Me And Mr. I.T. (Kupid's Cove Book 2) (5 page)

Aka smiled, thinking he knew something he didn’t, and motioned us to the checkouts. Mr. I.T. came up next to me and grabbed my hand, tugging me toward the front of the store.

“Let’s get this paid for. I’m hungry,” he whispered, his hand tightening on mine.

“Hungry? What does that have to do with buying a computer?”

“It has to do with the fact that once this is paid for, I’m taking you to dinner at Da Kitchen Café. My treat, of course.”

For a few moments I felt excitement building at the prospect of sharing a meal with him, but then I remembered that night at my apartment and the smile fell away from my face.

Chapter Four

I sat in his car watching the little pineapple shaped air freshener swing lazily from the review mirror. My new computer sat on the backseat expectantly, expecting me to know what to do with it, which I didn’t. I was going to have to count on
him
, once again. He turned into the parking lot of Da Kitchen Café and found a parking spot, shoving the gearshift into park.

“I don’t feel comfortable with this,” I said suddenly.

He turned in his seat without turning the car off. “Seriously, Ellie, I don’t bite.”

I rolled my eyes, visibly, so he could see me. “I get it already. I’m not worried about you biting me. What I mean is, I’m not comfortable eating here instead of at the hotel. I feel like we should be supporting Kupid Enterprises if we’re going to eat out.”

He rested his wrist on the steering wheel without taking his eyes off me. “Fair enough, but since you avoid me like I have a disease at work, I didn’t think you would have dinner with me at Kupid’s Table.”

“You’re right, I won’t.”

He sighed, exasperatedly and shook his head a little. “That’s why we’re here. I want to enjoy your company, but you seem afraid of me all the time. You leave home early and come home late just to avoid seeing me.”

I opened my mouth angrily, “I do not!” He looked at me under one dark brow as if to say ‘Really?’ “Okay, so I work hard, there’s no crime in that. I’ll make you a deal. I have a lot of work to do considering what Gideon signed us up for today. I’ll have dinner with you if it can be a working dinner in my office, while we set that bad boy up.” I hooked my thumb toward the backseat and held my breath.

He didn’t answer, but put the car in reverse and backed out, pointing the car back to the beach resort area. “I’ll accept that deal, on one condition.”

“Who’s doing the bargaining here?” I laughed a little and could see on his face that he still had the control, and I only had the illusion of it.

“You stop trying to avoid me at every turn. We’re going to be working together and we won’t get anything accomplished if you turn tail and run every time you see me.”

“I do no such thing!” I huffed, crossing my arms in front of me.

“Unless you’re forced to sit in a meeting with me, you barely acknowledge me. It isn’t hard to notice.” He turned toward the resort, which thankfully wasn’t far. “I can’t figure out why. Is it because I know more about technology than you do, and that sticks in your craw?”

“Not anymore than me knowing more about marketing sticks in your craw.”

He parked the old car back in its spot behind the building and turned to me. “If you think for one second I didn’t notice your new attitude about me started two months ago, after I helped you to your apartment that night, you would be wrong.”

He got out, coming to my side of the car and opening my door, holding an arm out like a chauffeur. Once I was out of the car, he reached in the back and got the computer box, tucking it under his arm the same way he did at the store. I was trying to keep my breathing even because he kept his hand on my back the whole way to the service door at the back of the building. Having an anxiety attack now would only serve to prove him right. He unlocked the service door and ushered me in.

“You have a key to the service door? Why didn’t you say something when we left?”

“Because you jabbed the elevator button like it was a defibrillator machine. I guessed you weren’t interested in doing things my way.”

He opened a second door and we were in a service hallway that echoed each footstep we took. “You’re a real comedian tonight,” I grumped, but all he did was smile. It was an infuriatingly sexy smile.

“I’ve been thinking about doing stand up,” he answered, winking one long lashed eye at me.

I shook my head a little. “Don’t quit your day job.” I looked up and down the hallway. “Does this lead to the reception desk?”

“Actually no, it will take us to the housekeeping area. From there we can take the service elevator or stairs. I use it a lot when I have to bring in a cart with AV equipment or something I don’t want to move through the hotel,” he answered as we reached a door.

“AV equipment?”

“You’re kidding, right?” he asked, holding the door to the stairwell.

“Do I look like I’m kidding? It’s been a long day and it’s not over yet. I’m tired, hungry and worried about a friend, so how about you cut the sarcasm?”

He grabbed me on the landing to keep me from taking the next set of stairs. “I’m not being sarcastic. I’m sorry today hasn’t been a great day. I know you had a rough time with work and that makes everything frustrating. To answer your question AV means audiovisual. Now, how about we get some food ordered and work on setting this up while we wait.” He moved the computer out away from his body a little and then lowered it again, letting go of my shirt so I could follow him down the stairs.

We came out of the stairwell not too far away from the restaurant and he paused, turning to look at me. “Do you want to go put our order in or are you more comfortable ordering from your office so no one sees us together.”

My shoulders slumped and I sighed, shaking my head. “I’m not ashamed to be seen with you, Maltrand. I just think we need to have a reason to be together. Tonight we have one, so let’s go order and they can bring it to my office when it’s ready.”

He motioned for me to go ahead through the glass doors of the restaurant and he followed me. We leaned on the bar and looked over a menu, the new computer resting on a chair as though it was taunting me. Mr. I.T. folded his menu closed and turned his head to look at me. “I think I’ll have my usual. Steak and shrimp with fries. What’s your favorite?”

I knew this menu by heart and the fact that I was still looking at it was pathetic, but it kept me from looking at him. “I’ll have the cob salad, I guess.”

