas,” he said, extending a hand in my direction. “We met through my little girl.”

The oohs and aahs that went around the table after that pronouncement had me convinced that he’d planned it out beforehand, knowing exactly how others would react to it. It sounded like he was a loving father and, aw shucks, he’d been lucky enough to meet a pretty lady. I kept my smile in place, but it was hard to keep my eyes from good-naturedly rolling as I thought, ‘Yeah, and he wanted nothing to do with me at first.’

Instead, I turned to my left, where a middle-aged woman was seated and struck up a conversation with her. Her name was Gianna, and we hit it off immediately, a boon I hadn’t been expecting. Gianna was a mother of three teenagers, she loved to cook, and she’d traveled as much as I had with my parents. By the time Ford sat next to me and the menus were passed around, I’d been filled in on the fact that everyone at the table was a player in the natural supplements world and they were hoping to score a deal with Ford as he prepared to go international. That’s not what I had thought was going on here. I’d thought Ford was wooing clients, not that he’d be the one getting wooed. I said so to Gianna, and she laughed behind her hand.

“Oh, he did come up with the date, time, and location, but that’s only after my husband’s company had been after him for a long time. My Randy is so excited about this dinner; he’ll probably not stop talking about it for months.”

“Assuming it goes his way,” I joked kindly.

She tapped her nose. “Exactly.”

“Hailey?” Ford got my attention from my other side and handed me a one sheet menu.

“I’ve heard that they change their menu each month, so it’ll be fun to try something new,” I said cheerfully as I took it from him and began greedily scanning it.

The others were bent over their menus, too, each couple with their heads together discussing what they wanted to eat. I half expected Ford to pipe up and offer to order for the table, and when he didn’t, I looked at him.

“You’re not going to tell everyone what’s good here?” I asked.

“No. I’m not.”

“Huh.”

“What does ‘huh’ mean?”

“It means that I saw you as the guy who orders for the table.”

He turned slightly so he was facing me more directly and kept his voice low enough that no one else could hear. He put one arm along the back of my chair, his fingertips landing on my shoulder so feather soft I wondered if he realized he was touching me.

“You have some strange ideas about me, sometimes. I don’t bully people, and I’m not pompous.”

Nerves tumbled through my insides as the jokes were put away for a moment. “I guess maybe I’m still a little wary after the first time we met.”

“Why?” he seemed genuinely confused.

“Because you accused me of scheming to get close to you, and then I watched you at your birthday party working the room like a politician. I figured you had a really high opinion of yourself and liked to be in charge of everything.”

He didn’t immediately respond but looked back at the menu with a thoughtful expression. His fingertips slowly grazed my shoulder, nearing my neck and then working their way back down again. I couldn’t stop a shiver that caused one side of his mouth to inch up.

“Anything else I should know?” he said at last.

“No, nothing comes to mind.” My voice was a timid squeak.

“Good.” His eyes met mine, and he blinked slowly before apparently deciding to change the subject. “What do you think of this room?”

I let out a breath and cleared my throat. “Amazing.”

“After we eat, the string quartet will play for dancing.”

“Dancing? Really?” I took the chance to slip back into teasing mode--a place I’d feel most comfortable with him--and flashed my dimples. “Maybe you can use that opportunity to dance with some of the women and get the dirt on what this group wants from you.”

“That’s . . . okay . . . not really what I was expecting you to say.” He reached for his water and took a deep swallow.

“What did you think I’d say?” I asked. “Oh, were you hoping I’d dance with the men and flirt their secrets out?” I glanced around at each one, pretending to think about it, and then back at Ford. “I’m game.”

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