I tried not to think about how I was still in my pajamas or how my apartment must look to someone who made more in a month than I did in two years. I had nothing to be ashamed of, especially when considering how far I come, though Rylan knew nothing about that.
“You wanted to explain,” I said as I stood next to my table. “Go ahead.”
Rylan crossed to my thrift store couch and sat down. He looked up at me, as if waiting for me to take a seat as well. I didn't say a word and stood there, arms crossed over my chest, an eyebrow raised in silent question. He leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees.
“You were right when you said I had the skills needed to fix the issue.” A sheepish look crossed his face. “Mostly because I wrote it.”
I frowned, but didn't say a word. I may have looked like I stayed upright because I was pissed, and that might've been one of the reasons, but the main motivation was more self-servicing. If I was on my feet, I could get out the door before he grabbed me...
“It wasn't a job,” he said. “It was a job interview.”
“Say again?”
“My security tech did try to sell me out,” he said. “But he wasn't as smart as he thought he was. I caught it in plenty of time and isolated the damaged software to my system only.”
I inched toward the door, starting to wonder if I'd need the cops from the hall after all. Rylan's explanation sounded an awful lot like he'd planned things so he could be alone with me.
“I know what you're thinking,” he said. “But hear me out.”
I waited, my entire body tense, prepared for fight or flight.
“I need to replace my tech and do it fast. I'm a programmer and designer. I have the capability to deal with the security issues, but it's not my strong suit.”
“So you advertise, like a normal person.” I regretted saying it as soon as the words left my mouth. What was it about this man that cracked years of careful self-control and made me say whatever popped into my head?
“Okay,” he said. “I probably deserved that.”
He spread his hands out in front of him and I noticed, for the first time, that he had long, slim fingers, the kind musicians often had.
“Like I said, I needed to find someone fast, so instead of wasting my time wading through a bunch of applications from people who couldn't find their way out of a simple code, I decided to try something different.”
“You hired me,” I said. I wasn't happy he'd been deceitful, but at least these pieces provided a relatively sane explanation for what had happened.
Rylan nodded. “I had to see if you were as good as I'd heard, and the best way to do that wasn't to sit and talk to you about shit I could find with a ten minute internet search. I needed to see you in action.”
“Why didn't you just say that?” I asked.
“You had to think the stakes and the deadline was real for me to get an accurate take,” he said. “But I would've told you at the end if...”
“If I hadn't freaked out,” I finished it for him. It was the truth. I over-reacted. The end.
He gave me a half-smile that said he agreed with my description, but hadn't wanted to say it. “It's partially my fault,” he said. “I should've realized how it would've looked from your perspective.”
I had to give him points for admitting it instead of just acting like I was crazy.
“So, what do you say?” he asked.
“Say about what?”
“My job offer. Full time security tech. You'd be responsible for writing security code, checking code, making sure our servers were safe.” He stood. “And no more tricks. I promise.”
I shook my head. Even if the interview had been done differently, I wouldn't have accepted the position. “No thank you. I prefer running my own company.”
“Are you sure?” he asked. “Starting salary is sixty thousand, plus an expense account for travel. Full benefits after sixty days. Vision. Dental.”
“I'm sorry,” I said. “I'm sorry you wasted your time with me, but I'm not interested.”
“Not even if I throw in a company car?” His eyes gleamed and I wondered if he was teasing me.
I gave him a half-smile. “I like my independence too much.”
“That's too bad,” he said. “I think we could've been good together.”
Something in his voice told me he wasn't only talking about work. There was a heat to his gaze that hadn't been there before and I knew we'd made a shift from professional now that he knew I wasn't wouldn't take his job offer.
“Was there anything else?” I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. Now that we weren't talking business, I was suddenly more aware of just how good-looking he was.
“Let me take you out for coffee,” he offered. “A true apology.”
“That's okay,” I said. My eyes flicked up to his and they held. They really were a perfect combination of blue and violet, a deep, rich color that I could get lost in if I let myself. I needed him to go.
