The Reality of You (12 page)

And just about fell
on my ass.

Instead, I found the
first thing to stay upright. I stood—more like leaned—against the wall, hugging
the towel paper dispenser like a lifeline until it started creaking. Afraid it
might come off the wall, I pushed away from the dispenser and almost tumbled
into the toilet, nearly giving
myself
a swirly. Luckily, I caught the small counter. Holding on to the edge with one
hand, I shimmied the purse down my arm. With a deep breath, I let go of the
counter and held the bag in front of me so the weight of it wouldn’t topple me
over, carefully laid my coat over the bag, and snatched my phone from the
counter.

I scooted and
tiptoed to the door and down the hallway, using the wall for support.

The second I moved
out of the hallway and its close walls, the boots had me tripping and bashing
into the host stand.

Menus flew
everywhere.

After jumping back,
the hostess gawked at me. “Are you okay?”

Nope. While I
teetered against the podium, the old guy sitting at the bar and the people at a
table in the corner stared at me. Great, Reese could walk in at any moment and
witness more clumsiness. A beep came from the phone in my hand. Glancing at
Reese’s message about being late, I let out a chuckle.

“I’m actually
great,” I replied, still desperately hanging on to her podium.

Chapter 13

Although
around the other side of the bar, I would be able to see the door. Once I let go
of the podium, I planted my butt on the nearest stool. Any more of my walking
in Gracie’s boots could destroy the place—and me too. Like broken-bones type of
destruction.

Berbunk served small
plates of Thai food, but its unusual drink list drew more people than its small
plates. With a mix of modern and Asian décor, the bar was dark and slightly
exotic, and only five blocks from work, it also cut the distance to my subway
station in half.

Chiming music played
above in the almost empty bar. I used the wait time to deliver myself a pep
talk, which mostly consisted of telling myself to not act like an ass, not let
Reese take the upper hand, and get this over with as soon as possible before he
drew me into the orbit of his hotness.

After several
minutes, the bartender finally came over to me. I ordered a draft beer then
sipped it and continued my internal pep talk.
 

“You have a
preference for eccentric establishments, Ms. Porter?” Reese’s voice asked,
breaking me from my inner monologue.
 

Turning on my stool,
I drank
him
in. It seemed like I was
at lunch on my bench, just much closer. Black suit. Dark gray tie. Dark brown
hair with a hint of red. High cheekbones. Perfect straight nose. Full lips.
Lovely hazel eyes. Wide shoulders. Tapered waist. Such a beautiful man. Inner
huge sigh. I was such a stupid woman.

He quirked a winged
brow at me.

I collected my wits
and zoned in on his words. “I suppose I do.” My gaze turned pointed. “I’d hoped
we were over the
Ms.
thing.”

He hung his long,
wool coat on the hook on the wall at the end of the bar. “I kind of like Ms.
Porter.”

“So you don’t like
Naomi?”

“I do,” he said from
behind me. Far too close, as if he were leaning in near my ear. Then he sat in
the stool next to me. “I’m saving it.”

My lips thinned in
confusion. “What does that mean?”

Before he could
answer, the bartender came over—much faster than he had for me. Reese ordered a
scotch and bottled water.

“You know we’re not
in
Asia
, right?” I asked as the
bartender moved a ladder to get to the top shelf stuff.

Reese gave me a
questioning look.

“The tap water won’t
hurt you.”

He grinned slightly.
“Very refreshing.”

“Bottled water?”

“Your sarcasm.”

A light snort
escaped me. “Really?”

His expression
turned serious. “You’d be amazed at the female robots I’ve dated.”

My mouth hung open
for several long seconds. I snapped it shut. O-kay. What the hell was that
reference about?
He wants to date you!
Fangirl screamed. I shut her up and shut her down.

Though I probably wouldn’t
be amazed at the robots in his past, I asked the first sarcastic thing that
popped into my head. “What about the male ones?”

