The Pitch: City Love 2 (6 page)

I spent the ten-minute walk to the main street in Kirribilli uselessly debating with myself. Was this dinner something more than two business associates catching up socially? As soon as I thought it, I admonished myself for thinking it was anything else.

Paul was already sitting at a table for two when I arrived. I’d left my hair down and was wearing a simple yellow shift dress that contrasted my tanned skin. I was aiming for casual elegance, but now that I was standing in front of Paul the skirt suddenly felt too short and my arms very bare despite the balmy evening.

He stood up and brushed his lips against my cheek. His eyes dropped to my dress. “You look nice.”

I stepped back self-consciously. Having his eyes on me like that was making it hard to breathe. “How did you know about Thai Fusion?” I asked.

Paul’s eyes returned to mine and I refrained from breaking his intense gaze. He looked good tonight. The polo shirt he was wearing brought out the blue in his eyes.

“I live in Lavender Bay, so I’ve been here quite a few times,” he told me.

“So you’re a local like I am.”

We both sat down and silence stretched awkwardly between us. What the hell was I doing here?
You’re not doing anything, Maddy,
my subconscious reminded me.
It’s called dinner with an acquaintance.

Paul cleared his throat and I couldn’t read his expression. “Are you up for a red?”

I nodded. “Wine would be good. Did you want to order separately or share?”

Why did this feel so ridiculous? Our small talk dinner conversation was bordering on painful.

“Let’s share,” he replied.

I set myself the task of studying the menu. After the waiter had taken our order, I found myself avoiding Paul’s eyes, opting to people watch instead. There was an older couple chatting heatedly in the far corner and I flinched when they erupted into raucous laughter. I’d assumed they were having an argument, but clearly I wasn’t very good at reading people.

“Madeleine.”

Why couldn’t he just call me Maddy? The effect of that one word was doing my head in. I returned my attention to him and realized he was observing me with a small smile.

“Do you always ignore your dinner partners?”

He was right. I was being rude. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just distracted.”
By you
, I wanted to add, but didn’t.

The waiter arrived at our table with the bottle of wine and we waited as he poured us each a glass.

Paul nodded in my direction. “Now take a sip and relax.”

“Sorry,” I said again. I did as he’d suggested and took a long sip from my wine glass. The Shiraz warmed my throat as it went down and I was grateful for the alcohol. I needed to loosen up. Or get a grip. I wasn’t sure which. “You’re not seeing your boys this weekend?”

Paul shook his head. “Next weekend. The weekends I don’t see them always feel quiet.”

I pondered his response before replying. “While it’s hardly a good thing you only get to see them every second weekend, most parents don’t get the opportunity to have a social life.”

“I’d trade it in an instant. My boys are far more interesting to me than socializing. Present company excluded, of course.”

I smiled at him. “Thanks. How long has that been the arrangement?”

“Almost five years. You’d think I’d be used to it by now.” The look in his eyes reminded me of his expression several nights ago when we left Grounded Marketing. He seemed wounded. Weary.

It was time to change the subject. “So do you still play guitar?”

He leaned back in his chair with a soft smile. “I don’t even own a guitar anymore,” he admitted.

“Really? It sounded as though it was a big part of your life. What happened?”

He shrugged. “Life. Work. Children. I hardly picked it up once we had the kids and then when we divorced, it got damaged in the move. I never bothered to replace it. Do you play anything?”

I responded with a short laugh, then pointed at myself. “You’re looking at the first clarinet player in my high school band,” I announced, a little too proudly. “Once I hit eighteen I didn’t really bother anymore. I was too sophisticated for it.”

“Right.” He looked as though he was trying to imagine me playing the clarinet – without much success.

“I listen to a lot of music,” I continued. “My taste is pretty eclectic. I sometimes listen to classical when I’m working and I don’t mind some of the pop stuff like Katy Perry or Kylie.” I laughed at his unimpressed expression. “My real weakness is rock. Coldplay, Temper Trap, the Foals. I grew up on a steady diet of Pearl Jam, Radiohead, Metallica, that sort of thing.”

“Now we’re talking,” Paul said with a look of respect. “Although I’m afraid I’ll show my age when it comes to my tastes.”

