“Hey, call me whatever you want. I’m used to it.”
“Then we might as well get started with part two, and I’ll have to wing it.”
“You’re the pro. I’m sure you can handle it.”
“Fine. We’ll get started tomorrow.”
“Fine.”
He wasn’t going to enjoy this. Why couldn’t everyone just leave him alone and let him do his job? Why wasn’t his performance on the field ever enough?
SIX
SAVANNAH HAD MADE ARRANGEMENTS FOR THEM TO meet the next night around seven. She told him to dress decently, because they were going out to dinner.
He had no idea if they were going to meet with some PR people or not, but he wore a pair of black slacks and a button-down shirt, figuring he should be ready for anything.
He picked her up at her place. She opened the door, taking his breath away with her simple summer dress—strapless, to show off her shoulders. It hit her just above the knee, too, and she wore heels, accentuating her sexy, beautiful legs. He was stunned at all the available skin she showed.
It was going to be a long night.
She smiled. “Hi. You look nice.”
“Thanks. You do, too.”
He focused on her legs as he led her to his car and helped her in.
“So where are we going?” he asked as he started the car.
She gave him the name of a downtown restaurant.
“Fancy.”
“Yes,” was her only reply.
“Are we meeting someone there?”
“No. Just the two of us.”
He frowned. “Is there something I should know?”
“I’m winging it, remember?”
“Okay. Wing away.”
When they got to the restaurant, he pulled up to the curb and gave the keys to the valet, then led Savannah inside.
Sure he was about to be blindsided by some marketing or PR gurus, or even worse, the media, he was surprised when they were taken to a quiet table in the corner of the dark restaurant.
Near the windows, the restaurant gave a great view of the St. Louis arch and the riverfront.
“Nice place for tourists,” he said.
“I chose it because the food is great, and so is the extensive wine list. You like steak, I assume.”
“You assume right.”
When the waiter brought the wine list and laid it on the table, Savannah picked it up.
“Would you like to go over the wine list with me? We could make a selection together.”
Cole arched a brow. “I’m not much of a wine guy.”
She nodded. “I can teach you. Wines are fascinating.”
He shrugged. “What if I’m not all that interested?”
“It would probably help if you learned at least a little bit about wine. That way, if you take a woman out who does like wine, you can make suggestions, or even order for her.”
“Is this a date?”
Her lips lifted. “No. But if it were, and I were your date, it’s possible we could be selecting wine from this list.”
“No. If it was a date, we wouldn’t be at this restaurant.”
“Really? Why not?”
He shifted to face her. “Not my kind of place.”
“Really. And what kind of place is your kind of place to take a woman on a date? The club you took me to?”
“What’s wrong with the club?”
“Other than your groupies hanging all over you, your bartender-slash-waitress friends acting like bodyguards to make sure no woman gets within a mile of you, no quiet time for talking and getting to know each other via conversation, and the fact that the media knows it’s a place you hang out and party so they’re more likely to be there to take your picture, there’s nothing wrong with it.”
“So we’re here tonight to do what, exactly?”
“I’m showing you how a normal date with a woman goes.”
He laughed. “Seriously? You think I don’t know how to treat a woman?”
“At the moment I have my doubts.” She leaned in and showed him the wine list. “I’d suggest the sauvignon blanc or the cabernet. They have some lovely brands here. If you’d like, I’d be happy to talk about them with you.”
He pulled the wine list from her and set it on the other side of the table. “I can’t believe you brought me out here tonight to teach me how to take a girl on a date.”
“Woman. Anyone over the age of eighteen is a woman, not a girl.”
“Whatever.”
“See, the fact that you can’t discern the difference indicates your need for coaching.”
The muscles in his jaw tightened. “This has nothing to do with my image.”
“I disagree. The way you treat women has everything to do with your image.”
The waiter came over. “Good evening. I’m Richard and I’ll be your waiter tonight. Have you had a chance to peruse the wine list?”
Cole handed the wine list back to Savannah. “I’ll have Patron Silver, straight up. Make it a double. The lady would like to choose her own wine.”
The waiter nodded, obviously too polite to indicate whether Cole had made some fatal social mistake by ordering his own drink and deferring to Savannah to order wine.