As she reached the table, he stood and pulled a chair out for her. He signaled to the waitress that his guest had arrived. The woman brought his assistant a menu while he retook his seat. His young assistant appeared as nervous as he felt.
Ms. Greer handed the menu back without glancing at it. “I’m not hungry.”
“You have to eat something,” he said.
“I’ll have a cuppa and some biscuits, please.” She gave a wane smile to the waitress. “Thank you.”
He snorted.
“What?” Ms. Greer’s brows drew together.
To the confused looking waitress, he explained, “She’ll have a cup of hot tea and a plate ofcookies.”
Ms. Greer rolled her eyes as the waitress walked away. “If I live to be a hundred, I will never get used to calling biscuitscookiesor chipsfries.”
“You live in America now. Learn the lingo or be prepared to eat something you don’t want and didn’t ask for.”
“It was you Americans that started calling biscuitscookiesand the like, confusing everyone.”
He grinned. “Is that so?”
She blinked. “I do believe this is the first time I’ve seen you smile, Mr. Grayson. You should do it more often. It makes you look less...”
“Intimidating?”
“I was going to say, constipated.”
He shrugged, knowing she was trying to provoke him for some reason. “Call me Chase. We aren’t at work, and Mr. Grayson is too formal for such a lovely day. May I call you Katie?”
A cute pink shade tinted her cheeks, and his unflappable assistant faltered. “I... why do you want to call me Katie? Are you firing me?”
A bark of laughter burst past his lips before he could squelch it. “What? Why would you think that?” He leaned forward and stared into her cat-like green eyes, searching for deception. “Have you done something I don’t know about?”
“No, sir.” When he gave her a disapproving look, she amended one of those two words. “No... Chase.”
“Very good. Now, you’ve worked for me for two years and I know nothing about you.”
Her eyes narrowed on his face as if she smelled a trap. “Did you or did you not say when I was hired that you were a private person and expected the same from me? I seem to recall you demanding I keep my personal life personal and never bring it to work.”
That sounded like him, although he didn’t remember those exact words coming from his mouth. “I apologize for being a...”
“Jerk?” she offered with a slight smile. “Git? Total wanker? Complete nutter?”
“Okay, okay.”
He held up his hands in mock surrender, and the genuine smile on her face was his reward. How had he not seen her beauty when she was right under his nose for so long? Perhaps it was better he hadn’t noticed. He didn’t smoke, drink to excess, or do drugs. Beautiful women were his only vice, one he refused to give up. If he’d wanted her, he would have pursued her until he got her in bed, and then he would have had to find a new assistant.
The waitress returned long enough to set a plate with six small cookies on it and a cup of tea in front of Katie. Before the woman walked away, she placed a friendly hand on his arm. “Can I refill your cup or get you something else?”
Her blue eyes openly flirted with him, and her smile offered him more than coffee. “I’m fine,” he said. “Thank you.”
The waitress walked away with disappointment etched on her lovely face. For some reason he couldn’t begin to fathom, meaningless sexual encounters had left him feeling empty and confused lately. Something deep within his soul lusted for more than a warm body to indulge in for the night, but he had no clue what. Maybe he was just getting old.
“If you were ever going to get lucky...”
He blinked. “What?”
“The waitress.” Katie smirked at him. “She is obviously into you, and I would bet a year’s salary she puts her phone number on the check.”