An Arrangement of Love (6 page)

“Everything okay?” Lucy peeked in, startling me. “You’re standing there wiggling your head.”

“Oh. I do that sometimes. I’m fine.”
Damn these glass walls.
“I’m just excited about having a new office.”

“Well good. You’ll let me know if anything is wrong, right? You can tell me anything. I’ll help out with whatever is going on.”

“Yes.”
Goodness, she’s really attentive.

Lucy escaped into her office. My phone vibrated in my pocket. I set the files on my polished mahogany desk. A periwinkle and chocolate swivel chair rested behind it.
My office.
I beamed. My phone buzzed again. I yanked it out and checked it. Vivian had texted message.

Vivian:
How’s the job? Any murder suspects?

Me:
Fine and not funny!

Vivian:
Good.

Me:
Boss gave orders in a towel!

Vivian:
Hot?

Me:
Scorching!

Vivian:
But he didn’t harass you again, right?

Me:
Right.

Vivian:
Troy’s cooking shrimp and grits for dinner. He wants to know what time you’ll be home.

The tower of files cast a shadow on my desk. During the morning meeting, Chase had ordered me to create PowerPoints of his investors’ business proposals for next year. Each proposal required research on the idea—from defining the business to the possible revenue. Chase and I had started off badly with Saturday night’s uncomfortable conversation. So far, he’d been good on his promise of not harassing me. I had to do my best to show him I was perfect for the job. Frowning, I typed into my phone.

Me:
I won’t be home for dinner. I want to make a good impression.

Vivian:
Boo!

Chapter 6

T
he week blurred
into consecutive busy days and sleepless nights filled with coffee and nonstop work. My neck and back ached from the bad posture I maintained from my swivel chair. I’d created short, but informative, PowerPoint presentations on all one hundred and twenty-five business proposals. My fingers were numb. My wrists stung. I’d been popping Ibuprofen pills every four hours just to keep my pace. In the end, all the required assignments were completed with perfection. Pride streamed through my system and charged up my adrenaline.

I knocked on Chase’s door.

“Come on in, Jasmine.” His voice held the deep tone that, in other situations, would have triggered my panties to moisten and body to shudder.
My boss is ugly.
I’d been saying that mantra each time I caught his seductive scent, every time he brushed his body against mine as he explained a specific detail I needed to address in the presentations, and even the morning sessions with him wet, dressed in a towel.
He’s unattractive and looks like a troll.

“How is your project going? Do you need more assistance?” He leaned back in his chair. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top and reminded me of the color of melted butter. A creamy white tie lounged on the edge of his desk.
My
boss is not delicious.

“Remember. You have a month to complete the project, so take your time.” He typed something and then slid his laptop to the side.

“I’m already done.” I suppressed my smile.
Look at me. I’m impressive! Aren’t you glad you hired me?

“I should’ve expected that.” He knitted his fingers together. “You graduated top of your class. All your recommendations boasted of your hard work and dedication during internships.”

I walked to his desk and placed the box of flash drives on it.

“Hold on to them.” He held up his hand to stop me. “I want you to present ten of the best proposals to me.”

“What?” I bit my lip.

“You’ve conducted exhaustive research on each proposal, correct?”

I nodded.

“Then you must have a top ten.”

I scanned my tired brain. Several projects popped into my head. All ten had impressed me throughout my examination.

He focused his eyes on me. A hint of humor gleamed across them. “So, can you think of ten proposals you liked?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s discuss these projects over dinner.” He rose from his chair and grabbed his jacket. “I’ll bring my laptop?”

“Dinner?” I slid my thumb across the plastic edge of the box. “Tonight?”

My plan was to drop off the drives, race to my office filled with superiority, grab my belongings, and head home to sip a pre-celebration glass of champagne with Vivian and my brother. We were going to hang out at Drunken Lyrics, a café that held spoken word open mic and at midnight shifted to a stuffy reggae lounge. The only downer on the evening was that we had to listen to her boyfriend’s Noc’s poetry, but I decided I would be sloshed by then.

