How to Get Over Your Ex (4 page)

But he held his assent back, in case it had more power a few
moments later.

His entire life was about holding things back until they had
the most advantage.

‘My days are packed out from dawn until dusk.’

Georgia shrugged. ‘I have a job, too, so they’re going to be
evening and weekend things anyway, I imagine.’

It was hard not to admire her for sticking to her guns. Not too
many people made a habit of saying no to him these days. He had them all too
scared.

‘I have things I like to do on my weekends,’ he argued. But not
very convincingly. Hard-to-get was all part of the game.

One dark, well-shaped eyebrow lifted. ‘How badly do you want
these ratings?’

A stain of colour came to her cheeks. Either she was shocked at
her own audacity or she was enjoying giving him some stick. He used the time she
thought he was thinking about her offer to study her features instead. She had a
right-hand-side dimple that totally belied the determination of those set lips,
and she had a chin built for protesting.

That was probably long enough. He hissed as if he hadn’t made
his decision sixty seconds ago. ‘Fine. I’ll do it.’

Her triumph was so brief. It only took her a heartbeat to
realise that his commitment had fully sealed hers. And her next twelve
months.

‘One more condition,’ she hurried as a pair of drink menus
arrived. It was his turn to lift a brow. ‘No one mentions Dan. No one. You will
leave him completely alone.’

Loyalty blazed from her chocolate eyes.

Somewhere down deep where constancy used to live in him, he
admired her for continuing to protect the man she’d injured. A man she still
cared for even though he’d also hurt her horribly. It said she might have been
impetuous and naïve but she was faithful. And that was a rare commodity in his
world. Her hurt and anger were very clearly directed at herself. In fact, the
most notable thing about her manner was the absence of the flat, lifeless lack
of interest that he associated so closely with heartbreak—and knew so
intimately.

He wondered if she’d even realised yet that her heart wasn’t
broken.

‘OK, Daniel is out of it.’

‘And get the media to lay off him.’

He snorted. Whoever taught Georgia about manners forgot to
teach her about pushing her luck. ‘No one can halt that train now that it’s
moving, Georgia. I can promise EROS won’t use him, but there’s nothing I can do
about him being London’s most wanted. He’s a big boy. He’ll be fine.’

Besides, judging by what he heard on the broadcast, Daniel
Bradford could look after himself.

He leaned forward and locked his eyes on hers. ‘You’ve played
this well—’
for a civilian
‘—but I’ve bent about as
far as I’m going to go. I’ll have an amendment to the contract drawn up and
ready for your signature next week.’

She nodded and sank back in her side of the booth.

‘How about some dinner?’

She just blinked at him.

‘You do eat dinner?’

‘Um, yes. Though not usually out. Except for special
occasions.’

She truly hadn’t begun to imagine ways of spending her huge
windfall? He tried one last time to prove that she was like everyone else.
‘Don’t tell me you’re another mad-keen home chef?’

Her laugh was automatic. ‘No, definitely not.’

‘You don’t cook?’

‘I prepare food. But it’s not really cooking. The latest in a
number of reasons it was probably just as well Dan declined my proposal.’

She certainly was taking her failed marriage-bid a hell of a
lot better than he’d taken his. Did that say more about her or Bradford?

Or him?

He fired up his tablet and tapped a few keys. ‘I think we just
found your first official Year of Georgia idea.’

‘Eating out in every restaurant in London?’

‘Culinary school.’ He chuckled.

She stared. ‘I hated home economics at school. What makes you
think I’ll enjoy it now?’

‘Half the women on my staff are right into those social cooking
classes. Wine, conversation, cooking techniques from the experts. The sessions
must have something going for them.’

Her lips tightened. ‘I’m not sure I’d want to go where your
staff—’

‘God, no.’ He pushed his chair back and stood. ‘That’s the last
thing I want, too.’

‘You?’

‘I’ll be coming along. Or have you changed your mind?’

Her delicate brows folded closer together. ‘It’s not me doing
it for me if I’m doing it with you. The dynamic would be all wrong.’

Dynamic. That sounded almost credible. What was she really
worried about?

