A Decent Proposal

Sydney touched her glass to his bottle. “Friends.”

She was definitely nervous about something. Then her words sank in. Favor. Something to ask. “What’s up?”

“This is harder than I thought.”

“Just spit it out,” he advised. “That’s usually best.”

She took a long drink of Chardonnay, then set the glass down and looked him straight in the eye. “Nothing ventured...”

“Now I’m really curious.” His impression of her from their first meeting was of a confident, forthright woman so this hesitation struck him as out of character. “The worst that can happen is I’ll say no.”

“Actually that’s not the worst. And saying yes would not be the smartest answer.”

“Come on, Syd.” Shortening her name came easily and naturally, but he didn’t have time to wonder why that was. “Just tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Okay.” She took a deep breath. “I really need you to go out with me on a date.”

Chapter Two (#ulink_08c7d13d-46b9-58ee-ab2f-fc921b7d68d9)

“You probably think I’m a gold-digging stalker.”

“Why would I?” Burke was more curious and intrigued than anything else.

“Today at the garage you said your company owns the property on the hill that’s going to be developed. As in the way people say my company is doing a hostile takeover but I just work for them and do what I’m told. As in a highly placed executive or something. It didn’t cross my mind that you owned the company. I had no idea you were in the same league with Camille’s family. The one where billionaires come to play.”

“Surprise.”

Sitting on the bar stool, she angled her body toward him. “And I hit on you!”

“It happens.”

“I just bet it does.” There was humor in her dark eyes.

Usually getting hit on turned him off. Sydney McKnight had the opposite effect. Color him shocked by this unexpected reaction to a small-town girl.

“Seriously, Burke, I wasn’t hitting on you. Not exactly. Not you...you. Any single man who was in the right age group and happened to drive up at that moment would have done just as well.”

“Way to let the air out of my ego balloon.” He took a sip of his beer.

“I’m not being mean. Just honest.”

“I like that about you, the honesty part.” And so many other things. Like the graceful arch of her dark eyebrows. The way her full lips curved up as if she found something secretly amusing. And the intelligence sparkling in her eyes.

“The thing is, Burke—and I don’t mean this in an offensive way—but what you think of me isn’t my biggest problem.”

He rested his elbow on the edge of the bar and half turned toward her. “That would imply that you might be in a bit of a predicament.”

“That would be accurate.”

“I see.”

When he moved his leg, her knee bumped his thigh and it felt oddly intimate for a bar setting. More people had wandered in for drinks but it seemed as if he and Sydney were alone. He found himself wishing they were.

“Did I hurt your feelings, when I insinuated that your opinion of me isn’t important? That certainly wasn’t my intention.”

“Not at all. Do I look like my feelings are hurt?”

She sipped her white wine and studied him. “I don’t know you well enough to make that determination. There was just an odd expression on your face.”

Hmm, she was very perceptive. He’d have to watch himself around her. “I assure you my feelings are just fine. So tell me about your problem.”

“Well it’s like this. My father is a little skeptical about our relationship.”

Burke laughed. “Can you blame him? It does feel suspiciously like a scenario from a TV sitcom.”

“I don’t know what came over me.” She sighed and shook her head. “You have no reason to believe this but I swear I’ve never done anything like that in my life. Accosting a strange man and pulling him into my situation.”

“Accost is sort of a strong word.”

She grinned. “I mean this in the nicest possible way, but you’re very good at going with the flow. Lying without really telling an untruth.”

“Thank you, I think.”

“Seriously, it was very generous of you not to rat me out on the spot.”

“I’m a generous guy.”

“Why didn’t you, by the way? Tell my dad I was crazy, I mean.”

That was a very good question and one he didn’t really have an answer for. “Chalk it up to curiosity about what you were up to.”

She nodded, then looked down and toyed with her cocktail napkin. “The thing is...” Her gaze lifted, meeting his. “Dad wants proof that we’re actually dating.”

“You mean like photographs with a time and date stamp? Movie-ticket stubs? Eyewitness accounts?”

“If only.” She sighed. “He wants to go out to dinner. A double date. You and me. Dad and Loretta—Mayor Goodson.” She held up a hand to stop any protest and went on quickly. “Just think about it. I swear this isn’t a scheme to snag a wealthy husband, but I can see where you might think that.”

Normally that’s exactly what he would think, followed quickly by the thought that it was a wasted effort. He would never get married again. Once was enough, and he’d learned he wasn’t a very good husband. The best thing to come out of the relationship was his son, but he wasn’t a very good father, either.

“I appreciate you hearing me out, Burke.” She finished the wine in her glass. “I love my father very much and would do anything to see that he’s happy.”

“He’s lucky to have a daughter like you.”

Frustration tightened her delicate features. “If he was really lucky, he’d have a daughter who was settled and he wouldn’t have to worry about her. I think I’m a big disappointment to him.”

“I sincerely doubt that. And take it from me—settling down with the wrong person is a bigger problem than being alone.”

“Sounds like the voice of experience talking.” She studied him for a moment, then said, “But you don’t have to tell me about it. That’s personal, and on a need-to-know basis. I don’t need to know.”