His mouth curved in
a slow smirk as the bartender set his drinks down. “Male robots have never
interested me, but I’ve lost interest in the female robots too.”

Aw! See! I told you!
Fangirl shrieked, rising past the lid
I’d put on her. I reached for my beer and took a hefty gulp. I had to be
reading his remarks wrong—so wrong that I refused to contemplate how it would
feel if I were right. After slowly putting my glass down on the dark, wooden
bar, I faced Reese, who stared intently at me.

“What is so
important that we
had
to meet?”

He lifted his glass,
his eyes warm over the rim. “Perhaps I simply wanted to converse.”

As he took a sip of
the amber liquid, both Fangirl and normal me went nuts. I had to force myself
to concentrate on the irritation his statement generated. “Then why didn’t you
just ask me to meet for a drink? You basically threatened me into coming,” I
said in a low tone, thinking he was a sneaky bastard.

“Would you have come
otherwise?”

“Probably not.”

He set his scotch
down and turned on his stool to face me fully. “Why not?”

Too close! He sat
too close. I was going to melt from all the hotness inches away.

“Well…” I said,
trying to form a coherent thought. This entire ‘meeting’ proved beyond
confusing. “Ah…things didn’t go exactly well in Puerto Rico.” I’d nearly killed
him and he’d acted like a total dick. So we were kind of even.

He adjusted his tie.
“That was different. That was work. Unless you’re worried about not being able
to work for me in the future.”

Like I’d ever want
to work with him again—yet I did work for him in a roundabout way—since he was
an asshole. A hot one, but still an asshole.

On that note, I
said, “No, I don’t plan on working with you in the future. You’re a bit too
demanding for me.”

His lids lowered.
“Too demanding?”

“At least at work,”
I squeaked under the spell of those warm eyes.

He smiled, slow and
sensual. “I can be demanding in other places too.”

Whoa. Wow. Whoa.
Between his gaze and his words, I
imagined jumping on his lap and experiencing some of that. “Ah…I should get
going,” I said because I was about to make an ass of myself and jump in his
lap.

“So you’re busy this
evening?”

While I stared at
him again in openmouthed dismay, Fangirl screamed, shouted, and fanned her
face.

Reese leaned closer
to me, like lips-six-inches close. “I’d like to take you to dinner.” He grinned
slowly. Damn, I loved that grin. “Hopefully nothing will set your nerves or the
table on fire.”

Ugh, like I needed
to be reminded of all my snafus on our trip, but the promise of his tone, which
whispered things far better than even food, had me quickly forgetting all the
ways I’d made an ass of myself in Puerto Rico. The world spun in a different
direction and everything turned upside down. There was no mistaking the
intention in his stare. It was as if my imagination had come true. I couldn’t.
I shouldn’t.

Instead, I mumbled,
“I’m not doing…” Oh, crap. I was doing something, and besides that, I shouldn’t
let my hormones control me.

Reese’s head cocked
at my obvious confused expression.

“I’m busy,” I said
suddenly, sullenly wishing I’d be busy in entirely different way.
Stop it, Naomi!

“Too busy for me?”
Reese said in a challenging tone.

The question was
beyond egotistical, even though I had to agree. What woman in her right mind
wouldn’t move mountains to be with him? Kara would kill me though. My
conscience would kill me after the sting of his rejection that last night in
Puerto Rico.

“I… It’s
championship night for my pool league.”

“Where?” he asked in
an absent tone, reaching for his scotch.

“Um, Harvey’s Pool
Hall.”

“Ah, and you presume
to win.”

“Highly likely.
We’re in first place.”

He took a sip of the
amber liquid. “Who is we?”

“My roommate and I.”

“Your roommate,” he
said so flatly that I raised a brow. He gave me a close-lipped smile as he
drummed his fingers on the bar top. “What time does this tournament begin?”

“Ah…seven.”

After contemplating
my confused expression, he glanced at his watch. “It’s twenty to seven.”

“Damn,” I said and
tried to gesture the bartender over. “Kara is going to kill me.”