“Yes, dinner.” He strolled around his desk until he was in front of me, just like he’d done during my interview a week ago.

I am your god,
he’d said
. Well, I guess so.

“I can just show you the ten projects right now,” I offered. “It won’t take long.”

“I’m hungry.” He positioned himself on the edge of his desk. “Besides, we’ve both been busy this week. I would love to break bread and share a glass of wine with you.”

His words sounded innocent, but his gaze strayed to my breasts for a second.

I’d thought we’d taken care of his trying to come on to me.

“Just dinner?”

“That’s what I said.” He frowned.

“I had some plans tonight. Can I—”

“No.” Those green eyes targeted me.

“Okay,” I muttered with annoyance.

“You pick where we eat. It seems you have a knack for finding great eating spots.”

On Monday, he’d requested I be spontaneous with his lunch choices and ignore the places listed in the binder. Every day, I found a new food spot to visit or meal for him to sample.

I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face. Pride rose in my heart. “So you enjoyed your lunch selections, too?”

“They were the highlight of my days.”

We headed to the elevator. Outside his office, people hurried to gather their items. A few whispered and motioned our way. Each time I walked down this path, I tried to ignore the gossiping murmurs. Each moment seemed harder than the rest.

“What was your favorite lunch?” I asked.

“Hmmmm.” He pressed the down button. “Can I be brutally honest?”

“Definitely.”

“I never thought I would get an erection from eating a chicken salad sandwich.” Chase gestured for me to get in first when the doors opened. I laughed and then blushed at the realization of him having an erection while he ate that sandwich across from me.

“I’m sorry. Did I make you uncomfortable?” he asked.

“No.”
God yes.
“And that wasn’t just any chicken salad sandwich. That was chunks of honey roasted chicken combined with shredded smoked Gouda, sundried tomato aioli, candied walnuts, and sliced fresh grapes between two slabs of crusty French bread.”

He flashed me a concerned look. “Did you memorize the menu description?”

“Would that be weird?” I raised my eyebrows as the elevator lowered.

“Yes. That would be unsettling.”

“Then no.”

He chuckled to himself. “Wait. Should I press your floor’s button? Do you need to get your purse?”

“No.”

“Where do you put your money and keys?”

“Here.” I tapped my cleavage and then immediately regretted it.

I don’t think you’re supposed to fondle your breast in front of a new boss.

“Good place to put it.” He stared at the area longer than he should have. Since I’d been ogling his behind every morning I pretended I didn’t see.

“So what were your plans for tonight?” he asked.

“Just hanging out with my friends.”

“Is there a new boyfriend in there somewhere?”

“No. I told you during the interview I was single.”

He placed his hands in his pockets. “You did, but there’s no denying a woman as enchanting as yourself would be able to nab a man in seconds.”

I snorted. It burst from my lips and bounced off the walls. “Sorry, but I’m no seductress.”

“Maybe not.” He titled his head my way. “But you’re definitely more than I’d expected. You’ve definitely got my attention.”

I don’t want your attention.
I swallowed.
More than expected? Maybe next week I’ll ruin his lunch meals.

“So where are we going for dinner?” he asked. “Don’t spare the cost.”

“Really?” My discomfort vanished at the thought of food. The elevator halted. The doors slid open. Cool air breezed in from the lower garage.

“Give me your car keys. I’ll have Oscar drive your car to your apartment and we’ll take my limo to dinner.” Chase planted his hand on the middle of my back. An area I preferred only dates and lovers to touch.

“Okay.” I eased away from his sly fingers. My two keys and all of my credit cards lay on my right breast, underneath the top of my bra. I slipped my fingers in, pulled them out, twisted his way, and handed them to him.

“Do you ever lose your keys or money?” he asked.

“Never.”

A massive bald-headed black man stepped out of the shadows. I jumped.
Where did he come from?

“Oscar, take Ms. Montgomery’s car to her home. Here you go.” Chase handed the keys to Oscar and placed his warm hand on the same, sensitive area of my back. “So where are we eating, Jasmine?”

“What type of food do you want?”

