L.A. Fire (7 page)

  I downed my water, and slammed
the glass on the table. “Okay, you got me. I definitely need a drink.”

  He nodded and flashed me a
victorious smile. “Red or white?” he asked again.

  “Red,” I said.

  “Great.” The waiter was in our
general vicinity, and Julian motioned for him to come back to our table.  

  “Mr. McGregor. So nice to see you
again. What can I get you to drink?” he asked. He was a lanky, middle-aged man,
with closely cut salt-and-pepper sideburns. He smiled at me brightly, then
looked attentively back at Julian.

  “We’ll have the Barolo Granbussia
Riserva. In a decanter please.”

  I practically choked on my water.
That was a four hundred dollar bottle of wine. In the Liquor store. Before the
three hundred percent mark up they usually added in restaurants. And then there
was the way he ordered. In that perfect Italian accent. So unbelievably sexy.

  “Very well sir,” the waiter said,
giving Julian a slight nod, and then disappearing again.

  “Julian,” I said in a pleading
tone. “You can’t. I mean, I can’t accept. That’s an outrageously expensive
bottle of wine. Also, a whole bottle? Are you
trying
to get me drunk?
And then fired?”

  Julian shot me another wicked
look. “And what if I am? Trying to get you drunk, that is. You deserve to
loosen up a bit. And we’re sharing the bottle. So in the end, it’s only two
glasses, Sarah. And, there’s no way you’re getting fired. You’re much too
valuable an asset.”

  “But you’re driving,” I blurted
out.

  “No, I’m not. I’ve hired Steve to
come get my car. We’re taking a cab back to the office.”

  “I can’t accept, Julian,” I
repeated in a soft voice.

  “Yes you can,” he said sternly.
“And you
will
. You deserve it, Sarah. And I can’t think of anything I’d
rather do than treat you wonderfully.”

  I felt totally overwhelmed. My
mind was muddled with conflicting emotions; part of me loved the idea of being
pampered, another part of me felt so undeserving of such a grand gesture.

  Julian’s expressions suddenly
became curious. “By the way,” he said. “How do you know so much about wine?”

  “My dad,” I began. “He had a wine
cellar. Back in Manhattan. In the house I grew up in. He loved his Barolos.
Still does. As kids, we weren’t supposed to go anywhere near the cellar, but I
often played hide and seek with my sisters, and that was our favorite place to
hide out. When I was in grade ten, I stole two of his precious Barolos and got
drunk with my two best friends. As far as I was concerned then, it tasted just
awful, and the incident ended with all three of us with our heads in a toilet
bowl. And when my dad found out, I was grounded for a month. It wasn’t until my
early twenties that I was actually able to tell the difference between a good
wine and a bad wine. So really, it was a big waste.”

  Julian gave me another sly,
provocative smile. “I knew there was a wild girl streak in there somewhere. You
come across so contained, so controlled.” His expression darkened, and again
his eyes caressed my lips and my curves. “But I can see the passion simmering
just below the surface.”

  I felt my lip start to tremble
again, and Julian’s eyes became riveted to my mouth. I sat up straight and
smoothed back my hair, doing whatever I could to avoid Julian’s gaze. Luckily
the waiter returned, providing a well needed distraction. He showed Julian the
bottle, opened it, and poured him a splash to taste. “The lady will test it,”
he said, handing me his glass. “She has an excellent palette.”

  I took the glass from Julian and
took a long sniff, savoring the aromas of plum, spice, and rich tannins. The
wine itself had a complex structure and a smooth finish. I gave the waiter a
look of approval. “It’s fabulous.”

  He nodded, filled up our glasses,
and took our orders. I decided on the cobb salad, and Julian picked the steak
and frites.

  There was a long silence as we
sat there for a moment enjoying our wine. Julian finally broke it. “Are you
seeing anyone, Sarah?”

  I almost spit up my fabulous
wine. Even with all the innuendo, somehow his question still came as a
surprise. “No,” I said quietly. “And I want to keep it that way.” I was amazed
by how firm I sounded.

  Julian sat back in his chair, and
eyed me with that now familiar assessing look. “You’re a beautiful woman,
Sarah. And smart, too. You’re an absolute catch. Why are you not open to
dating?” he asked, scrutinizing me closely.

  “Because,” I said, my voice
sounding a bit shaky, “I’m trying to focus on my career right now. I don’t have
time to get into a relationship.”

  He took another sip of his wine,
and shook his head slightly. “That sounds like a rationalization.” Then his
face clouded over. “Are you not interested in dating? Or are you not interested
in dating me?”

  I gave him a long look, and he
stared back at me, trying to read my expression. “It’s a bad idea, Julian,” I
finally said.

  “Why?”

  “Because I work for you. And I
don’t want to jeopardize my career.”

  Our meals arrived, and I quickly
busied myself with unfolding my napkin, adjusting my cutlery, anything that
would keep me from having to look at this smoking hot man in front of me,
because I knew that if I met his eye, my resolve to push him away might falter.

  “Sarah,” he said in deep,
rumbling voice that put my stomach in knots. “Look at me.” And I did. And again
my breath caught when I saw the relentless desire in his eyes. The way he was
looking at me held the promise that he wouldn’t back down, no matter how many
times I pushed him away. But I couldn’t give in. My career was important to me.
I couldn’t throw it away. I had to be strong.

