“I wouldn’t know about my dad, but yeah, I guess my mom is.”
I sensed more to the story there with his parents, but it also seemed like he didn’t want to talk about it. “It must be exciting,” I said instead.
He shrugged. “It can be. What about you? Parents still around?”
I nodded. “Yes. Mom and Dad don’t live far, so I get to visit often.” I didn’t mention the town and hoped Ryker wouldn’t ask.
“Where?” he asked, dashing my hopes.
“Um, Lake Forest.” I took another big bite of salad.
Ryker’s eyebrows went up, as I’d known they would. Everyone knew “rich people” lived in Lake Forest, which was why I hated telling people I was from there. It made them assume things about me, some of which were true and some of which weren’t.
“Your dad retired, too?” Ryker asked.
“Um, kinda,” I said, keeping my gaze fixed on my lettuce. “He owns some delivery companies for products in Chicago.”
“So you’re a poor little rich girl?” Ryker teased.
My gaze shot up to his. “I never said I was a poor little anything,” I replied stiffly. “And I’m not wealthy; my parents are. I work to pay my bills like everyone else.”
“Take it easy, sweetheart,” Ryker said, the corner of his mouth tipping upward. “I didn’t mean to ruffle your feathers.” He paused before adding in a slightly roughened tone, “Though that sounds like a good plan for later.” His gaze slid down to where I’d undone the buttons on my shirt and my skin burned as though he’d touched me.
Had he just implied we’d be having sex tonight? Was ruffling feathers a euphemism I’d just not heard before? I nearly choked on the cherry tomato I’d popped in my mouth.
Just then, my cell rang. Without even looking, I knew who it was going to be, and it didn’t occur to me not to answer. I gulped down the pulpy tomato that was so not room temperature.
“Excuse me,” I muttered, digging in my purse and finding my phone. “Hello?”
“Sage,” Parker said, “the files for the Lawson account have arrived. They need to be stamped and logged.”
“I know,” I said. “I signed the boxes in earlier today.” All six of them. “I was planning on doing them tomorrow.”
“It can’t wait,” he said. “Tomorrow I’m meeting all day with GoTech and I’ll need you in there with me. This has to be done tonight.”
Shit. I glanced at my watch. It was after seven. Those boxes would take me at least an hour each, if not more.
“Um, okay. I’ll be in as soon as I can.”
“Good.” He hung up.
I sighed as I slipped my phone back into my purse. So much for my date…or any other activity Ryker might’ve planned for later this evening. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I didn’t usually sleep around, but then again, I’d never before been propositioned by a man like Ryker. Speaking of which, when I looked up, he was watching me closely.
“I’m sorry,” I apologized, “but I have to go back in to work.” I slipped my purse strap over my shoulder and took another hit of wine.
“Why?”
“There’s some stuff that needs to get done and I won’t have time to do it tomorrow,” I explained, not bothering to go into detail. “But thanks so much for dinner.” Half my mind was already on its way back to the office, where Parker would be waiting.
I was up and out of the booth when Ryker seemed to realize I was actually leaving, and he jumped up. Grabbing my arm to stop me, he said, “Wait, you’re leaving? Just like that?”
“I’m really sorry,” I said again.
“He really has you on some kind of leash,” Ryker said.
My mouth dropped open in shock. “Excuse me?” I couldn’t believe he’d just insulted me like that. “Did you just imply I was a dog?”
“No, I’m implying Parker’s a fucking slave driver,” he retorted. “Stay just a little longer.”
“I can’t,” I said, shaking my head. I started tugging my arm, trying to free myself from his grip. Parker was waiting and so were those boxes.
“At least give me your number,” Ryker said.
I rolled my eyes. I was done with this game. “Listen,” I said, “despite what you might think, I’m not looking for a hit-it-and-quit-it kind of man. Dinner was nice. The ride on your bike was fun. And I’m sure you…ruffling my feathers…would be amazing.” No doubt an understatement, that last