4
Jack McLachlan
Daniel messages me when he is pulling up to the front of The Ashford Hotel, so I leave our table in the hotel restaurant to meet her. When I walk out of the hotel to greet my American girl, Daniel is circling around to open her door, but I stop him. “I have it, Daniel. Thank you.”
After opening her door, she steps out onto the sidewalk. She’s wearing a satiny floral one-shouldered dress belted at the waist and mile-high heels that stretch her legs even longer than they already are. She’s beautiful and I ache to reach out my hand to touch the exposed skin on her shoulder.
She looks up at the hotel and then back to me. “Seriously? You brought me to a hotel?”
Her face tells me she’s pissed off, but it’s easy to see why she might jump to conclusions. “The meeting with my sales team was in the hotel’s conference room. I thought we might have dinner at Ash. It’s the hotel restaurant. I’m told it’s the best in town.”
Her cheeks pink. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t give it another thought.”
She takes my offered arm. “You’re not from Wagga Wagga?”
“No.” That’s all I give her and she doesn’t push further.
I allow her to walk ahead of me through the revolving door into the lobby. “Are you staying in this hotel?”
“No. I’m staying at an estate in the country.”
“Oh.”
I escort her toward the back of the restaurant to our table. I pull out her chair and slide it under her when she sits. “Are you hungry?”
She smiles and I find myself wanting to know all the secrets she hides behind it. “Very. I’m not one of those girls who’s scared to eat in front of a date. I hope you don’t mind that.”
“Not at all.”
She’s quiet as she reads the wine list and our server arrives to take our drink order. “I’ll have a Sauvignon Blanc.”
She lifts her eyes from the list. “I have no idea how to order wine. I’ll have what you’re having.”
“Two Sauvignon Blancs.”
She holds the menu in front of her and I can’t see her face. She’s studying it like there could be an exam later. “I don’t know what I want. Everything looks good.”
“My business associate recommended anything seafood.”
A moment later she places the menu on the table. “Seafood sounds good. I’ll have the stuffed prawns.”
After the server brings the wine and takes our order, we continue our safe, generic conversation. “How did your friend’s vintages fare last night?”
“Ben did well, but I never expected anything less. Wine is his family’s business.”
I remember the waitress mentioning that. I believe she said he was from California. “I understand that. You’re much more passionate about it when it’s your livelihood.”
“You say that like you know from experience.” She’s a sharp one.
“I do. I’m employed in the wine-making business as well.” It’s a half-truth since I neglect to tell her I own a large number of the wineries across South Australia and New Zealand.
She smiles and I see her make the connection. “So that’s why you were at the vintage dinner last night?”
“Yes. My employer donates money to the wine program, so he is given an automatic invitation to the event. I was sent in his place as a representative.”
We talk about nothing in particular and I feel the mood of our conversation shift when we finish eating. “I’ve spent the last hour having dinner with you and you still haven’t told me your name. Maybe it’s an Australian thing, but where I come from, that is one of the first things you tell someone. Is there a reason you haven’t told me?”
I’m interested in picking her brain, hearing her possible explanation. “Why do you think that could be?”
She studies my face and for the first time I notice her unusual eye color. I thought they were brown, but now I see I was only half-right. They’re lighter, more like caramel than chocolate. And her hair isn’t a single shade of brown; it’s full of honey-colored streaks.
Her back stiffens. “I think you’re married with a wife and two-point-five kids waiting for you to come home.”
I almost forget her question, I’m so caught up in watching the windows to her soul. I see something there, but I can’t put my finger on what it is.
I hold up my empty left hand and point to where a wedding band would be if I had one. I smile because the thought of me being married is such a polar opposite from the truth. “No wife. No two-point-five kids.”
She sits back in her chair and doesn’t appear as though she’s buying what I’m selling. “The lack of a wedding band doesn’t prove anything.”
“I am secretive, but it has nothing to do with being married.”
Our server returns to remove our dishes and we fall silent until he walks away. “Why are you secretive?”
“For lack of a better answer, it’s just how I am.”
She frowns. “Well, that explains everything.”
These are dangerous waters I’m treading. This girl is different from the others. If I don’t handle her the right way, she’ll run. Of this, I’m certain. “You and I will both be in Wagga Wagga for the next three months. I’d really like to see you while we’re here.”