“It doesn’t matter. You pick. Like I said, don’t worry about the cost,” he added.

I smiled so hard my cheeks hurt. “Then I would love to go to Lan.”

Chapter 7

T
he Lan restaurant
exemplified superior fine dining. Crimson circular lamps hung from high ceilings and bathed the space in a red glow. The place only had five tables because seating was exclusive. Not even Chase could get us reservations. Luckily, I’d called the sous-chef and asked if we could be fit in. I don’t know how he did it, but he called me back and told us to come on over.

“How do you know the sous-chef again?” Chase slipped his soft fingers from the center of my back to my hip as the host guided us to our table.

“He and I grew up in South End together. His name is Gabe. He’s really cool.”

So many lovely scents hit me at once—melted sugar mixed with cream, the savory aroma of fresh herbs being cut for a meal, the smoky fragrance of meat as it hit the fire. I let my eyes explore the dishes on each table.
I’m in heaven
. Colorful ingredients adorned square porcelain plates. Each dish appeared like the portrait of a dedicated artist.

Saliva drowned my tongue. My stomach groaned in complaint. The urge to interrupt conversations and ask the people what they were eating surged in me, but I forced myself to walk forward as an exhilarating sensation flowed in my blood.

I’m finally going to eat here!

Although I grew up with Gabe, I would never allow him to sneak me in and serve me for free. If the restaurant manager caught us, Gabe would’ve been fired or at least had to pay for the meal himself. Entrees started at sixty dollars and rose to over a hundred. A person could reach a bill of three hundred dollars by ordering an appetizer and two meals.
I couldn’t do that to Gabe.
Nevertheless, I dreamed of being able to eat here just once
.

And here I am, at the Lan, with the richest man in the state at my side.

“So you’re just friends?” Chase motioned for the host to leave and pulled out my chair for me.

“We’re definitely friends. I’ve known Gabe for years.” I sat down. “Thank you for pulling out my chair.”

“You’re welcome.”

Paintings of women decorated in fur adorned the walls. Single page menus lay in front of our chairs. Gabe approached us, dressed in a white chef’s jacket with a red line in the center. The lamp’s glow cast a red hue on his milk-chocolate skin.

Gabe rubbed his hands together as he stopped next to me. “I can’t believe you’re really here.”

“Me neither.” I giggled as if I’d been tipsy.

“Did you change your hair?” Something stirred in Gabe’s eyes. Vivien always said he had a crush on me. I doubted it. She thought every guy liked me. Only I lived in reality.

I touched my now ridiculously long hair. “Yes. It’s my new look.”

“I love it. You look like a model.”

No. I look like a Rapunzel rip-off.

Chase cleared his throat.

Oh god, I forgot.

“This is my boss, Mr. Chase Stone.” I gestured to him. “We’re here on business.”

Although Chase left his computer in the limo.

“Well, not too much business I hope.” Gabe flashed me shiny white teeth. Our high school senior class had awarded him
Best Smile
. He’d maintained that awesome feature through the years, but now muscles replaced bony shoulders and pure adult confidence saturated his young awkwardness.

I held my hand up in mock salute. “I promise to make sure we enjoy the meal.”

“You’d better. And remember what I told you I would do if you ever came to the restaurant?” Gabe asked.

“What did you tell her?” Chase raised his dark eyebrows.

“He swore he would execute the perfect food experience for me,” I said.

“Yes. I did.” Gabe bowed. “All you have to say is chef’s choice and I’ll create a series of excellent dishes. My chef de cuisine gave me his approval when he realized you were coming. I’ve told him all about you of course.”

I shook my head. “Not tonight. I’m sure that’s expensive. I’ll come back another time–”

“No.” Chase waved my response away. “Give us the chef’s choice. A white wine for me and your best red for Jasmine.”

He knows I love red wine? Good guess.

“My pleasure.” Gabe bowed again and left.

“So he’s never asked you out?” Chase said, once we were alone.

“What? Gabe?” I scrunched my face in horror. “No way. We’re just really good friends from the neighborhood. We’ve managed to stay in contact because we both love food.”