“All right,” he said even as I torn my gaze away. “Then you should take me out for coffee.”
I looked back up at him.
He was grinning. “Think of it as an apology for the black eye.”
Dammit. How could I argue with that? I had hit him and he was going to have to explain to his employees why he had a shiner. He hadn't even asked for an apology for it either.
And, if I was going to be completely honest, I kind of wanted to go out with him. Now that the whole misunderstanding had been cleared up, I could admit what I'd known yesterday from the moment I'd seen him. He was fucking hot. And it wasn't just a physical attraction either. He was probably one of the few people I knew who was as smart as I was. Okay, probably the only person.
Still, I tried to make my tone as reluctant as possible. “Well, if you think so.”
He smiled, showing a dimple in his left cheek.
“But not now,” I quickly said. I didn't want him to stick around while I showered and dressed, and I couldn't ask him to wait outside without an explanation. “You have to go to work, right? Find yourself another tech.”
“Tomorrow,” he said. “Morning or afternoon?”
“Afternoon,” I answered promptly. If he let me set the guidelines, this would go quite well. “You know Marco's Diner over on Fourth?”
“I do,” he answered.
“Meet me there at one.”
Chapter 5
I didn't let myself get nervous before I walked over to the diner. What would the point be? Besides, this wasn't a date. It was coffee as a thank you and an apology. There might be some flirting and I was definitely planning on admiring the view, but it wasn't anything more than that. Guys like him didn't date girls like me, even if I'd been thinking of it that way. I'd been a little surprised when he'd agreed to meet me in public, though I supposed he assumed no one would recognize him in a little diner on that side of town.
Still, I dressed up. I couldn't exactly say I'd dressed nicely because I doubted anyone would describe my outfit with that adjective, but it was tame compared to what I usually wore out. Skinny jeans and a simple long-sleeved black shirt with a fairly modest scooped neckline. I did wear a pair of heavy boots and my leather jacket. If I'd had normal hair, I might not have gotten a second look from anyone.
I saw the surprise in Rylan's eyes when I came into the diner, but I was too busy appreciating his jeans and fitted sweater to comment. I took the seat across from him and then realized this wasn't an area I had much experience in. Okay, I didn't have any experience at all. I didn't do the whole dating thing. I either worked with men or I fucked them; the second consisting of a brief exchange of words that may or may not include first names.
It wasn't until I tried to figure out what I was supposed to say that I realized I may have set the time and place, but I wasn't in control. I didn't like that at all. At least this wasn't an actual date.
“Do you want something to eat or just coffee?” Rylan motioned for a waitress.
“That depends.” I found my voice. “Does ordering a cheeseburger turn this into a dinner date? Because if it does, I'll stick with the coffee.”
He chuckled and I relaxed.
“Considering I've never had a woman order a cheeseburger on a date, I think you're safe.”
“No surprise there,” I replied.
The waitress raised her eyebrows when she saw me and then asked if we knew what we wanted. I ordered my cheeseburger and fries, then smirked when Rylan got the same thing. When the waitress walked away, I looked at him.
“It sounded good.” He shrugged, then leaned forward. “What did you mean when you said it wasn't a surprise?”
“Supermodels and actresses tend to stick with salads or shit like kale,” I answered matter-of-factly. Since I didn't know how I was supposed to be behave on a real date – which this wasn't – I'd just be me. Maybe by the end of the meal, he'd realize he dodged a bullet when I turned down his job offer.
“And what makes you think I date supermodels and actresses?”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, so maybe all of them aren't exactly in that field, but they could be if they wanted to. Men like you date those kinds of women. The gorgeous ones who watch what they eat and spend half their day with a personal trainer.”
“Men like me?” He took a sip of his coffee.
“Good-looking, rich, powerful.” I glanced toward the waitress returning with my coffee. “Men like you.”
“So you do think I'm attractive.” He smiled, showing that dimple again.
I glared at him as I took a drink and burnt my tongue. “I don't really think that's an appropriate work conversation.”
