“Truthfully, I didn’t know if I was paying or if Reggie was paying,” I said with a smile. “They don’t pay assistants all that much, you know. The price of this meal is what my monthly grocery bill costs.”
“Ouch,” was his reply, but it was said good-naturedly. The waiter approached and Paul ordered two coffees and two chocolate-chip cookies. I was trying to think of a way to broach the subject of Frank without seeming like I was trying to pry, when Paul offered the perfect opening.
“He’s a character, isn’t he?”
“Reggie?” I asked.
“Frank. Hell, Frank and Reggie together.”
“What do you mean? Does it bother you?”
“Them being gay? Not at all. I just mean you never know with Frank. He’s a cool customer. Keeps his cards close, and then all of a sudden, he does something like help me with my script. Really, though, he’s doing it as a favor to my father. They’ve been friends for years.”
“I still don’t know how Frank and Reggie met.”
“Reggie’s sister had some kind of event, maybe a charity event, at her house...”
“I didn’t realize Reggie had a sister.” My lips quirked as I tried to envision a feminine version of Reggie.
“Well, according to Frank, she’s some kind of money manager...what do you call that...a financial planner, and he’s one of her newer clients, so he went to the event. She introduced them and that was that.”
Wasn’t that interesting. Why would he go to a charity event? Why would a...possible killer go to a charity event? What was he really doing? No way would I believe that Frank was doing anything charitable, which opened the door to many more questions, none of which likely had good answers. Ultimate creepiness. Poor Reggie! How could I let him know his partner was dangerous? He wouldn’t believe me if I did try to tell him. He’d likely fire me...
“He’s changed Reggie. For the better, I mean. Reggie seems happier. He has the ability to relax more, which he was not able to do before, and we all suffered for it.” I covered my silence with a weak smile, only to realize Paul had taken my words the wrong way.
“So the work environment is better for you if he’s getting laid regularly?”
“That’s one way to put it.” I flushed, realizing that we were starting to cross a line here. Paul wasn’t my pal. He was a client. And he wasn’t a full client yet. He hadn’t signed a contract or anything. “I apologize. I don’t mean to imply that Reggie needs anything. He’s got a solid reputation because he works so hard.”
“Don’t worry, Taylor.” Paul took my hand in a loose clasp on the table, his expression light, flirtatious. “I know what you meant.”
His touch didn’t move me in the least. He had large, warm hands, but somehow they were too soft. They didn’t feel quite right holding mine. I could still remember Ryder’s big, roughly calloused hands touching me, which was wrong. Totally wrong. Ryder was a great big user and manipulator. I would convince myself of this. Soon.
“So what did you mean about Frank and Reggie? I don’t know Frank at all. This was my first time meeting him.”
“I’ve known him for about ten years now. He’s changed teams a few times, if you know what I mean. I wouldn’t share that with Reggie, though.”
“You mean he’s had girlfriends?”
“Yeah. His last partner, at least, was female. Interesting woman. Frank brought her to dinner at my father’s house a few times. Not sure what happened to her. She seems to have gone underground. Linda something. She owned an investment firm. Somehow inherited after her husband died. Something like that.”
Paul took a sip of water from his glass on the table. “Maybe her company became a casualty of the financial meltdown, because it did go bankrupt, as I remember. Anyway, just before that happened, Frank stopped seeing her.” He shook his head with a cynical smirk. “She broke his heart. Started seeing another guy with more money. Something like that. Anyway, I’m glad to see him happy. He’s a good guy.”
The waiter returned and Paul dropped my hand to fix his coffee. Resisting the urge to wipe my palm on my dress—his hand had felt a little clammy to me—I put some cream and sugar in mine and took a sip, meeting his gaze over the rim of my cup.
“So Reggie isn’t Frank’s first guy?”
“I don’t think so. I was younger at the time and less savvy, but he may have brought a guy over he was into. But—” he gave me his charming smile, his eyes creasing at the corners as he looked over my face softly, “—I don’t feel like talking about Frank right now.”
“I know it’s none of my business. I just find people so interesting.” I gave Paul a small shrug, as if to show I couldn’t help being curious, hoping it didn’t seem strange that I was asking so many questions.
“I want to talk about you going out with me for dinner or drinks.” He was trying to hold my gaze, but I looked down at my cookie and broke a piece off as I thought about the best way to refuse.
“Paul...”
“Don’t say no.” His voice came out gently. Again, I immediately recognized that his voice wasn’t as deep or gravelly as Ryder’s and wanted to kick myself, or Ryder.
“We’re going to have a working relationship, not a romantic one.”
“That’s not a good reason. I’ll go with another company and ask you out again.”
“I am not part of the deal,” I said firmly. “You need to decide what you’re going to do, and regardless, I’m not going out with you.”
“Is there a guy in your life?” His expression turned shrewd.
“Sort of. I mean not really. Maybe.” Just my fumbling made me want to bury my head in my arms on the table and probably delivered a more truthful message to Paul than my actual words. Instead, I put the piece of cookie back down with a sigh and wiped the crumbs off my fingers. “I met someone a few days ago, but I don’t know what’s happening with him just yet.”
“All right. I can accept that.” Paul nodded. Then he became all business. “So let’s talk about when the meeting should take place.”
“Oh. Okay.” It was an abrupt change in subject, and I wasn’t sure if he was the type to pout and be passive-aggressive (because I’ve experienced this before when a guy doesn’t have his feelings returned) or if he was just trying to get back to business.
I pulled my smartphone out and hit the app for Calendar. I keep track of all of Reggie’s appointments along with corresponding phone numbers for “just in case” moments when something goes haywire. I like being prepared.
“What’s good for you?” I asked. I could feel his eyes on me, analyzing me.
“Anything. I’m not on the clock anymore.”
“What about Thursday at 2:00 p.m.? We can meet in the boardroom.”
“Works for me. You have a pen I can borrow?”
I dug one out of my purse and handed it to him. He wrote the information down on a napkin, which he then folded and stuck in his wallet. I began quickly thumb-typing the information, the time and the date. When I asked him for his number, he gave me a slow grin while reciting it, which probably usually had a killer effect on female hearts and maybe would have on mine even a week ago.
I emailed the information to myself, so I would remember to put it on Reggie’s calendar.
“I’ll give you a reminder call, if you’d like.” I looked over at him. He was still watching me admiringly. To cover my discomfort, I took a sip of coffee, not knowing what to do now that I’d told him I wasn’t interested.
“I’d appreciate that. I wouldn’t want to miss the meeting.”
“All right then. We’re set.” I put my phone away.
“Are you going to leave me now?”
“I think it’s best, Paul.”
“I know, I know. I hope we can become friends?”
“Absolutely.” Business, phone-only friends.