The Ex Who Hired Her

‘If the waiter’s on first-name terms with you, I assume you eat here a lot?’ she asked.

Jordan shrugged. ‘It’s convenient. And, actually, he’s the owner. His wife’s the cook.’

She gave him a sidelong look. ‘So you haven’t actually learned to cook, yet?’

He knew what she was referring to. The time he’d taken her back to his place when his parents had been out. He’d put some bread under the grill to toast—and then he’d started kissing her on the sofa and forgotten all about the toast until the smoke detector had started shrieking. He couldn’t remember how to turn the alarm off, so they’d had to flap a wet towel underneath it and open all the windows; even then, the house had reeked of burnt toast for a whole day afterwards.

‘It’s convenient,’ he repeated. After Lindsey had left him for someone who didn’t have workaholic tendencies, he’d discovered that he really didn’t enjoy cooking a meal for one, even if it was just shoving a ready meal in the microwave. He tended to eat at lunchtime in the staff canteen, then grabbed a sandwich at his desk in the evening; and on days when he didn’t have time for lunch, he grabbed a sandwich on the run and ate at the trattoria after work.

‘What do you recommend?’ she asked, glancing over the edge of the menu at him.

‘Pretty much everything on the menu. Though the lasagne’s particularly good,’ he said.

‘Lasagne it is, then. Thank you.’

He ordered the same for both of them when Giorgio returned with the wine and water. ‘Bread and olives?’ Giorgio asked.

He glanced at Alexandra. At her nod, he smiled. ‘Yes, please.’

If anyone had told Alexandra six months ago that she’d be having dinner with Jordan Smith, and enjoying it, she would’ve laughed. Really, really scornfully.

But Jordan was excellent company. Charming, with good manners. And she was actually having a good time.

Then she reached for another piece of the excellent bread at the same time as he did; when their fingers touched, her mouth went dry. Oh, hell. She could remember him touching her much more intimately, and it sent a shiver of pure lust through her.

She mumbled an apology and withdrew, waiting for him to tear off a piece of bread before she dared go anywhere near the bread basket again.

‘The bread’s good,’ she said, hoping to cover up the awkwardness—and hoping even more that he wouldn’t guess what she’d just been thinking about.

He raised an eyebrow. ‘I did wonder if you’d stick to just the olives.’

‘Why?’ For a moment, she looked puzzled. ‘Oh. Because of the carbs.’ She gave him a wry smile. ‘You’re obviously used to dating twig-like women who exist on a single lettuce leaf—and maybe a nibble of celery if it’s a special night out.’

‘I don’t date twig-like women.’ He couldn’t help the slight snap in his voice. It was none of her business who he dated.

‘Another elephant,’ she said softly. ‘At this rate, we’re going to have a whole herd.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘The elephant in the room. Screened off. Things we don’t talk about, things that are absolutely off limits. The past. Your marriage. Mine. The women you date who don’t eat.’ Her gaze held his. ‘Would you like to add any more to the herd?’

He really hadn’t expected this. ‘That’s very direct.’

‘I find it’s the easiest way. It cuts out the lies.’

Was she admitting that she was a liar? Or was she accusing him of being a liar? Right at that moment, he couldn’t tell. But he wasn’t the one who’d behaved badly. He wasn’t the one who didn’t even bother to say, ‘You’re dumped,’ but simply went incommunicado. Then, when he’d heard what his mother had to say about the situation and tried to find out what the hell was going on, Alexandra had simply vanished. He hadn’t been able to find her and drag the truth out of her.

‘By my reckoning,’ she continued, ‘that leaves us the weather, work or celebrity gossip as our next topic of conversation. Would you like to choose?’

There was the slightest, slightest glint of laughter in her eyes, and suddenly the tension in his spine drained away. ‘Work, I think,’ he said. ‘Before we have a fight.’

She inclined her head in recognition. ‘That’s direct, too.’

‘Yeah.’ He couldn’t bring himself to echo her words back at her. Because she was the one who’d told the lies; and they’d just tacitly agreed not to discuss it. He still wanted to know why—why hadn’t she told him about the baby? Had she ever loved him, or had his mother been right and she’d just seen him as a meal ticket for life? But he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to handle the answers to his questions; and anyway, whatever had happened in the past, right now he knew that Alexandra Bennett was going to be really good for Field’s. And his family business was the whole purpose of his life nowadays.

‘Tell me about your ideas,’ he said instead, then sat back and watched her blossom as she talked. As she expounded on her ideas her eyes shone and her face was completely animated. She clearly loved her job; this was her passion, the reason she got up in the mornings.

And then he wished that word hadn’t slipped into his head. Passion. He could remember her being passionate in bed with him, once she’d got past her shyness. Once she’d got past the embarrassment and awkwardness of her very first time, started to learn how she liked him to touch her, and what gave him the most pleasure when she touched him …

Oh, hell, he really needed to stop letting his thoughts run away with him like this.

‘So why did you pick marketing?’ he asked.

She blinked. ‘Sorry?’

‘I thought you were going to be a lecturer.’

‘That’s not relevant.’

And he’d hit a nerve, judging by the expression on her face. ‘OK. Ignore that. I just wondered what made you pick marketing as a career?’

She shrugged. ‘I was in a bit of a rut in my job. A friend who worked in HR persuaded me to let her practise on me and got me to do some tests. The results said that marketing would suit me as a career, so I found myself a job as a marketing assistant and started studying for my professional exams.’

Exams, he remembered from her CV, where she’d gained distinctions in every paper. And she’d done the whole lot in less than a year. ‘So was your friend right? Are you happy?’

‘Yes. And this job is a challenge. I’m glad I went for it.’ She paused. ‘Though I really didn’t know you were anything to do with Field’s.’

Her eyes were very clear; maybe she was telling the truth.

‘The agency put you in at the very last minute.’

‘I’d just signed up with them. I was looking to make my next career move,’ she explained. ‘They said there was the perfect job for me, except the application date had already passed. And then they said they’d see if they could do something about it.’ She spread her hands. ‘I really wasn’t expecting them to ring me and say I’d got an interview, so I didn’t bother doing any research on Field’s. When they said I had an hour and a half to get there, it was too late to do more than read the factsheet they sent me and then spend five minutes walking round the store before the interview.’

He couldn’t leave it. ‘If you’d known I was going to be doing the interview, would you have turned up?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘I would’ve had to think very hard about it.’

‘But you came back for a second interview.’

‘Because I wanted the job. This sort of challenge doesn’t come up that often, and I realised it’d be pointless cutting off my nose to spite my face.’

He could appreciate that.

‘So why did you give me the job?’ she asked.

Even though he hadn’t wanted her back in his life? ‘Fair question,’ he acknowledged. ‘Because you were the best candidate. And you said it wouldn’t be a problem working with me.’

‘It won’t be.’