  “You don’t work for me,” he said
in an even tone. “You work for Paul.”

  I drove my fork forcefully into a
leaf of romaine lettuce, and shook my head. “But you and Paul are partners.”

  “We handle separate accounts.”

  I shook my head. “It still looks
bad,” I said.

  “I don’t care how it looks.”

  I glared at him. “Well, I do.” My
hand started trembling again, and my voice rose a bit. “You have nothing to
lose. You own one of the most successful talent agencies in the city. Scratch
that, the country. I’m just a new young hire, who has
everything
to
lose. Working for Paul is a chance of a lifetime for me. I don’t want to blow
it.”

  Julian took a long sip of his
wine, and his expression softened a bit. “I won’t jeopardize your career,” he
said. “No matter what happens with us, your job is safe.”

  I felt so conflicted, so
confused, and it must have shown on my face. Julian reached across the table
and put his hand over mine. Just the feel of his strong, warm hand on mine sent
a charge of electricity coursing through me.

  “You can’t deny the strong
attraction here, Sarah.” I looked up at him helplessly. He tightened his grip
on my hand. “I’m not going to let you deny it,” he said, forcefully. But then
he pulled his hand away, and the instant he did, I had an immediate craving for
him to put it back. I realized I was already addicted to his touch.

  The feeling of loss must have
registered on my face, because Julian suddenly looked encouraged, and more
determined than ever. “Let me take you out tonight.”

  I felt myself frown slightly.
“Like on a date?”

  His expression became deadly
serious. “Precisely.”

  Flustered, I looked away. “I
can’t,” I said. “I’m meeting my roommate.”

  He scrutinized me closely, no
doubt trying to figure out if I was lying. I decided to expand, feeling like I
owed him an explanation. “I’m heading to the bar she works at.
Strut.
On
Sunset. I promised I’d go tonight.”

  I saw something flash in his
eyes, something I couldn’t quite place. “Alright,” he finally said. “But I
will
take you out, Sarah. On a date. In the very near future. Are we clear?” he
asked, his expression hot and demanding.

  I sighed, and then, despite my
better judgment, I surrendered. “Crystal,” I said, downing my final sip of
wine. Then I looked at my watch. It was almost 1:30. I must have looked
panicked, because Julian reached across the table for my hand again.

  “Don’t fret, Sarah. I’ll just get
the bill, and then we can head back to the office.”

  In five minutes we were in a cab,
on our way back to Cooper McGregor. I had to admit, I’d had a fabulous time
with Julian. Despite my reservations, there was no doubt I was drawn to him.
Still, the reservations were significant. Sitting in the cab with my wine buzz
fading, fear suddenly bolted through me as it dawned on me that I may have made
a huge mistake. Despite what Julian said, there was a very real chance that
going on even one date with him might jeopardize my career. There was no
question I had to think this all through carefully, when I was far away from
him and could think straight.

  I couldn’t have been more excited
to get home from work that day. The afternoon had been crazy hectic, with Paul
having me draw up more contracts, type up his notes, and read through more
works in the slush pile. When I got back from lunch with Julian, he gave me a
weary look. I could totally tell he wasn’t impressed. I even think he ran me so
ragged that afternoon because he wanted to make sure I was more about work than
play.

  I sunk into our comfy, brown
leather couch, and threw my purse on the coffee table. I noticed the message
light was beeping, so I went and picked up the phone. There were two messages.
The first was from Angela.

  “Hey, babe. Just reminding you
that you promised to show at
Strut
tonight. And I’m holding you too it.
See ya soon.”

  I smiled into the phone. I could
always count on Angela to pull me out of my default mode of housebound
workaholic. It was 8pm, and she was clearly already at work, but I desperately
wished she was home so I could dish about Julian. I so needed to vent right
now. The second message was from Lisa. My absolute bestie. She was living in
Manhattan right now, working at a literary agency, but we still talked at least
once a week.   

  “Hey Stranger, home early
tonight. You know your life’s pathetic when early means 7pm. I know you’re
still at work, seeing as it’s 4pm in sunny L.A., but if you get this before
11pm my time, give me a call. I miss you tons.”

  It was 11pm her time now.
Perfect. I dialed her number, and hoped and prayed she wasn’t in bed yet.

  “Ser! I was just about to pack it
in for the night. How are you, babe?”

  I smiled into the phone. If there
was one thing I loved about Lisa, it was her exuberance. She always sounded so
excited to hear from me. “I’m okay,” I said.

  “You sound hesitant,” she said.
“I know that voice. What’s going on?”

  “Man troubles.”

  “Okay, this I gotta hear.”

  “Well, I’m trying to figure out
if it’s worth throwing my career out the window for a chance to bang the
hottest guy I’ve ever seen.”

  There was a pause on the other
end of the line. “You are so not thinking of sleeping with your boss.”

  “Not exactly. More like my boss’s
partner.”

  “Julian McGregor. You can’t be
serious.”

  I let out a long sigh, and walked
to the kitchen to go grab a glass of water. “I know, I know, but he’s coming on
really strong, and, there’s just something about him.”