Dirty: The Complete Series (Secret Baby Romance Love Story) (123 page)

As I drove home, I thought about my
second—and final—date with Brigitte. We’d met at an arcade that Trevor had
found for me, and I’d thought it would be just as big a success as the first
date had been. From Brigitte’s perspective, I thought it probably had. She had
had a good time, and throughout the night she’d given me little cues that told
me that she wouldn’t say no if I invited her to come home with me. But
everything that she had to say seemed to be a rehash of what we’d talked about
the first time, even though she’d told a few stories about new clients she had
been working with. Everything about her work, her interests, her life had
seemed to be routine.

Would I run into the same problem with
whoever it was that Katie planned on setting me up with? That possibility
bothered me; I didn’t want to think that the only person I could be interested
in was someone who was unavailable to me.
Surely,
whoever I get matched with is going to be more interesting. That’s the whole
point of working with a matchmaking service, isn’t it?
In spite of myself,
I saw Natalie’s face in my mind, saw her grinning—and scowling as she told me
off on our last session together. I could never predict how she would react to
something, and that was at least part of the reason I found her so interesting.

As I went up to my apartment, I considered
where I would take Natalie for lunch. For both of our peace of mind, I should
keep the location as upfront and as professional seeming as possible. If I
picked somewhere that was romantic, I might just make things worse between us.
She obviously wanted to keep things as platonic as humanly possible, and I
didn’t have any right to expect anything more. I was glad that she was feeling
better, but I didn’t think that even someone as strong as Natalie could rebound
from an attack like the one she’d been in quite so quickly. She’d probably be
skittish for a while longer, and I had to respect that she had good reason for
that. I sent a text message to Trevor, asking him to get on the case of finding
a good lunch spot for me to meet with Natalie, and made some dinner for myself.
All I could do was wait and see how she reacted to me.

Chapter
Twenty Nine

Natalie

I hadn’t talked to Katie about what had happened
between Zeke and me, even though I knew that I should. I couldn’t bring myself
to ask her to reassign him to another coach, even if I knew that it would be a
better option for both of us. I’d been ashamed of myself for reacting the way
that I had, and for how much of a jerk I had been, over something that I really
should have been happy to hear. Zeke was making progress—of course, he would be
excited about that.

When he called me, I didn’t even really
know if I should take the chance of meeting up with him for another session. I
had known—even before he’d said anything about it—that he would have that in
mind, or else he wouldn’t have called me at all. Katie had mentioned that she
found it strange that I hadn’t logged any more sessions with Zeke, and I’d told
her that Zeke had begun dating women on his own, without saying specifically
that he’d asked to stagger or stop our meetings. He hadn’t, of course, but I
didn’t quite think that letting Katie come to that conclusion on her own was
quite the same thing as a lie.

By the time the babysitter arrived, I was
nearly ready to leave to meet Zeke for our lunch date.
Lunch is good. Lunch is informal and professional. He will probably
keep his mind on business and you can get back into the normal swing of things
with him
, I thought as I touched up my lipstick and made sure my hair was
smooth. I had gone for my usual standby: jeans, a nice blouse, and a blazer. It
was good enough for any lunch spot that wasn’t a four-star restaurant, and I
didn’t think Zeke was likely to take me somewhere so fancy on a practice date,
even if he did have feelings for me—which I couldn’t be sure he did.

Zeke had asked me to meet him at a
restaurant called The Hearth, and as I listened to the GPS on my phone giving
me directions, I tried not to feel too nervous about what it would mean to see
him again. I had had a lot of time to think about what had happened between us
on our last date; most of what I had said to him in my little outburst had had
an element of truth in it, but also a lot of personal feelings. I needed to
make up my mind about how I was going to deal with the situation. I had to
figure out whether I could or could not be professional with Zeke. And, the
lunch we were going to have together would give me—I hoped—what I needed to
figure that out.