‘I need to be there to record your progress, but...you have a
point. We’ll do it together, but separate. Like we don’t know each other. I’ll
just shadow you. Watch.’

A streak of colour ran up her jaw. ‘Won’t that be weird?’

He pushed his glass away and leaned in closer. ‘Georgia, I’m
going to have a solution for any hurdle you put up. You’ve signed the contract.
How about working with me on this instead of against?’

She sighed. Stared at him with those unreadable eyes. ‘OK.
Sorry.’ She took a sip of white wine. ‘What did you have in mind?’

* * *

‘That’s
a long list.’ Georgia stretched and
read the upside-down sheet in front of Zander.

‘A year is a long time. But we don’t have to go with all of
these. Plus things might come up along the way so we need to leave room for
those. If you had to shortlist, which ones would you enjoy the most?’

He spun the paper around to her and passed her his fancy pen.
She asterisked Wimbledon, cooking classes—which she agreed to because he’d
indicated his listeners would love it, not because she actually wanted to know
the difference between flambé and sauté—cocktail-making class, truffle-making,
and a makeover. That last one because she got the sense he really thought it was
important. She tugged her sensible shirt down further over her sensible
trousers.

‘I really want to do this one.’ She circled one down near the
bottom, taking a risk. It wasn’t what he’d be expecting at all. And unlike some
of the others this one actually did interest and intrigue her.

‘Ice carving?’

‘How amazing would that be? Ooh, and this one...’ Another
asterisk.

‘Spy school?’

She lifted excited eyes. ‘Can you imagine?’

He shook his head. ‘I don’t need to imagine. I’m going to find
out.’

She sipped her wine.

‘What about travel?’ he asked.

‘What about it?’

‘Not interested in the thought of a holiday?’

Flying to a whole other country seemed a lot to ask. Besides,
she didn’t have a passport. Just the idea of applying for one got her blood
thrumming.

‘Where could I go?’ she breathed.

His smile was almost indulgent. If it weren’t also so confused.
Had he never met anyone whose gratification went so far beyond delayed it was
non-existent?

‘Anywhere you want,’ he said.

As she holidayed in her apartment as a rule, anything further
afield than Brighton just didn’t occur to her. ‘Where would be good for your
listeners?’

Zander shrugged. ‘New York? Ibiza?’

Her breath caught...
Ankara?
She’d
wanted to go to Turkey since seeing a documentary on its ancient history.

But no, that seemed too much. Fanciful. She wrote down
Ibiza
on the bottom of the list. That seemed like the
kind of place EROS listeners would like to hear about. The party capital of
Europe. Fast-pour bars and twenty-four-hour clubs and duelling dance arenas and
swollen feet and ringing ears.

Oh, yay.

‘I might add some things, as we go along. Things that occur to
me.’ Things she’d like to do but didn’t want Zander knowing about. Though of
course they wouldn’t stay secret for long.

‘That’s fine. Just hook them up with Casey. I’ll just go where
she sends me.’

‘That’s very accommodating of you. Compliance won’t do much for
your reputation as a fearsome boss,’ she said.

One eye twitched. ‘I’m not fearsome; I just want them to think
that I am.’

‘Why?’ That was no way to enjoy your work.

‘Because it gets things done. I’m not there to be their
friend.’

She thought of her own boss. A whacky, brilliant man whom she
absolutely adored. ‘You don’t think people would work just as hard with respect
and admiration as their motivation?’

He lifted his gaze. ‘I’d like to think they respect me. I just
don’t need them to like me.’

Or want them to? Something in his demeanour whispered that. But
there wasn’t much else she could say about that without offending him. Besides,
last time she checked he was the most successful person she knew. And she didn’t
know him at all.

Silence fell. ‘What do you do on your weekends?’ she finally
asked.

‘What?’

‘You said you had things to do on your weekend. What kinds of
things?’

He regarded her steadily. ‘Weekend stuff.’

She lifted both her eyebrows.

‘I train.’ He frowned.

Lord. Blood from a stone!
‘For...?’

‘For events.’

She took a stab. ‘Showjumping? Clay shooting? Oh!’ She drained
the last of her wine. ‘Ice dancing.’

A reluctant smile crept onto his face. ‘Endurance running. I
compete in marathons.’