“Then it's a good thing we're not at work and you turned down my job offer. I'm not your employer.” His eyes twinkled. “Which means I can tell you that while you look great, I was hoping for another mini-skirt, because you have amazing legs.”
I raised an eyebrow. That was a bit more forward than I'd expected from him. I thought he had devised this opportunity to try to talk me into taking his job offer. Of course, I'd thought charming and flirting would be part of the deal, but I'd expected subtle, nothing that could be taken for actual attraction.
“If that's the case, why'd you offer me a job?” I asked. “Were you planning on coming in every day to check out my legs?”
“That would've just been a bonus,” he said easily. “But I value your mind over your body.”
I wasn't quite sure how to take that one. I knew my employers valued my mind over my appearance, but I'd never heard anyone say they wanted my brain more than my body. I wasn't entirely sure how I felt about that. In fact, I wasn't sure how I felt about this entire encounter. It was a relief when the waitress brought our food and I was able to dig in.
“For the record,” Rylan broken the silence that had fallen while we'd started on our meals. “The reason most of my dates don't order cheeseburgers is because they're not generally on the menu.”
“Ah,” I said. “Too good for regular people food?”
He rolled his eyes and I almost choked on my hamburger from trying not to laugh. Sitting across from him, looking at the smear of ketchup on the corner of his mouth, watching him make the kind of face I'd seen guys in college make with their friends, I thought I could see a much younger version of Rylan Archer.
“What?” he asked.
I pointed to the side of my face. “You have some stuff on your cheek.”
He picked up a napkin and brushed at the wrong side.
I shook my head. I knew he was messing with me. His expression was serious, but there was a twinkle in his eyes. He dabbed at his cheek higher up and I knew what he was trying to bait me into doing. I bit, and reached for the napkin. He let me take it, his fingers brushing against mine. I was ready for the possibility of a touch this time so I didn't flinch or pull away. Besides, we were in a public place, which did give me a bit of a safety net.
I used the corner of the napkin to clean off the ketchup, and it was harder than I expected to pull away without touching his face. I was itching to know how the stubble on his cheeks and chin would feel against my fingers, if his lips were as soft as they looked.
I dropped my hand. “There, all better.” I resisted the urge to rub my hand on my pants. Usually, after this much time had passed since I'd met a guy, we'd either gone our separate ways or were already tearing each other's clothes off. And there was never any of this kind of light flirting.
When we were done here, I would need to get laid, just to get things back to normal.
I finished my cheeseburger without another word, keeping my eyes on my plate. I felt his gaze on me, but didn't look up to meet it. As attractive as I found Rylan and as good as the food was, I was ready for this... whatever this was to be over. This was why I didn't date. Too much of a risk of some sort of personal connection. Better just to fuck and flee.
“Is something wrong?” Rylan's voice was worried.
“No.” I shook my head as I glanced up at him. I regretted it immediately. Damn those eyes. I was used to having men either disgusted with me or visually undressing me. Not looking at me with interest and concern. Something inside me sparked and I shoved it down. I wasn't going there. I needed a distraction. “So, Mr. Rylan Archer, CEO, how did you explain that shiner to your employees?”
He laughed and let me change the subject. He brushed his fingers across the deep purplish bruise beneath his eye as if just remembering it was there. “I considered trying to cover it up with make-up, but then I realized I'd look kind of silly trying to figure out how to match my coloring.”
I smiled in agreement.
“So I just told them the truth.”
“Seriously?” I stared at him.
“I told them I was mugged by a three hundred pound biker.”
I laughed, and the tension that had been building eased.
“Actually, I didn't offer an explanation and no one asked,” he admitted. “It was a little embarrassing.” He quickly clarified. “Not because you're a woman, but because I over-stepped by touching your arm.”
“I over-reacted,” I said. “It was my fault.”
He waved his hand. “Neither here nor there. It's over. No need to discuss it.” He popped the last bite of his cheeseburger into his mouth.
“So we've had our apologies for our behavior,” I said. “And we've both finished our meal...”