He took the menu from my hand and laid it on his as the bartender came toward us.

"Aloha, Mally and Ellie. You're working late tonight," he greeted us, performing his habit of wiping down the bar before he leans on it.

Maltrand answered before I could. "Just a little technology issue we should have resolved soon. We'd like to order some food. Do you have someone who can deliver it to us? We'll be in Ellie's office."

Hani was nodding as he spoke. "Won't be a problem, it's late and we aren't busy. What can I have them make you?"

I was about to open my mouth when Mr. I.T. answered again. "Give us two steak and shrimp platters with fries, both medium."

“Excuse me, that’s not what I want,” I said in a huff, but Hani took the menus and waved as he disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Mr. I.T. in the hot seat.

He turned away from the bar and threw his arm around my shoulders as he prodded me out of the bar toward the offices. “Nothing bugs me more than when I take a woman out to eat and she orders a salad.”

“It was a salad full of meat, bacon and cheese!” I argued and noticed that twinkle in his eye. It seemed the more agitated I became, the more he enjoyed it.

“You said you were hungry. When you’re hungry, you don’t eat a salad. You eat steak. Everybody knows that.”

“What if I’m allergic to shellfish? Huh? Did you ever think of that?” I asked, dragging my feet as we neared my office. I didn’t want to be alone with him and once we stepped in that room, I would be.

“You’re not. I’ve seen you eat shrimp scampi a dozen times at hotel events.

I groaned and he laughed, removing his arm from my shoulders to turn the lights on in my office. He set the computer down on my desk and rubbed his hands together. “Are you ready to be shocked and amazed?”

I held my arms out to the sides and grimaced. “Oh yeah, this should be about as fun as a root canal with no anesthesia.”

Mr. I.T.

I eyed the woman in front of me as she cut into her steak and savored the first bite of the tender meat. Her eyes almost rolled back in her head and I took a bite of my own, enjoying the juicy, smoky flavor. Tonight we had fun together, and that made me wonder why she’s so uncomfortable around me all the time. And a salad? What was that about? Was she trying to prove that she’s healthy? Or is she on a diet? Nothing makes me crazier than dealing with a woman I can see is starving, but tries to hide it. In my book, next to the definition of a perfect ten is Ellie’s picture. Her heart-shaped face, and long ebony black hair framing her beautiful smile, had haunted my dreams more than once over the last few months. If I had to guess, her measurements were 40, 34, 42, and I loved the way her clothes fit those measurements. She was stylish, professional, and downright sexy.

When I first started working here at Kupid Enterprises just under a year ago, my eyes zeroed in on her the first day. She was the real deal, even if she didn’t know it, or believe it. When it came to anything work related she was more confident than Gideon, but when we were alone together she would hardly utter a word, unless it was something negative about herself. With this new project Gideon had us working on, I hoped to change that attitude of hers, a little at a time. Don’t get me wrong, I love her feisty side, but I would rather that feisty side wasn’t aimed directly at me, all the time.

“You’re staring,” she said and I blinked, realizing I had been.

“Sorry, but you’re so damn gorgeous I lost track of my thoughts.” I smiled to tell her it was a genuine compliment and pretended not to notice the small eye roll she did. I motioned at her plate with my steak knife. “See, aren’t you glad I ordered you the steak?”

She tipped her head in acknowledgement. “It’s very good, even if you are bossy.”

I tossed my head back and laughed freely. “I’m bossy! Have you met yourself?”

She chewed slowly with one brow raised nearly to her hairline. “I prefer to think of it as authoritative.”

I shook my head, still chuckling. “However you prefer to think of it is fine, but you’re bossy. It’s not a bad thing. I find it one of the most intriguing parts about you.”

“Because?”

“Because that’s the emotion you use as a defense mechanism and I want to find out why.”

“I’m not defensive,” she insisted and I fought against letting my eyes roll to the top of my head.

“Are you kidding me? I think the only time you’re not defensive is when you’re sleeping.”

She snorted with laughter and almost choked on her steak. She washed it down with a drink of soda that Hani had included with the meal.

“Thank you for helping me with the computer, Maltrand. I appreciate that you don’t look down on me for being computer illiterate.”

I set my fork down on my plate and leaned back in my chair. “It’s no problem. It’s my job to keep all employees up and running. You’re the most important person in this whole business, so you can’t be without equipment that works.”

She waved her hand at me. “I’m far from the most important.”

“Think about it. If it weren’t for you marketing the business successfully, there wouldn’t be a business. Gideon would have a lot of money sunk into an empty hotel. Never underestimate the important part you play on this team. And you’re not computer illiterate. You know your programs, and how they run, but you don’t understand the hardware. That’s something that can be learned, but in the end if you can turn it on, run your programs and call me when other problems arise, the job will still get done.”

“You might not want to say that. Problems always arise for me.”

I grinned. “Which I’m totally okay with because it gives me a reason to see you.” Before she could clam up and crawl back into her shell I threw an unexpected question at her. “Why do you call me Mr. I.T. at work and Maltrand in social situations?”

She didn’t answer right away, just nibbled away at the shrimp in her hand until she worked out whatever her answer was going to be. “I call you Mr. I.T. because I know it bugs you and while it probably makes me a child, I like ruffling your feathers. I call you Maltrand in social situations because Mally is a stupid nickname for a guy.”

“How’s that for honesty?” I joked and she shrugged.

“You asked, I answered. Why do you hate it when I call you Mr. I.T.?”

“Because there’s more to me than being able to fix computers.”

“I don’t doubt that,” she agreed, “which is why I only call you that at work.”