Spinster? (8 page)

"Do you have kids?" he asked.
 

"No, I don't."

"I noticed you weren't wearing a ring, so you're not married either." He noticed? Now it was her turn to shift in her seat.

"I feel like I'm the one being interviewed," she teased. Okay, she was going with flirty professional.

"Sorry. Lawyer. It's habit, I guess. I like to get to the bottom of things." Hearing him say bottom did things to her stomach. Twisty, bubbly things. He had to know he was sex on a stick, right?
 

The phone on his desk buzzed once again. "Mr. Caraway, it's been thirty minutes."

"Thanks, Linda."
 

"Sorry, time went by too quickly."

"I hope you're better at getting things done in the time allotted when people are paying you by the hour," Tess teased.

He chuckled. "Not really. How do you think I pay for this fancy office?"
 

She laughed. "I knew I didn't trust lawyers." She gathered her things and stood. "Well, thank you for your time. I'll just email you the other questions and you can get them to me when you can. I think you're featured in the last newsletter, so you have time." She offered him her hand. He paused for a moment, then shook her hand. She turned to leave and was surprised to find that he too, was walking towards the door. Wesley was apparently walking her out. Tess's eyes went wide, then she schooled her expression—even when he put his hand on her back for three seconds. The walk was short and Tess reluctantly had to part ways with Wesley who, for all intents and purposes, was still kind, and smoking hot. Sigh...

"Well, again, thank you. I'll get you the list by tomorrow at the latest."

"I'm afraid my email isn't accepting incoming messages at this time."

"It's not?" Tess was confused, he'd confirmed their meeting that morning, via email. Tess noticed Linda was trying very hard not to look like she was listening to every word.
 

"No. Server malfunction. In fact, you will probably have to come to my office again."

"I will?"
 

He smiled. "Yes. I think I have Friday around noon open. Does that work for you?"

Tess got out her phone and pulled up her calendar. It said lunch with Rebel. "It looks like I'm open.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I couldn't help overhearing,"—yeah, right—"you have lunch with your father on Friday," Linda said.

"No, I don't."

"Yes, sir, you do. It's right here."

"Linda." His frustration evident.

"Sorry, Mr. Caraway."

Tess watched the exchange. She wasn't certain what was going on, but it was entertaining.

"So, Friday at noon?" Wesley asked.

"Sure. Friday at noon."

"Don't eat before, you know, just in case we want to grab a bite."

"All right...see you then. I'd say email me to confirm, but with your server issues and all, you can call me if you need to cancel," Tess said, teasing gently.
 

He smiled. "Yes, no telling how long it will take to get it fixed, and I won't need to cancel." He put his hands in his pockets, making him look young and carefree. "Well, it was nice to meet you, Tess."

Tess shifted her bag higher on her shoulder and shook his hand once more. "Likewise, Wesley."
 

"Wes."

"Okay, Wes."

She walked out and stood in front of the elevators. If she wasn't mistaken, his thumb rubbed over hers the last time he shook her hand. It also didn't take a detective to discern that Wesley Caraway had fibbed about server problems and blew off plans with his dad so he could take her out to lunch.
 

As the elevator doors closed in front of her, there was a smug grin on her face.

"So?"

"So what?" Tess answered.
 

"You know what so," Willa huffed.

"I haven't a clue what—"

"Tess!"

Tess laughed and decided to put her friend to of her misery. "If you're referring to the meeting with Wesley, then it went just fine."

"Of course that's what I'm referring to, you biatch. And I better get more than 'it was just fine,' or I'm going to show everyone that picture of you passed out in your underwear."

"You wouldn't!"

"Oh, yes, I would. And may I remind you, you were wearing a thong." Willa was referring to the post company Christmas party photo taken two years ago. It wasn't Tess's finest hour. She may have tried to make out with the waiter passing out the champagne. In her defense, he was twenty and really hot. Plus, he had the champagne, so...

"Stop trying to blackmail me. You know you'd never show it to anyone." Willa gave Tess a look. "You haven't shown it to anyone, have you?" Another look. "Have you?"
 

"I...may...have...shown...Ben," Willa admitted, her face cringing as if waiting for a hit.

