He stood up and walked over to her, pulled her into his arms and kissed her softly. “Have a good day, red.”
Then he turned and walked out of her bedroom, but he knew he couldn’t walk away from the new emotions that were flowing inside of him.
Nichole’s morning flew by. Her editorial meeting was long and boring as usual, but she was preoccupied with thoughts of Conner and the previous night. A couple of her coworkers mentioned that she seemed distracted and she told them that she was on a new story and that was all that was on her mind.
But part of her knew that Conner was definitely a distraction. She’d always been 100 percent focused at work and today she wasn’t. Instead, she remembered the way he’d felt inside her this morning in her shower. And she hoped that tonight she’d sleep a little better, but doubted it.
She was his mistress now. She didn’t know what the reality of that would entail, but she did know that there was going to be a lot more of Conner in her life. And she had to get it together to focus on the story she wanted to write or else she was going to find that she’d wasted this time with him.
But part of her just wanted to revel in being in a new relationship. That scared her. Especially since Conner had made it clear that he was moving on when their month of being lovers was up.
She glanced at her iPhone and saw that she had fifteen minutes to get across town to meet Conner for lunch. She wanted to be prepared to ask him a few interview questions or at least schedule some interview time so that she didn’t get distracted by being his lover.
Just as she was about to walk out of the office, her phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID and saw that it was Gail.
“Hey, girl,” she said, forcing herself to sound cheerful, even though she was in the midst of her greatest moral dilemma ever.
“Hey. Are you free for lunch today? I wanted to talk to you and see how things were going,” Gail said.
“I can’t. Why do you want to talk to me?”
“You seemed a little … lost is the wrong word, so don’t get mad, but just unsettled about the entire thing with Conner Macafee,” Gail said.
“I am lost,” Nichole admitted. “But only because he’s not like other guys and I don’t know exactly what to do to handle him. I could use a sounding board.”
“I thought so. I’m busy tonight, but I can do breakfast or lunch tomorrow,” Gail said.
“Maybe breakfast. I’m supposed to drop by the set of the TV show tomorrow, so if you tag along maybe we can rope Willow into joining us.”
“I’m already on it,” Gail said. “I’ll text you the details later. Bye.”
“Gail?”
“Yes?”
“Thanks for calling,” Nichole said. She knew that she wasn’t comfortable reaching out to her friends because she never wanted them to think she was whiney, but she needed someone to talk to.
“No problem. You and Willow are my soul sisters and we have to look out for each other.”
“I know that, but it’s hard when we’re all so busy.”
“I’m never too busy for you,” Gail said. “Take care, honey.”
“You, too.”
Nichole felt less alone when she hung up the phone. She left her office and hailed a cab. Traffic was heavy and she sent a text to Conner that she’d be ten minutes late. He replied right away.
I’m running late, too.
I’ll get a table if I’m there first.
I have one reserved. See you soon.
Nichole was unsure if she should answer back. She knew it would just be something like okay, but she hated to not respond to a message. When she IMed with Gail and Willow, they teased her that she had to have the last word. And she knew it was true. Finally, she just texted back Okay and put her phone away.
The cab pulled to a stop in front of the Big Apple Kiwi Klub, which housed a hotel and nightclub in one facility. The hotel had a Michelin-starred restaurant and featured a traveling exhibit of Gustav Klimt’s work. The Klubs were an international chain, owned by Gail’s fiancé, Russell Holloway.
Nichole exited the taxi and headed to the restaurant on the third floor. She gave Conner’s name to the maître d’ and by the time their table was ready, Conner had arrived. He put his hand on the small of her back as they followed the seating hostess to their table.
No one looking at them would think that they weren’t involved. Nichole realized that she needed to have a chat with her editor and let him know that she was “dating” Conner before the story ran so that it didn’t look like anything inappropriate was going on.
That was just another complication to this deal she’d made. She knew the stakes were high and she’d gambled everything on this being a story that could take her career to the next level.
Once they were seated, she noticed that Conner had found time to shave and change his clothes after he’d left her apartment this morning.
He ordered sparkling water for both of them and told the waiter they’d signal him when they were ready to order. “We need a few minutes to talk.”
“No problem, sir,” the waiter said and backed away.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I wanted to talk to you before we order our food.”
“Not at all. What’s up?” she asked.
“I wanted to give you a chance to back out of our bargain,” he said.
“Why now?” she asked.
“It seems as if it’s weighing heavily on your mind and I don’t want you to feel that you have to continue on with it.”
“Will you still sit down for an interview?” she asked.
He shook his head. She felt angry that he might want to renege on their deal now that she’d slept with him. “I’m not going back on my word, Conner. Are you?”
Ten (#ulink_0e0af351-4371-5033-b182-124247d51445)
Conner immediately realized his mistake, but he had wanted to give her a chance to back out. “I didn’t mean it at all the way you’ve taken it.”
“How did you mean it, then?”
“Just that I can tell how much our bargain is troubling you … and I wanted to give you an out.”
“I appreciate that, but I’d only take it if you still intended to pursue a relationship with me as well as letting me talk to you about Matchmakers, Inc.”
“I understand. Let’s put my question behind us. Shall we order lunch and then discuss the details of our arrangement?”
She nodded, but there was a tightness to her features that told him he wasn’t forgiven. And he couldn’t blame her. He’d worded his idea in the worst possible way.
And he’d forgotten something extremely important: She’d slept with him last night and undoubtedly felt a little vulnerable as far as he was concerned this morning.