“Last summer at a press party.”
Relief poured through him and he almost laughed. He would have remembered if he’d slept with Jane last summer. It was the summer before that his memory got a bit dicey. “The press party at the Four Seasons?”
“No, at the Key Arena.”
He tilted his head back and looked at her. “There were a lot of people there that night, but I’m surprised I didn’t remember you,” he said, even though he wasn’t at all surprised. Jane wasn’t the sort of woman he would have remembered on first meeting. And yeah, he knew what that said about him, and he still didn’t really care. He lived his life a certain way, looked at things a certain way. He’d lived it so long, he was comfortable with himself. “But maybe not all that surprising, since you were probably wearing black,” he joked.
“I remember exactly what you were wearing,” she said and moved across the room to the kitchen. “Dark suit, red tie, gold watch, and a blond woman.”
He let his gaze slide down her back to her round booty. Everything about Jane was small but her attitude. “Were you jealous?”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Of the watch?”
“That too.”
Instead of answering, she moved into the kitchen and asked, “Do you want a cup of coffee?”
“No, thanks. I don’t drink caffeine.” He followed but stopped in the doorway of the narrow kitchen. “Are you going to take your job back?”
She set the book he’d given her on the counter and poured coffee into a tall Starbucks mug. “I might.” She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a quart of milk. The door had Post-Its stuck all over it with notes reminding her to buy everything from pickles and saltines to Comet. “How much is it worth?” she asked as she put the milk away and shut the refrigerator.
“To me personally, or the team?”
She raised the mug to her lips and looked across at him. “You personally.”
She was going to take advantage of the reversal of circumstances. Squeeze it for all it was worth. He couldn’t say he wouldn’t have done the same thing if the situation was reversed. “I gave you a peace offering.”
“I know, and I appreciate the gesture.”
She was good. Maybe he’d fire Howie and hire Jane to negotiate his next contract. “What do you want?”
“An interview.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “With me?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“After I’ve had time to do some research and get my questions together.”
“You know I hate interviews.”
“I know, but I’ll make it painless.”
He rocked back on his heels and looked down at the front of her shirt. “How painless?”
“I won’t ask you personal questions.”
She was still cold and should probably put on a sweatshirt or something. “Define personal.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t ask you about your women.”
He slid his gaze to the delicate hollow of her throat, past her lips to her eyes. “Some of that stuff you’ve probably read about me isn’t true,” he said and didn’t know why he was defending himself to her.
She blew into the mug. “Some?”
He dropped his hands to his sides and shrugged. “I’d say at least fifty percent was made up to sell books or papers.”