‘Truly?’

He chuckled. ‘Yes.’

‘What sort of distances?’

‘Forty or fifty kilometres. It depends.’

‘A
weekend
?’ Her half-shriek drew
glances from around the noisy bar.

His lips twisted. ‘A day.’

A day!
‘Well, that explains the
body—’

Horror sucked the words back in, but not fast enough.
Oh, God!
She quietly pushed her nearly empty glass far
away from her.

‘I have to keep my fitness up, so I run every morning and I do
long runs or hikes every weekend.’

‘Every weekend?’

‘Pretty much.’

Wow. ‘Just running. For hours on end?’

‘Or hard hiking. That’s why it’s called endurance.’

‘Sounds lonely.’ But also kind of...zen. Kind of what she did
when she wandered deep into the dark heart of forests.

‘I don’t mind the solitude,’ he murmured.

‘Is that why you do it?’

His answer was fast. As if he’d defended himself on that point
often. ‘I do it for the challenge. Because I can. And I do my best thinking out
there.’

Fifty kilometres. That was a lot of thinking time.

‘Just...wow. I’m impressed.’

‘Don’t get too excited. In competition we can do that in under
four hours.’

Georgia shook her head. ‘Put marathon running on the list.’

He looked up sharply. ‘You want to run a marathon?’

‘God, no. I have two left feet. But I’ve never seen one. I can
just watch you. Help you train.’

Intense discomfort flooded his face.

Once again she’d managed to misread a man. This wasn’t a
friendship. They weren’t bonding. This was a business arrangement with the sole
purpose of tracking
her
activity. Why on earth would
he want her around during his private time? He probably had a raft of friends
actually of his choosing to hang out with—and many of them women.

‘I...uh...’

She’d stuffed up big enough to actually make a man stammer.
World class.

‘You know what?’ she breezed, not feeling the slightest bit
breezy. ‘I’ve changed my mind. Me watching you run would make
terrible
radio. Scratch that off the list.’ Was she a
convincing liar? They’d find out. His pen was still frozen over the page and so
there was nothing to scratch out, so she said the only other thing that came
into her head.

‘Another drink?’

* * *

The
list grew as long as the evening. They
hit the Internet for ideas of cool things for her to do in London. Pretty soon
they had learn-to-dance classes, movie premieres, and a royal polo match.

‘Aquasphering!’ she said, a little bit too loud. ‘Whatever that
is.’

‘Really? That’s your kind of thing?’

‘None of it is my thing—isn’t that the point? Pushing myself
out of my comfort zone.’
Wa-a-ay
out of it.

‘Can we afford a seat on a commercial spaceflight?’ she
blurted, tapping the tablet’s glossy screen. ‘That would be exciting.’

He smiled. ‘No. We can’t. And we don’t really have the time for
it to become more mainstream.’

‘Pff. You suck.’

Zander stared at her. Assessing. ‘I think I need to get some
food into you.’

‘I told you I didn’t do this for the soup.’

‘I was thinking of something a little more solid than
soup.’

Judgement stung, low and sharp. She sat up straighter. ‘I’m not
drunk.’

‘No, you’re not. But you will be if you keep going like
this.’

‘Maybe the new me drinks more often.’

He gathered up their papers and his tablet and returned them to
his briefcase. ‘Really? This is how you want to start the Year of Georgia? By
getting hammered?’

She stared at him. Thought about that. ‘Have we started?’

‘First day.’

‘Then we should leave.’ Because, no, she didn’t want to start
that way.

‘Let me feed you. I have somewhere in mind. We can walk. Clear
your head.’

‘Why isn’t your head fuzzy? You’ve been matching me drink for
drink.’

He shrugged. ‘Body mass?’

She relaxed back into the booth and smiled happily. ‘That’s so
unfair.’ Then she sat bolt upright again, her fingers reaching for her phone
before her mind was even engaged. ‘I should ring Dan. I need to explain.’

Zander caught her hand before it could do more than curl around
her phone. ‘No. Let’s not do that on an empty stomach. Let’s go get some
food.’

He was right. She needed to talk to Dan face to face, not over
the phone. She stood. ‘OK. What are we having?’