“Would I finally get to know your name?” She’s laughing but has no idea that withholding real names is my number-one stipulation for dating.
Hell! She’s got me off my game and feeling like I’ve never done this before.
I draw a breath to clear my head before I begin. “My life is complicated for reasons I won’t discuss. When it comes to dating, I need it to be simple and undemanding. Disclosing my identity complicates things, so you wouldn’t know my real name.”
“You’re not joking.”
I can’t read her reaction. I have no idea if she’s on board or freaking out. “When the three months is over, so are we. I’ll move on and you will too. Because you won’t know my name or any identifying information about me, you’ll have no way to contact me. Ever.”
This face I can read, and it’s full of confusion. “But why?”
I have reasons, but I won’t explain them. “Because that’s the way I need things to be.”
She’s clearly pissed off as evidenced by the scowl on her face. “If you never wanted to hear from me again, that wouldn’t be a problem on my end, Jack.”
I smile because she has no idea she just used my real name. “You’d have the same courtesy. You don’t have to tell me your real name and you choose how much or how little you want to tell me about yourself.”
She puts her elbows on the table and leans forward. “You’re crazy as hell, but you already know that, right?”
I feel her slipping through my fingers, so I’m forced to use my last line of defense. “I’m a very wealthy man. The three months we spend together would be the best of your life. You’d never be able to top what you’d experience with me.”
She sits back and laughs. “Well, at least you’re not egotistical.”
I wasn’t finished. I had one more card up my sleeve. “I’d make your fantasies a reality.”
She licks her lips and then draws the bottom one into her mouth. God, I’d love to do that for her. “You want me to have sex with you.”
Now she’s catching on. “Yes, I would like that very much.”
“Sounds like you need an escort or a prostitute, and I’m neither of those things.”
Oh, shit. I’ve f*cked up royally now.
I reach for her hand to calm her. “I wasn’t suggesting you were either. Sex wouldn’t be the only part of our relationship. There would be much more to it than that.”
She jerks her hand away. “I don’t sleep with strangers and apparently that’s what you’d continue to be since you won’t even tell me something as basic as your name.”
I pull my hand back. “You have a very reasonable argument, but it wouldn’t be like that. We would come to know each other in our own way.”
“To hell with this shit. I’m outta here.” She pushes away from the table. “Please call your driver and ask him to take me home.”
Way to go, Jack. Way to go.
I pull my phone from my pocket and call Daniel. “Front of the hotel, now.”
I watch her face as she stares off, refusing to look at me. I regret we didn’t have more time together. I wish I could take it all back and handle it differently.
“He’ll only be a minute. Please, allow me to walk you out.” She doesn’t agree or object as I stand to walk her toward the exit.
The car is at the curb as we move through the revolving doors. I open the back passenger door for her and her caramel eyes meet mine before she gets inside. “Have a nice life, whoever you are.”
Wow, that’s final.
She climbs in and I stand, my hand on the door, waiting to shut it. I don’t want to let her go like this. I fight the urge to get into the backseat with her but I know it’s useless. I’ve insulted her, and she’s made it clear she wouldn’t accept my proposition. But dammit, I don’t want this to be the last time I see her, so I stop arguing with myself and get into the car.
She regards me with narrowed, suspicious eyes. “What are you doing?”
I close the door. “I’m riding with you.”
She scoots as far from me as possible. “My answer is no, so what’s the point?”
Great question. “I don’t know.”
We ride in uncomfortable silence as Daniel drives us to where she is staying. I rack my brain trying to think of an alternate approach, but come up short.
After the car stops, Daniel opens the door and she gets out. I follow, walking by her side toward the apartment’s entrance, and I can’t fight the urge to make another plea. “Please, think it over and reconsider my offer.”
She stops dead in her tracks. “You arrogant jackass! You rode with me so you could try to talk me into going along with this crazy-ass idea of yours.”
I’m not sure why I feel like I have the right to touch her or why I think she’d let me, but I reach out and place my finger over her lips. “Shh. Don’t say no again right now. Wait until you’ve had time to think about it. This is a new idea, and you might find you feel different about it once you’ve thought it over.”
I trail my thumb to her bottom lip and rub it as I remember the way she sucked it. If you say yes, you’d spend the next three months having the time of your life.”
I take my hand from her face. “I’ll be in the hotel restaurant tomorrow night at eight o’clock if you decide you want to discuss it further.”