“And what age would that be?” I asked innocently.

Amusement flared in his eyes. “You don’t give up do you?”

“It’s one of my strengths.”

“I can believe it.”

“So?”

He set down his glass of wine. “So what?”

“If you’re not going to tell me your age at least tell me what old-timer music you’re into.”

He shook his head and laughed. “Alright. Pink Floyd, INXS, Midnight Oil, Crowded House, Dire Straits.”

“The eighties. I’m a child of the eighties, but the nineties were my formative years. That must mean you were born in the nineteen seventies,” I concluded.

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he raised the wine glass to his lips. Those mesmerizing blue eyes watched me as he took another sip.

My eyebrows shot up. “The
sixties?
”

He swallowed and his mouth curled into a sly grin. He was playing with me.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Early seventies.”

He set his glass back down. “I’m forty-four.”

Hmm. So not too old, but older than I was expecting, I realized. “You look late thirties to me, forty at the most.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should. And I like those bands too, you know. They’re classics.”

Paul’s smile was teasing. “Good to know you’re more than just a pretty face.”

I gave him my most offended look. “I thought you’d figured out I was more than that by now.”

Paul’s expression turned serious. “I knew you were more than that the first moment I set eyes on you,” he said softly. “Although I wouldn’t be the only man awestruck by your beauty.”

Had I heard right? Or had I had too much to drink? “I – ” I began, then closed my mouth. I had no idea what to say next.

“I’m sorry.” Paul sat back in his seat abruptly. His voice was business-like and his eyes were guarded.

“That’s fine, Paul,” I replied, carefully. “I appreciate the compliment.”

He nodded, then stood quickly. “Excuse me.”

Before I could reply, he walked toward the back of the restaurant, in search of the bathrooms I was guessing.

I inhaled a deep breath, my heart pounding. So I wasn’t imagining it. Something was going on here. Except, judging from Paul’s quick withdrawal from the conversation, he was fighting it.

I took a long sip of my wine while questions floated through my mind in rapid succession. Was he really attracted to me? Or had it just been a compliment gone wrong, which was why he withdrew it so quickly? If he
was
attracted to me, was he resisting it due to some sense of professional obligation?

And if that was the case, how did I convince him otherwise?

*

“He said he was awestruck by your beauty!” Cate squealed. She looked like she was about to melt on the spot.

Scarlett held up a firm hand. “Cool it, Cate. What happened afterwards?”

I surveyed my girlfriends. It was Sunday night and we were gathered around Christa and Cate’s coffee table sharing sushi for dinner.

“He apologized immediately. Then he got up and went to the bathroom,” I told them.

“After he came back?” Scarlett asked.

“It was really awkward. We ended up talking about business for the rest of the dinner. He couldn’t get out of there fast enough.”

“Odd,” commented Christa, as she deliberated over a choice of salmon or teriyaki chicken sushi.

“Not odd. Exciting!” Cate corrected.

I grimaced. “I don’t see what’s so exciting about having to spend the next month working with Paul when I’m going to be constantly questioning if he does – or doesn’t – have feelings for me. And if he does, why he refuses to do something about it.”

“Don’t you see,” Cate continued, “he likes you, but doesn’t feel he can do anything about it.”

“I have to agree with Cate there,” Scarlett admitted. “Assuming he likes you, he’s definitely holding back.”

Scarlett and Cate were usually polar opposites, so this revelation was worrying.

“Well, there’s nothing I can do about that,” I said. “I’m just going to have to prepare myself for a month of awkwardness. Fun.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Scarlett said. She poured me a glass of white wine and pushed it in my direction. I had the strong sense she was trying to loosen me up for whatever was coming next. “This is where blind date number two comes in.”

I paused mid-sip. “I don’t understand.”

“Paul is fifteen years your senior, he’s in a position of responsibility and you’ve met in a professional setting. No matter how much he likes you, he’s not going to let anything happen.”

“Exactly,” I agreed. “Are you telling me to forget about him and go on more blind dates? That’s not very inspiring, I’ve got to say.”

“Not quite.” Scarlett gave us an evil grin. “We use the next blind date as bait.”

