Harry made a note on the side of a page, angled away from Rand. She thought he couldn’t see it. There were three capital letters, OMG. He fucking loved it.
She said, “Is it all right if I get back to you with an answer on that?” as though it was an issue she’d need to take a barrage of professional advice on.
“I was hoping for a more spur-of-the-moment admission but sure, I can wait. Maybe I should give you my other questions so you can ponder them at the same time,” he said, and he couldn’t keep the undisguised glee out of his smile.
“Sounds sensible.”
“I can guarantee you it won’t be, Harry,” said Roley, turning to face her. “Get out while you’re still ahead.”
Rand said loudly, “Moral support Roley, not vocal,” and Roley’s open mouth snapped shut with a chomp sound as his back teeth connected.
Rand held up two fingers. “Question two. How many dates do you need between first base and second base?” A smile threatened to crash through Harry’s closed mouth and Roley laughed.
Rand continued. “Or do you believe they can be combined under the right circumstances and if so, what would those circumstances be?”
“Is that it?” asked Harry. She wasn’t looking at him. She was trying not to laugh.
“No. Question three. Assuming a combination of first and second base happens—that’s kissing and feeling you up, in case you need clarification—how many dates are required before you let me get to third base, which is—”
Harry gasped, interrupting him, “Can this be multiple choice?” She looked directly at him for the first time. Jesus, he wanted to kiss her. But for Roley, he might’ve gone for it.
He kept it together. “No, these are technical questions. I want accurate answers not an approximation.”
“I don’t think I can do this anymore,” said Roley laughing, pressing his seat back down and his leg rest up, crossing his feet in his jungle pattern shoes.
Rand held up four fingers. “Question four. What are the possibilities of a guy like me scoring a home run with a girl like you?”
Roley from his prone position said, “Gawd!”
Harry flicked through a file and Rand said, “What are you doing?”
“I’m just checking on the fine print.”
“The fine print?”
“Yeah, there’s always fine print. I need to take it into consideration when I’m framing my responses to your technical questions.”
“Oh, why is that?”
“Because the contract says ‘access all areas’,” she said, struggling to keep her voice level. Roley snorted with laughter and she continued, “I’m not sure that it gives specific time frames for particular levels of access. But I’ll check and come back to you.”
Roley said, “Well that was fun. I hope that worked out for you, Rand.”
Rand pushed his seat all the way back too. He let out a deep contented sigh. It was working out just beautifully.
19. Pitcher Up
Rand had dressed to shock. Gray suit, crisp white shirt, he had paint-free nails, had removed his earrings and brow stud and left the gel out of his hair. All his tats were covered. It was goodbye bad boy. He just hoped it worked for her. He was waiting at a table by the window and he saw her enter the restaurant. Harry bit her bottom lip when she saw him. He got slowly to his feet and walked across the floor to meet her.
“Good evening, gorgeous,” he said in her ear, her cheek smooth against his. He took her hand and led her back to the table. He waved off a waiter, pulled out a chair for her, and poured her a glass of champagne.
He’d wanted to pick her up from her hotel, but she’d baulked at that. Probably figured if she arrived under her own steam it would be simple to leave that way as well. She’d always been smart.
She smiled across the table at him. “Rand, you’re making me nervous.”
“Oh.” Not what he’d been trying for.
“Stop looking at me like that.”