"What? Ben's seen my ass!" She must have said it pretty loud because a co-worker stuck their head into the break room with a raised eyebrow. "It's exactly what is sounds like, walk away," Tess said dismissing to the floating head.
 

"Sorry, Tess. I was a little tipsy when I showed him. It was just so funny. Your bottom half was on the couch and your top half was on the ground. Anyway, he said you had a nice one, if that's any consolation."

Tess rolled her shoulders and pulled her cuffs down. "He thought I had a nice one?" Willa nodded. "Well, I guess I can let it go. But never, I mean never, show another living soul that picture. In fact, delete it immediately!"

"I did delete it, right after the day I showed you...then laughed with Ben about it for a few hours."
 

Tess chuckled. "It was pretty funny. And if you get as hammered as I did, you deserve to have embarrassing evidence of the event. You noticed I only had one glass at the last holiday party. I learn from my inebriated misadventures."

Willa laughed. "Yes, that's true. You never make the same spectacle more than once...Now, enough about your ass! What happened today? Was he still hot? Was he friendly? Did he remember you? Is he married? Did he..."

Tess held up her hand. "Breathe, my friend, breathe. All will be revealed. Really, there's not much to tell. I went to his office and asked him some questions. Yes, he's still handsome, and yes, he was very friendly. No, he isn't married, but he has kids. He didn't remember me, as I suspected, but he seemed baffled that he didn't."

"Oooh, he saw how cute you are and thought, 'why the hell didn't I pay attention to you?' Am I right?"

"Exactly."

"You better pray he doesn't have a year book in the attic," Willa added.

"Oh no! I hadn't thought of that. I would be mortified...well, you know why. It doesn't matter anyway. The past is the past. I would way rather have been fugly back then and cute now, than the opposite."

"You weren't fugly, Tess. So you had a quasi-ugly duckling phase a little later than most. You should have seen me in middle school. Let's just say, thank the gods of pre-teens for braces."

"You had an ugly phase? Really?" Tess knew Willa was the type to say anything to make her feel better. So, she of course was doubtful.

"For reals. Ask my mom. They called me 'field goal' all of seventh grade."

"Field goal?" Tess asked.

"Yes, as in can kick a field goal between my teeth."

"Ouch. That may be as bad as chubbles."

"Chubbles? Who called you that."

Tess swallowed. "My boyfriend, senior year...I know, self esteem much?"

"Tess, that sucks. What an asshole."

Tess shrugged her shoulders and tucked a curl behind her ear. "It took me a few years of therapy and meeting a little fire ball named Rebel to convince me I was more than my high school persona. I'm way over it."

"Oh, I know. You're one of the strongest people I know."

"I'm no stronger than the next person. We all have our moments of weakness and strength. That's why it's important to have a kickass tribe of ladies around you."

"Truth...So you went, you saw, and that's it?"

Tess chewed her lip. "What aren't you telling me?" Willa asked.

Tess told her about the whole 'server's down, so you'll have to come to see me in person' ploy.

"How cute. He knew, you knew, right?"

"Yes. I'm pretty sure he knew he wasn't pulling a James Bond over on me."

"So, Friday."

"Yup, Friday."

"Is it like a date?"

"Not sure, it felt like it could be."

"Are you still seeing that Donovan guy?"

"We've been out a few times, and we talk. Nothing serious." She loved spending time with him and he was really easy to talk to, as if they'd known each other much longer than a month.

"When are you seeing him again?"

"Saturday."

"Wow. Single dad hottie on Friday, and fine as hell widower on Saturday."

"Welcome to dating in your thirties."

CHAPTER ELEVEN

When Friday arrived, Tess took marginally less time to pick an outfit. The pile only held three discarded outfits as compared to the dozen before their first meeting.
 

Nerve level—moderate.
 

Stomach acid—churning, but not enough to keep her from wanting to eat. Nothing ever did that.

Palms—moist, just on the side of clammy.

She'd been in Wesley's office for a total of five minutes before he whisked her out to the bistro around the corner. He smelled so good she closed her eyes at the inhale. They walked over, pleasant small talk and a bit of catching up. The weather was perfect to dine al fresco, so when he suggested a small round on the patio, Tess agreed. Keeping her sunglasses on was an appealing prospect. She didn't feel the need to hide, per se, but a layer of protection would be welcomed.

Tess looked at the menu. Her mind said salad, but her stomach said pesto chicken club on focaccia.
 

"I like a woman who eats real food," Wesley said, after they ordered.

Tess laughed. "I know, we always eat salads on dates, don't we?...But since this is a meeting to finish our interview, not a date, then the salad rule doesn't apply."

"Salad rule?"

"Yes, you always eat salad on a first date, or a healthy equivalent."

"That's stupid," he said with a laugh.

"Oh, I know, but it's what women do. If a woman eats a steak and a fully loaded baked potato on your first date, then she's just there for the free meal, not you. But if she's nibbling on mixed greens, then she likes you. Trust me."

"Fascinating. So, I can gather that you're obviously not into me from your choice of entrée."
 

"Well, then there are the exceptions to the rule, like myself. Those who like food too much to give a shit."

Wesley almost spit out the sip of the iced tea he'd lifted to his mouth. Tess tried not to lean over the table and lick the lemon from his lips.
 

"Let me guess, no one's ever eaten a steak and baked potato on a first date with you, have they?" Tess asked, knowing the answer, but she enjoyed watching him twitch a bit. It could be the way Wesley filled out his fitted white shirt. Or the light scruff dusting his cheeks. Perhaps it was the
 
brown wave that was slightly longer than the rest of his hair that hung over his dark eyebrow. Don't even get her started on his smile. That mouth...what was she talking about? "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

Wesley chuckled "I was saying, I haven't dated much lately, so my memory's a little fuzzy as to the food choices of past dates...anyway, I only mentioned it because I thought it was nice that you have a real appetite."

"Is that a nice way of saying eat up, fatty?"

He laughed again. "Definitely not. But I am upset you didn't consider the possibility that this might, indeed, be a date. Am I not date material?"

Date material, hot sex against a wall material, swallowing material...maybe even just the tip material...well, if she had enough to drink. Who was she kidding, she'd let this man take her upways, downways, sideways, anyway, that left her bow legged. What was he saying?
 

"Tess?"

"Huh? Oh, sorry, I'm not usually so distracted." Tess twisted her wavy hair into a quick knot and cleared her throat. "Well, to answer your question, yes, you seem to be date material. But no, I didn't consider this a date." Not that you know of. "Did you consider it a date?"
 

Please say yes, please say yes.

"Yes."
Yes!

She wiped her mouth with the corner of her red cloth napkin, then slid her plate to the side. She may have ordered real food, but she left half of her sandwich on the plate. That would save her an hour on the treadmill. "Then, Mr. Caraway, you are indeed rusty. I don't recall you asking me out on a date—just some tripe about your server." She cocked her head and crossed her arms, but her lips held a slight upward tilt. She knew he meant it to be a date, but boy did she enjoy toying with him. All in good fun of course.
 

"You knew I was making up an excuse?" The smug grin he gave her would melt a popsicle in a freezer.

"Yes, after a minute, but it doesn't change the fact you didn't officially ask me out on a date," she said crisply.
 

"Hm," was all he said, then pushed away. The sound of the iron chair grated on the stone. She sat confused as he tossed a few bills on the table and walked away. She sniffed, crossing her arms tighter. What was his problem? She was being a little snarky, but she meant it in a playful way. Had she laid it on too thick? No. Well, if he can't handle a little sass, then he could kiss her ass.

He stopped and turned. "You coming?" She stood with caution as she grabbed her purse. She kept her steps slow and controlled. They walked down the street in silence. Tess felt grouchy—the once delightful day had certainly soured. The birds that had once chirped musically now sounded like screeches in her ear. The worst of it was, she hadn't finished the damn questions, again. No, the worst of it was she wanted this to be a date and she wanted to see him again. She guessed she'd played it wrong. Tess did that sometimes, thinking she had a good read on someone and got too familiar, too soon. When they stopped in front of his office building. Wesley turned to her, grabbing her hand, then falling to a knee. The sidewalks were empty, or she'd have been really embarrassed.