“Good God,” muttered Christa.

Cate and I remained speechless, too scared to talk.

Scarlett ignored our obvious lack of enthusiasm. “I’ve already mentioned John to you. He’s the guy with the good taste who bought some of my artwork from the gallery. I’m going to convince him to wine and dine you to oblivion. Meanwhile, Paul is going to witness all of this until he can’t bear it.”

“That doesn’t seem right,” Cate said, and I couldn’t help agreeing with her. “If Paul does have feelings for Maddy, it seems cruel. And what about John? He might develop feelings for Maddy and get hurt too.”

“I’m going to be upfront with John,” Scarlett told us.

“Excuse me?” I finally managed.

“He’ll know the situation,” Scarlett reiterated, “so he won’t be disappointed.”

“Then what’s in it for him?” I asked carefully. I hoped Scarlett didn’t have any plans for a friends-with-benefits style of arrangement because that definitely wasn’t my thing.

“Some quality time with a charming young woman and first offer at my next series of paintings,” Scarlett announced, like the deal was done and dusted.

Silence followed as the rest of us contemplated Scarlett’s ridiculous plan. Eventually I decided to put an end to her madness.

“Not to underestimate my attractiveness or your talent, Scarlett,” I said, “but what makes you think this is going to be an appealing scenario for John?”

“Because he’s that sort of guy. He loves helping people out. Plus he loves my artwork, which he’ll only get a chance to buy if he helps to land Paul for you.”

I swallowed painfully. This was getting absurd. Paul was my mentor and a very nice man. As attractive as I found him, I had no intention of manipulating him into having feelings for me. I told Scarlett as much.

“That’s the thing,” Scarlett persisted. “You’re not manipulating his feelings for you, Maddy, you’re merely manipulating the situation. It’s the situation that’s preventing him from being honest with you and making a move.”

“It still doesn’t seem right,” Cate interjected. “How would Paul feel if he found out about this plan? Not very happy, I’m guessing.”

“And I don’t want to manipulate anything,” I told them. “If Paul is going to make a move on me, he needs to do it freely.”

“Wrong again,” Scarlett shot back. “You’re going to make a move on him.”

“While I’m seeing John? You really
are
losing it.”

“No, of course not. After you and John have a spectacular disagreement, you’ll turn to Paul for solace,” Scarlett informed us.

Christa started giggling at the absurdity of it all, I was guessing.

“Shut up,” I told her, not unkindly, but she kept laughing anyway.

“Paul won’t know what hit him when you fall into his arms,” Scarlett continued. “He won’t be able to think, he’s just going to react.”

Cate looked appalled. “Scarlett – ”

“Be quiet, Miss Romance. I know you don’t have the stomach for this, but Maddy does, you’ll see. She’s a businesswoman who gets what she wants.”

Frankly, what I wanted right now was to be curled up on my lounge at home, not having this insane conversation.

Scarlett turned to me and I was shocked by the look in her dark eyes. They held an appeal. “Maddy, please think about this. We’ve watched you work your butt off for the last four years. You deserve every success Grounded Marketing has earned so far, but you also deserve to be happy personally too.”

“Yes, but I don’t see how forcing the situation – ”

“I’m not finished. Ever since Chris, there hasn’t been a single guy to turn your head. Paul is the first one. In
four
years. You need to give this a chance. And if being a little creative is the best way to make this happen, you need to try it.”

“By going out with another guy and deceiving Paul in the process,” I said flatly.

“Yes,” she replied.

“Let’s not forget things at Grounded Marketing are very intense at the moment. I’m supposed to be winning this big bank pitch,” I added, not sure why I was entertaining the idea.

I turned to Christa for her thoughts on the situation. We were already clear on where Cate stood. “This is your fault,” I told Christa. “She’s your friend. I wouldn’t be subjected to this if you hadn’t introduced us.”

She sighed. “I know and I’m sorry. While I think Scarlett’s evil plan is slightly over the top, I think she has a point.”

“
Really?”

“Really.”

“Why on earth?”

“Because you don’t see it, Maddy.” Christa reached over and squeezed my arm.

I didn’t say anything, just sat waiting for her to make her point, which I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear.