Conflict of Interest - By Allyson Lindt Page 0,16
took a moment before she moved it to make more notes. “If you show up in blue polyester, I’m quitting.”
He was surprised she hadn’t walked out the door that morning, and he was taking it as a good sign. “It’s black. I’m not a formal-affair virgin.”
Her flush grew, but she didn’t rise to the bait. “Right. What else?”
He didn’t want to be having this conversation. Time for a new one. “Why did you do it?” He left the question intentionally vague. He rested his elbows on his knees, still studying her.
She tore her attention from her phone, staring back in confusion. “Do…?”
“Saturday. I see you in there almost every weekend, always alone, and I assume you’ve seen me too since you knew which car was mine. What made you approach me this one time?”
The pink flushing her cheeks darkened, but she didn’t look away. “Not that I know what you’re talking about, but if I did, it was only because I needed a place to sit.”
Ouch, that stung. “Right, that wasn’t you because of conflict of interest. So this other woman, who you’re intimately acquainted with and I’d like to be, didn’t just pick an empty slice of wall to lean against like she normally does because…”
Her lips drew into a thin line. “This conversation is counterproductive.”
It was completely productive if it distracted her from telling him how to dress—and maybe helped him figure out how to get her undressed. “I disagree.”
“Which is why you hired me instead of doing your own publicity.”
He wouldn’t be deterred, but he also knew better than to tell her that wasn’t exactly why he’d hired her. “You—sorry, she—was just looking for a little conversation that morning?”
Her eyes narrowed and she blew a strand of hair off her forehead. “Will you drop this if I tell you?”
Headway, perfect. “Maybe. If I think you’re telling the truth and not just making something up to get rid of me.”
She clenched her teeth, hesitating.
He didn’t interrupt.
“Fine.” She exhaled. “I had something to prove.”
That was interesting. “To whom?”
She paused again. “Myself.”
She wasn’t telling him everything. Interesting. “Did it work?”
Her brow furrowed, and she chewed her bottom lip.
He wanted to be doing that.
She twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “It might have worked better if … no, you know what? It worked fantastically. I found out what I needed to know. Yup, it’s all good. What else is on your calendar in the next few weeks?”
The way she had set her phone aside and leaned forward, bringing her face closer to his, told him she wasn’t shutting him out. He was close to something. “Soon, I promise. I’m still curious about this proving something to yourself idea. What, exactly?”
Her breath hitched, and she licked her lips, eyes pulling away from his. “You said you’d drop it.”
“There were conditions.” He dropped onto the blanket, sitting cross-legged across from her, keeping less than an inch between her knees and his. “But I won’t push it if you don’t want to talk about it. My schedule, then?”
She still wouldn’t look at him, and the corner of her mouth twitched with something he couldn’t identify. Her voice was soft when she finally replied. “I had an argument with my sister that morning. She called me a lot of names, I probably called her some back, and you seemed like a good way to prove her wrong.”
He leaned forward, intrigued. “It’s not often a woman admits to using me.” It wasn’t an unfamiliar concept, they just usually didn’t outright tell him that’s what they were doing.
She ducked her head. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He traced a finger over her knee, her heat seeping through the texture of her stockings. “Do I get more details than that?”
She finally looked at him, indecision dancing behind her eyes. A smile pushed away some of her embarrassment. “I suppose I owe you that much. Funny, given the things we talked about that day, how this one little admission embarrasses me.”
He abandoned thoughts of trying to work. The casual flow of the conversation had his blood racing. He let his gaze linger on her moist lips, sharp memories of how she tasted taunting him.
“She called me frigid,” Kenzie finally blurted out. “I’d seen you in there so many times before and yeah, okay, you’re attractive, I admit it. So I struck up a conversation with you to prove I wasn’t uptight.”
He was used to people complimenting if they wanted a favor, but something about the fact the words had come