Page 15 of Ready to Snap
I return my attention to the menu, letting her sit with the lie. For a steakhouse, I’m genuinely impressed there are lighter options—I’ll need to come back another time to try a little of everything. I’m not in the mood for a salad or chicken, and when I scan the burger options, I chuckle to myself, spotting a blue cheese burger—Russ’ favorite.
He fell for Scarlett because of their shared love for what has to be one of the most pungent burgers known to man. I’m tempted to order it—even if it’s overpriced at thirty dollars for meat, cheese, and bun—in hopes it’ll grant me the same outcome with Elle. To be safe, I return to the page with steak and settle on a petite filet with sautéed vegetables. I’m craving mashed potatoes and am tempted to order them as an extra side. My trainer would hound me for a month if I admitted to eating carbs this late at night, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.
I bring my bourbon to my lips and ask into the glass, “How is the brand deal with the energy drink company going?”
The first genuine smile I’ve seen all evening threatens to split her face, but she quickly tucks it away. “Good, thanks.”
“You secured it, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, I did.” Unable to contain her pride, her wide grin escapes her stronghold.
“Well, that is certainly something to celebrate.” I raise my glass for her to clink hers with mine. The ice and amber liquid slosh as they touch, making her chuckle. “I’m proud of you.”
“There’s nothing to be proud of.” She pulls back, and I hate that she isn’t basking in her success. Her focus is on media,not brand endorsements, but she made a connection and capitalized on it. A win is a win. “It was a team effort.”
“That you spearheaded,” I add. “Enjoy your win, gorgeous. You deserve it.”
Elle lets out a defeated sigh and sets down her bourbon. “You need to stop calling megorgeous.”
“You want me to lie to you?”
“No.” Every second that passes as she collects her thoughts, I become increasingly nervous. She could end my career with the snap of her fingers. “What are we doing, Will?”
The question takes me by surprise, but as Vicky would suggest, I should tell the truth. “I apologize for not being clear, but I?—”
“Sorry for the delay,” our server saves me from divulging that I’d throw my career away if she wanted me. “Thank you so much for waiting. Have you two decided?”
“I know what I want,” I reply without looking away from Elle.
To my surprise, she holds my gaze. “I know what I want as well.” Our server waits for her expectantly, but the staredown continues. After what feels like eternity, she finally replies, “Petite filet, please.”
“I… uh…” I manage, but my words are stuck in my mouth. Is she seriously going to order the same thing? It’s feeling eerily familiar to the story Russ told me about meeting Scarlett. “I’ll have the same.”
“We typically serve the filet cooked medium-rare. Is that all right?”
“Yes, she’s perfect as is.”
Shit! Did I just say she?
Elle still doesn’t look away. “Same, but I’d love to add the mashed potatoes. It’s a cheat day for the team, which means it’s a cheat day for me too.” She briefly bites her lip. “I may as well enjoy myself.”
Our server’s eyes wander, and so help me, if he doesn’t take his blue orbs off her perfect tits, I’ll dislocate them from their sockets. To keep myself from saying or doing something reckless, I include, “I’d also like mashed potatoes. And another round for both of us.Thank you.” If nothing else, it’ll get the prick a hundred feet from my girl. He rushes off, and Elle rolls her eyes. “What?”
“Nothing,” she groans. “Just typical pissing match bullshit.”
I let out a full laugh. “Pissing match?”
“Yeah. A pissing match. I didn’t take you for being the jealous type.”
“I’m not jealous,” I scoff, and she cocks an eyebrow. “All right, you caught me. You’re easily the most beautiful woman here. Nearly every man—and most women—have checked you out since we arrived.”
“They haven’t, but you’re the one who suggested I wear this dress.”
Resuming our staredown, we both sip our bourbon. “It isn’t the dress. I promised we would only talk about the game and not how I want to toss you over my shoulder like a damn caveman and steal you away for the night. So, how are you spinning my injury?”
“You don’t have an injury.” She sets down her glass and straightens her posture. “You’re in peak physical condition and have been cleared by all medical personnel.”
My brows pinch. “But that’s not true”