I parked my car about a block away from
the restaurant and took a deep breath, steeling myself against the awkwardness
that I knew would be the first several moments of our meeting. Even if I could
be professional and platonic with Zeke after everything we’d been through,
things were going to be weird between us for a little while until we got used
to each other again. I reminded myself that I knew how to handle a little
awkwardness. I knew how to keep the ball rolling, how to figure out where
Zeke’s head was at in our situation with each other. “That’s why Katie hired
you,” I told my reflection in the mirror. “You know how to handle yourself in
almost any situation.” I had a brief flicker of memory of the date with Nathan
Giles, but I dismissed that. There were some people that no one could handle. I
couldn’t count that one experience as an indication of my overall abilities.

I climbed out of the car and locked the
door behind me, checking the time as I started towards the entrance of the
restaurant.
If nothing else
, I
thought wryly,
I could count on a good
meal
. I’d read up on The Hearth and apparently they had great food and
decent service. It was like most of the places I’d gone to for meetings with
clients.

My phone buzzed in my pocket and I checked
it, worried for a moment that there was something wrong with Brady. Instead, it
was a message from Zeke.
Got here early,
so I’m waiting for you at the table. Just tell the host that you’re with Zeke
Baxter.
I hesitated at the door to the restaurant and then dismissed the
idea of standing him up as stupid. It was my job to meet with him, and even if
the meeting went poorly, he wasn’t likely to turn on me the way that Nathan
had.

I saw the host right away, standing at a
podium and writing something in the book in front of him while he chatted away
on the phone. I waited my turn, looking around the part of the dining area I
could see: the restaurant had a cozy feeling to it, with exposed brick walls
and intimate tables, a hardwood floor that gleamed with polish and waiters
milling around in casual-professional clothing instead of uniforms.
It’s an ideal lunch spot
, I thought,
breathing in the smell of heavenly aromas coming from the kitchen.

Finally, the host was free. “Thank you for
your patience, ma’am,” he said, giving me a polite smile.

“Not a problem,” I told him. “I’m actually
meeting someone who’s already been seated: Zeke Baxter?” The host nodded
quickly and snagged a menu from the stack on top of his podium with a graceful
movement.

“Please, follow me,” he said, keeping the
smile on his face all the time. I’d been to a lot of restaurants in the course
of doing my job, and it never ceased to amaze me how well hosts and hostesses
(generally) managed to keep their tone polite and a smile on their face
whenever they were dealing with a customer. I knew that no matter how good my
self-control had become, I didn’t have the kind of patience to do their job.

I followed the host across the dining room
and spotted Zeke seated at a two-top table. He was dressed for work in a suit
and tie, and I had to admit to myself that he looked as good as ever—especially
when I knew exactly what he looked like underneath the suit. He stood as we
approached and gave me a slightly awkward kiss on the cheek before the host
pulled my chair out and laid my menu down on my place setting.

I sat down, taking a deep breath as
surreptitiously as I could. “How have you been? I can’t see any sign of what
happened,” Zeke said when the host had left the table.

“I’m doing all right,” I replied, smiling.
“I’m about ninety percent healed up; my knee still bugs me a little bit, but
I’m doing a little light physical therapy to get it back into shape.”

“It sucks that you have to go through
that, though,” he said, frowning. “Any word about that asshole?”

I shrugged. “I filed a report, and none of
the services we’re affiliated with will work with him. The police let him out
on bail, and they’re moving forward with charges.” Just the thought of Nathan
Giles—and the terrible way he’d come after me in the middle of a restaurant—was
enough to make my heart beat faster in my chest, enough to make anger start up
in the pit of my stomach. “But let’s talk about something else, okay?”

“Right—yes, of course,” Zeke said, his
face anxious for a moment before falling back into his normal polite smile.
“How’s Brady doing?”

“He’s really, really good,” I told him,
smiling more warmly than I had since walking into the restaurant. “We’re going
to start looking at pre-K places probably next month, so I’m looking over all
the options in the area to figure out the ‘short list,’ so to speak.”