“I could give you a
ride,” Reese said.

I paused waving at
the bartender. “What? A ride?”

“You’d be on time.”

Past images of Reese
and me in the back of a limo instantly came to mind, only this time I could
imagine his lips on mine, his tongue doing delicious things in my mouth. I had
to get away from him. Like now.

“Thanks, but I don’t
want to inconvenience you.” I dug through my purse, tugged out a ten-dollar
bill, and tossed it on the bar.

“It wouldn’t be an
inconvenience.” He plucked my ten-dollar bill off the counter and dropped it in
my bag.
 

I frowned. Why the
hell was he making this difficult? “Really, I’ll grab a cab.” I jumped off the
stool and almost fell on my ass. Shit. I’d forgotten about Gracie’s ridiculous
boots.

As I teetered, Reese
stood up too. “Really, let me take you.”

Using the stool for
support to stand, I shook my head. I needed to get away from him and process
the last half hour for
several
hours.

Ignoring me, he
threw a fifty on the bar top and reached around me for his coat. When he
wrapped his hand around my upper arm, the stability he offered was too necessary
to reject.

“Shall we?” he asked
after helping me get in my coat.

Smiling weakly, I
nodded.

He maneuvered us out
of the bar, and within seconds, a limo pulled up to the curb. My pulse started
beating erratically as Reese opened the door. How many times had I imagined
this? Countless. With a hand holding my elbow, Reese helped me into the limo.
Inside, I nearly hyperventilated. I scooted to the far side of the cushy
leather seat. Aware that my response was completely idiotic, I couldn’t shake
the overwhelming burst of awe inside my chest at being in his limo with him.

Reese settled in
next to me and I held my breath. Once he told the driver where to go, the glass
went up, and we were alone. His suit-encased shoulder and thigh were mere
inches from me.

He turned to me, his
gaze roaming over my statue-like form. “Nervous again, Ms. Porter?”

“No.” I instantly
forced my body to relax. Well, at least a bit.

“Then is tomorrow
evening available for a late dinner?”

Holy hell. Fangirl
nearly fainted. He
was
asking me out.
I’d known it—I wasn’t
that
dense—but
the second invitation securely cemented the unbelievable. I raised a shaky
finger. “Give me a few minutes to digest the last half hour.”

The ass had the
audacity to appear pleased.

Drawing in a breath,
I glanced out the window and watched the passing scenery, forcing myself to
think. First, did I want to go out with him? Yes. No! Never. Oh, hell yes. I’d
been watching him for seven months. Of course I wanted to, but should I?

I should not.

My thoughts went to
Kara and her position in this tangled mess. Though Reese and I hadn’t crossed
paths at work yet, the chance of running in to each other was still possible. I
would have to be very, very careful.

Was I seriously
contemplating this?

Confused, I turned
around. “I’m actually busy tomorrow.” Jules was throwing me some crazy birthday
party—her idea, not mine.

His eyes narrowed.

“But Saturday is
open,” I squeaked under his observation.

He shook his head.

“Sunday?”

“Busy.”

What the hell was he
doing on a Saturday and Sunday night? Did he have other dates? My
contemplations had me worried in more ways than one. Mostly about why I was
questioning it.

“Um…how about I cook
you dinner Monday night?” Oh hell, where the heck had that come from? I didn’t
cook. I constructed dips. In shock, I was blabbering, and somehow I’d been the
one to ask him on a date.

His eyes de-narrowed
and he nodded. “I’m available Monday.”

Shit. What had I
gotten myself into? Would it be that bad to cancel in a text come Monday? I
could
cancel. I definitely
should
cancel. Maybe I should cancel
now.

The limo stopped.

Reese helped me out,
and when he continued helping me move toward the door, I gave him a questioning
look.

His hand tightened
around my elbow. “Thought I’d have a drink, observe a bit, and meet your
roommate,” he said nonchalantly.

Great. With him as a
spectator—and my head spinning—we would come in
last
place.