Page 21 of Man Seeking Woman

"I know, but I do—or rather I did." Picking up the fork next to my plate, I twisted the prongs into the top of the table. "It's easy to imagine the dream, but it's a lot harder to grasp it."

"Yeah, it's one thing to visit, but another thing to try and throw down roots here. Where are you from originally?"

"Rhode Island."

"I've been there for work, it's a nice little state. Do you have family there still?"

His questions seemed irrelevant, but I was willing to do this small talk game if he thought it would help move us into the reason I was there to begin with.

"I do, my mother and sister still live there."

"Wow, so you took a leap of faith and decided to move here all alone, that's impressive." His voice flowed smooth as cognac, spilling out with ease. The richness in his tone tugged on my heart strings, turning the even beat into an erratic and viscious pounding.

"My mother doesn't think so, but I can't live for her, I have to live for myself. But, I'm not really alone, I have my best friend here. I've just always felt like I belonged here, I can't explain it, but the city called to me."

"New York does that to people. I'm originally from North Carolina, but this place drew my parents in. We moved here when I was about ten, been here ever since."

"That must have been tough, to move away as a kid to a new place."

August's lip twitched at the corner into a playful smile. "It worked out for the best." Stroking his jaw, I felt his gaze as it traveled around my face, down my neck and over my chest. "You have beautiful eyes," he said.

"Thank you." My voice wavered as my sex began to pulse with arousal. Shifting in my chair, I crossed my leg.

"You really do, I'm not just saying that."

I was fidgety, placing down the fork and plucking at the tablecloth, wondering how to sell myself to this man. The whole point of this was for a job, not my life history, not to flirt. . .

Shit. What if it was an ad for sex?

Swallowing hard, I cleared my throat, ready to move the conversation to why we were having this meeting. "So your ad, it mentioned children, I'm guessing you're looking for some help at home?"

"Do you like kids?" he asked, bouncing his brows off his hairline. Veering his stare, he watched me curiously, but I couldn't tell what type of answer he was looking for.

"I do actually. I've made my life about them. . ." Pausing, I smiled. "Them and music. I'm a teacher, well, trying to be anyway."

"I'm really happy to know you like kids. Have you ever thought about having any of your own?"

Does that really matter?

It was starting to bother me that he wasn't asking me about my experience with kids, or if I had ever been a nanny or caregiver before. I mean, those are the questions that mattered, not my personal opinion on having my own, not my eyes or my looks.

The waiter came back, interupting the conversation, and placing our drinks down. "Are we ready to order?"

Holding up his hand, August sent him away. "Give us a few more minutes, Sergio."

"Of course." Bowing lightly, Sergio walked away.

August slid a menu across the table, his eyes never leaving mine. "Here, you can order anything you want. The salmon is amazing, the chef uses orange and rosemary, it's delicous."

Alright, this is getting way too close to an actual date.

It was hard to look past the sexy beast across from me, knowing that if we had met at a bar I wouldn't have thought twice about making a night with him, but that wasn't what this was. This dinner had a purpose, and it didn't revolve around the possibility of seeing his bed.

Forcing an uncomfortable smile, I said, "Honestly, I'd really like to know something first." Thinning his lips, August nodded in approval. "What are we doing here? I mean, what exactly am I interviewing for?"

"You're not hungry?"

"No, it's not that, it's just this is starting feel a lot like a date and not about a job. I think it would be nice if I knew what the job was for."

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