Page 4 of About that Fling
Jenna held back another big sigh as she pushed everything aside and slid her hands to her lap.
“I can promise there’s zero risk of me eating anything at my desk. So tell me, how can I help?”
Adam Thomas walked into The Corkscrew at seven forty-seven. He knew that because he glanced at his watch at least three times en route to the bar.
“Meeting someone?” the bartender asked, wiping down the mahogany surface with a cloth.
“Good guess,” Adam said, laying claim to the lone vacant barstool in the place. “Is it always this packed on a Wednesday night?”
He shrugged. “It’s Portland. A wine bar’s a hot place to be whether you’re having a business meeting or a baby shower. Can I get you a wine list, or do you know what you need?”
“I’m not sure. I just realized I got the time zone wrong and I’m an hour early for my meeting. Maybe I should come back.”
“You meeting a woman?”
“What?”
The bartender nodded toward a bistro table in a darkened corner. “That woman over there said she’s waiting for someone. Thought she might be who you’re meeting.”
Adam studied the slender brunette with glossy, shoulder-length hair and amazing legs. She’d kicked her shoes off under the table and was staring down at her phone with a slight frown. A lock of hair fell over her face, and as she reached up to tuck it behind her ear, Adam felt something twist in his gut.
“That her?” the bartender asked.
“It could be.”
Hell, he had no idea whether the hiring manager was male or female. Every email message had been signed “Kendall Freemont,” and the one phone exchange he’d attempted had given him an automated messaging system with a robotic voice.
It was possible the woman in the bar was Kendall Freemont, but more possible Adam just wanted an excuse to talk to her. He pushed himself off the barstool, legs propelling him in the direction of the mystery woman while his brain remained behind asking if this was a good idea.
“Excuse me, Ms. Freemont?”
The woman looked up and blinked at him with eyes so deeply blue, he forgot his name.
She frowned at him. “I’m sorry?”
“Kendall Freemont,” he repeated dumbly, knowing this couldn’t possibly be his eight-thirty appointment, but wanting to stay and talk to her anyway.
“Hello, Kendall—I’m Jenna. It’s nice to meet you.”
Her eyes were friendly and welcoming, not at all the expression of a woman who thought he was there to hit on her. Or if she did think that, she didn’t seem to mind. She uncrossed and recrossed her legs, and Adam forgot his name again.
“No, Adam,” he blurted. “I’m Adam, and I’m meeting Kendall, but I’m an hour early. Actually, I’m not even sure if Kendall is a man or a woman, and I thought you might be her, but you aren’t.”
It came out sounding more like a question than a statement, and Adam realized he urgently wanted her to be Kendall so he could have an excuse to sit down with her. She smiled, and his fingers clenched around the handle of his briefcase.
“Nope, I’m not Kendall, but you’re welcome to hang out if you can’t find a table.” She tucked a little neon pink card into a pocket on the back of her phone case before pushing the phone aside. “Looks like my girlfriend had something come up at the last minute, so I’m just going to finish my Pinot and head home. Feel free to park it here if you want to nab my table when I leave.”
“Thank you, that’s very kind.” Adam eased into the seat across from her and immediately felt his crotch vibrate. It took him a moment to realize he had a text message. Pulling the phone from his pocket, he glanced down.
“This must be the night for people to get stood up,” he said. “My appointment just canceled on me. Too bad, I was looking forward to that Pinot.”
“You’re a Pinot fan?”
He shrugged and shoved the phone back in his pocket. “Actually, no. I’m not even entirely sure what Pinot is. But I’ve been on a quest to try new things, so that seemed like a good one to add to my list.”
Jenna lifted her glass and signaled a passing waiter. “This particular Pinot Noir comes from right here in Oregon. An up-and-coming vineyard called Sunridge.”
“Sounds nice.”
