Page 9 of The Physical Attraction Seminar
His expression softens. “Extremely.”
“Interesting,” I hum. “Any kids?”
“Not yet.” One corner of his lips curls upward, and I swear my ovaries explode. “Do you still want four kids?”
I accidentally choke on my saliva, and I accidentally choke on my saliva, and a cough gets caught in my lungs. “Four?”
“Don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just obeying thedoctor’s orders.” He holds his hands up to show a clear sign of his innocence.
He’s hot. He’s rich. He’s funny.
When are the red flags going to start waving?
“If we’re husband and wife, you should probably tell me your name.”
“I was wondering how long it would take you to ask.” His voice is confident and warm as he extends his hand over the table. “Call me Harrison.”
“Last name?” As I slip my hand into his, noticing a spark of electricity coursing through our intertwined fingers.
“I’ll tell you mine when you tell me yours.”
Without uttering a single word, our eyes meet, and the unspoken connection between us becomes impossible to ignore.
I don’t want to be presumptuous in assuming that this attraction will progress beyond this table, but on the off chance it does, it will only be a one-time thing. If I’m going to focus on climbing the corporate ladder at this new company, I need to eliminate any outside distractions.
“No last names.”
A slow smile creeps over his face as he says, “Deal.” Then we exchange a firm handshake, sealing our agreement.
FOUR
BARRETT
I likeher more than I care to admit.
From what I can tell, she doesn’t know who I am. Which isn’t much of a surprise considering how much effort I put into keeping my name out of the press. Unlike my brother, whose name and photo are splattered all over magazines, I prefer to keep my life as private as possible.
Sure, a few of my headshots circulate from time to time when company news is publicized, but you won’t find much about me on the internet aside from that unless you go digging.
Not only that, but she didn’t flinch when I ordered a bottle of wine equivalent to most people’s monthly salary. That can only mean one of two things—she’s accustomed to an affluent lifestyle, or she’s blissfully unaware. My bets are on the latter.
The restaurant has a romantic ambiance, with the melodic clinking of cutlery and the gentle hum of conversations filling the air. Lanterns overhead emit a soft,golden light that bathes the tables in a warm glow. I can’t help but notice the couples sitting around us exchange flirtatious glances and playful banter, which adds a touch of tension to the atmosphere.
Our server arrives with the wine but is quickly interrupted by another table, leaving us to wait to give our orders. I turn my attention back to my date and narrow my eyes at her, leaning forward with a hushed voice that only she can hear. “Do you plan on telling me your real name, or do you want to stick with the alias you’ve invented?”
She inhales sharply, her eyes darting down to the table, as a deep blush spreads across her cheeks. She thought she got away with a harmless lie, but the way she nervously stuttered her name and shifted her gaze to avoid eye contact gave away her guilt. The average person may not have recognized it, but the countless meetings I’ve attended with shady business executives over the years have honed my ability to detect subtle lies.
When my date finally meets my eyes, I’m the first to break the silence. “Who’s Camila?”
“Roommate. Best Friend. Coworker.” She rattles off the list, her dark bangs framing her face as she toys with the stem of her wine glass.
“Funny. I have a colleague who shares that name,” I mention casually, as if it’s just a minor coincidence. “What do you do for work? If you don’t mind me asking.”
A soft groan escapes her lips like a weary sigh. “I guess I should call her my former coworker now. My role was eliminated this morning. It’s all a bit…” she trails off.
“Complicated?” I finish her sentence for her.
With a barely noticeable nod, her eyes flicker downward, fixated on the table. “I have another job lined up, but I’m not sure that it will work out.”
