“Precocious child,” she teased. “I’m happy you’ve made up for lost ti…mmm.”
The rest of the word became a purr as he kissed it into oblivion. Mitch could make her forget every other sense she had except touch and taste. Her office disappeared in a slow swirl of sensation and anything else but this man and this kiss.
Several dazed minutes later, she surfaced and pulled back enough to breathe and to gaze into his face.
“Can I just move in here?” One corner of his mouth twitched as he spoke, and she kissed it.
“No. I’d never get any work done. And people would begin to suspect. Where would I hide you when I met with Dylan, for instance? You’re too big to stash behind a potted plant.”
“I’d have to go under your desk.” He waved a hand at it. “Just think what I can do under there.”
A slow flame kindled in her belly at the thought of it. An answering flame burned in his eyes-and the knowledge that if she so much as spoke the word, he’d crawl under there and do under it what he’d promised to do to her on top of it.
But before she could give in to temptation, a knock sounded on the door. “Eve?”
“Come on in, Dylan,” she called.
She seated herself safely behind her desk, while Mitch leaned on the wall and gazed out the window.
“Oh good, you’re both here.” Dylan looked from one to the other. “Dan Phillips wanted me to set up an informal dinner for the three of you. Would today suit?”
Dinner? Eve frowned at Dylan. Dan wasn’t a dinner kind of guy-informal or otherwise. And what had brought about this sudden burst of hospitality when he’d been so angry yesterday?
“What’s going on, Dylan?” He always knew the hallway gossip. In fact, she counted on him when she needed to get the word out about something discreetly, or when she needed some clandestine detective work done.
But this time, her assistant shrugged, his brown eyes full of honest regret. “I don’t know, boss. Word is he’s pretty upset about you turning down the big networks-” he glanced at Mitch “-in favor of a smaller one, but you probably already knew that.”
“That he told me,” she admitted.
“And I saw both Ms. Roussos and Mr. Everard in the lobby this morning, a couple of hours apart. They didn’t contact me to set up a meeting with you. So my guess is, they were meeting with Dan.”
“Why would they do that if they’re out of the running?” she wanted to know, turning to Mitch.
“They’re coming back with a counteroffer,” Mitch said flatly. “It’ll be either money or location.”
“Money won’t do it, so it’s probably location,” she said. “What do you think, an offer to let us stay in Atlanta?”
“Would you take it?” He answered her question with one of his own.
“At first glance, no. We already agreed that CWB was the smarter way to go. That we’d risk less if we built our audience slowly.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Mitch said simply. “I’m free for dinner, if you are.”
“This ought to be interesting.” She turned to Dylan. “Let Dan know we’ll meet him over at Scarlett’s at five. That’s as informal as you can get.”
“Will do.” Dylan closed the door discreetly behind him.
Eve got up and joined Mitch at the window. She could feel the heat of the day radiating through the shaded, dual-pane glass.
“Tell me again we won’t have to move if we go with CWB,” she said. “That’s not going to change.”
“No, it’s not,” he said quietly. “The team stays in Atlanta, no matter what.”
She nodded, and looked up at him. “This won’t be pretty.”
“Maybe not. But he wants to see us together. I’ll back you up.”
Outside of her team, it had been a long, long time since anyone had said anything like that to Eve. “Thanks. That means a lot to me.”
After a pause, he said softly, “You’ve been on your own a long time, haven’t you?”
Surprised at his perception, it took a second for her to shrug one shoulder in assent. “You get used to it.”
“You must have had a good foundation as a kid. To learn to make your own decisions and develop the kind of confidence you have.”
“My grandmother is responsible for that, I think. Being a teenager is never easy at the best of times, and when you lose your parents you feel like you’re drifting in space, mostly. I don’t remember junior high at all. Just vague images.”
“I have junior high blocked out, myself. Sounds like your grandmother did a good job-I’m sure that was a bad time for both of you. But they say a person’s character is formed by the time they’re five. So your folks get some of the credit.”
She glanced at him. “What brought this on? About my family?”
He shrugged and looked slightly embarrassed. “Just trying to figure you out. Learn what kind of influences made you the fascinating woman you are. And not just the TV host. The real woman.”
The truth was, she’d allowed him to learn more about her in the week he’d been in Atlanta than almost anyone outside of her small, tight circle of friends. What did that say about him? And if it came to that, what did it say about her that she was opening up to him? There had to be more going on here than a fling with a time limit.
And was she ready for something like that? To get into a relationship that brought both her sexuality and her maturity to the table?
That she’d never done before. She needed to stop asking herself these questions and make some decisions about herself.
“How long are you in town?” she asked suddenly.
“As long as I need to be. We still have to come to agreement on the terms of the contract, so I’ll be around for a few days yet.”
“Do you want to go somewhere with me on the weekend?”
“As long as it’s not to a baseball game, I’m your man.”
She grinned. “That’s right. You’re a hockey and soccer guy. Thank God. No, there’s been something I’ve wanted to do ever since I came back to Georgia and I’ve never had the time or the guts to do it.”
He looked confused. “The first I can understand, but not the second.”
“You’d be amazed. Good. That’s settled. Saturday, then.”
“Uh, aren’t you going to tell me what it is?”
She shook her head. “Not now. We have to go over to the deli to meet with Dan and it would take too long.”
She hustled him out the door before she lost her courage and told him to forget she’d mentioned it. But deep inside she knew that by asking him to do this with her, she’d committed herself.
To a trip into her past.
And maybe into her future.
DAN PHILLIPS WAS waiting when they arrived at Scarlett’s, looking as though he were afraid the spindly deli chairs would collapse and drop him on the tile. Maybe it wasn’t the best choice for a business meeting, but it was informal. It was also busy and noisy and, from what Mitch had learned, Eve’s turf. All the staff seemed to know her, and she’d hardly seated herself when someone called out from the back, “The usual, Eve?”
“Thanks,” she’d replied, and then he and Dan had had to play catch-up with the menus so their orders would all arrive at once.
He didn’t care. Food wasn’t high on his list of priorities on the best of days. But if Eve had meant to make Dan uncomfortable for this discussion-which he was sure she hadn’t because that wasn’t her style-she’d succeeded.
She didn’t waste any time getting down to brass tacks. “So, Dan, why don’t we get started? Dylan didn’t say what you wanted to talk about.”
Deliberately, Dan chewed and swallowed, then took a sip of his cola, taking back control of the conversation. After working with Nelson Berg, Mitch knew all the signs.
“I wanted to talk to you and our rep from CWB together, since that seemed fair, about what’s best for the show,” he began. “I’m not convinced that we’re on the right track.”
“In what way?” Mitch asked. “I’ll do whatever I can to assure you CWB is the best choice.”