Page 59 of V is for Valentine
“Good point.” He certainly hadn’t been shy around her, pretty much pouring out his love life wins and losses and never once hitting on her. “When?”
“Tonight or tomorrow? I’m leaving Saturday morning.”
“Tomorrow,” she said.
“What time do you get off work?”
Good question. “Let’s play it safe. We can meet at eight at—”
She was about to say Pizza Bob’s, when he said, “The bar at Le Petit Holly? I went there last night, and it was quiet.”
She hadn’t realized that the new upscale restaurant had a bar, but if he wanted quiet, why not?
“The bar is beer and wine only,” he added.
“I hadn’t planned on knocking back boilermakers, so that works for me.” A glass of wine, some financial conversation. It would get her into the mood for going back to work in four days.
“See you there. Eight o’clock.”
She did not say, “It’s a date,” because she didn’t for one minute want him to think it was one.
She ended the call and pocketed her phone as Danny came into the room, a lemon bismark in one hand. “The sprayer jammed, but I got it going and I’m done up there.”
“Great. I’ll start painting upstairs.”
“I’ll move down here. We’ll once again have a floor between us.”
Felicity settled a hand on her hip. “You speak as if I need a floor between us.”
“All signs point to yes.”
“Meaning?”
He leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb, exuding male confidence, which in turn made her itch to take him down a notch. Either that, or to wipe the smug look off his face by kissing him.
Felicity tilted up her chin, a movement she did so often with Danny that her neck sometimes felt stiff. “Meaning that I don’t need a floor between us. I can control myself quite nicely in your presence.”
As she was proving to herself at that very moment.
He lifted his eyebrows in a you-know-you-can’t-resist-me way, and she exhaled loudly, something else she did a lot in his presence, mainly to buy time while she thought of a proper response.
Today she was fresh out of proper responses.
“I’m officially inviting you to a celebratory dinner on February 14th.”
“Celebrating what?” she asked suspiciously.
“The completion of the project, of course. What did you think I meant?”
“Gee. I wonder what?”
“Does it matter what?” He hadn’t moved but it felt like he was closer. “A nice dinner. Say at Pizza Bob’s.”
She perked up. “Pizza Bob’s?” That she could handle.
“Only the finest. I promise I won’t bring flowers.” He tilted his head to one side. “It’s not an attempt to rewrite your V-Day PTSD. Just an evening out before you go.”
She gave a slow nod. “I’ll take it under advisement. The only rub is that my flight leaves late that night. I have to be at work the next morning.”