“Maybe I should let you borrow Trevor,”
Zeke suggested. “He’s great at collating information, and I feel like he
probably doesn’t have enough to do.” I laughed and shook my head; in spite of
how nervous I’d felt, I was starting to really, truly relax.

The waiter came and Zeke gave me a moment
to decide on what I wanted while he asked about the wine selection, the
specials, and anything else he could think of to stall on my behalf. I grinned
to myself, almost shaking my head at how sweet he was being.
Careful, girl. Don’t get caught up. You’re
still a professional here.
I ordered one of the roast meals—free range
chicken sliced off of the bone, potatoes, carrots, parsnips, and a raw broccoli
salad—and a glass of wine to go with it, and Zeke ordered lamb.

“So, I guess this is where we talk about
where we stand,” I said, taking a sip of my water. My nervousness had returned.

“I want to make sure we’re okay, first,”
Zeke said, looking at me intently. “I know things went a little pear shaped the
last time we met.” I laughed in spite of how nervous I felt.

“You could say that,” I agreed.

“I definitely want to keep working with
you,” he told me. “I want to know if you still feel comfortable working with
me.” I considered that. A very loud voice in my mind shouted that this was a
chance to explain that what we’d done had compromised my ability to be
professional, and that I needed to get some distance from him, and I needed to
do the “right thing” and refer him to someone else. But another part of my mind
insisted that I could still be professional, I could still be detached. I had
let myself get too involved before, but we’d had two weeks of no contact with
each other; surely I’d regained some objectivity by now? And besides: I liked
working with Zeke. He was a better client than easily more than half of the men
I worked with, and didn’t I deserve the break?

“I think we need to be…mindful,” I said
slowly. “Obviously, the fact that we’ve sort of…” I took a deep breath and
half-sighed. “Overstepped some boundaries, has made things a little weird
between us. But I think we work together well.”

“I agree,” he said, nodding. “I think
we’re really good together.” I tried to keep myself from reading into that
comment.

“So yes, we can keep working together,” I
told him. Our food arrived then and for a few moments, I had the comfort of
digging into the excellent chicken and vegetables, and pretending like things
weren’t awkward at all. I had regained my composure a little bit by the time
Zeke began talking again.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he said.
“Especially since I’ve done something that I think…” he licked his lips. “I
hope you’ll like it. Consider it a peace offering, as well as our next session
together.”

“Oh?” What kind of peace offering would he
want to give me? Obviously it wouldn’t be more flowers—if it were something
relevant to our next session. “What would that be?” I wasn’t sure whether I was
more excited or nervous.

“Here,” he said, reaching into a pocket on
the inside of his suit. He took out an envelope and extended it towards me
across the table. I hesitated for just a moment and took it from him, wiping my
hands on my napkin even though there was no need.

I opened the envelope and saw that there
were two slips inside. I frowned to myself, wondering what they could be. I
tugged them out carefully and saw the words printed on them:
Frank Turner and the Sleeping Souls.
They nearly fell from my fingers as I stared in shock. I had mentioned wanting
to see Frank Turner, but the tickets had sold out before I’d gotten a chance to
buy them, much less arrange for someone to watch Brady. I had resigned myself
to missing him this time around, and now—now, Zeke had gotten me the tickets I
coveted. “How—how did you get them?”

“Trevor,” he said with a shrug when I
finally looked up from the gift he’d given me. “Trevor with a little help from
American Express; they had some extra tickets they’d bought up.”

“I—wow.” I shook my head, looking down at
the tickets in shock once more. I knew that I shouldn’t go on a date that was
so personal. I should tell Zeke that I appreciated the gesture, but that for a
session we should go somewhere more neutral. But I couldn’t resist. I couldn’t
give the tickets back or make Zeke let me go with someone else. “Okay,” I said,
nodding slowly. “That—that works. We can do this.” I looked up and saw him
grinning.