Page 12 of Missed Communication
Opening my texting app, I shoot off a quick message to Jamie.
Running late. Should be there in five.
After tucking my phone back in my purse, I powerwalk toward the exit. It’s freezing, the snowfall getting worse by the minute, and I’m underdressed. My blazer isn’t enough to keep me warm, so I’m glad I won’t have far to walk. Livy insists we won’t get snowed-in, but this looks a hell of a lot like we will if it keeps up. Wrapping my arms around my middle, I hustle to the restaurant, shaking off the flurries dusting my shoulders and hair as I step inside. It’s a cute Irish-themed pub, and a lot louder than I’d expect for a weekday lunch. My guess is other attendees are here too, and I’ll need to make sure Jamie and Ikeep things as professional as possible in case someone is within earshot.
The second I spot Jamie, I freeze. This should be an official meeting on the books, not a date, but fucking hell, he looks good enough to eat. Not flirting with him is going to be torture. He’s on his phone by the host stand, and as if he can sense my presence, his eyes find mine, making my belly swoop like it has all morning when he looks at me.
Jamie pockets his phone and stalks toward me with intent. I forget how to breathe until he reaches me. He’s entirely too handsome, even with his hair a little more mussed than it was yesterday at the bar, and his damn mustache has me in a chokehold. It isn’t bushy, like he trimmed it sometime in the past week. I instinctively reach for his cheek, swiping at his five-o’clock shadow, and my entire core tightens remembering how it felt against my thighs. He grips my wrist, pressing a soft kiss to my palm, and setting my whole body on fire.
Quickly pulling my hand back, I clear my throat. “This is probably a bad idea.”
“I promise I’ll behave.” With a wide smile, he winks, then guides me by the small of my back toward the host. “We’re ready. The reservation is under Wilson.”
The woman nods and retrieves two menus. “Right this way.”
She leads us to a small booth for two near the back. It’s much quieter here than by the bar, and I’m glad he’ll be seated across from me instead of beside me where I’d be tempted to do wicked things under the table. The sooner I can cut back on my hormone therapy, the better.
And here I was worried about him being the one keeping his hands to himself.
After we slide into the booth, our host passes us the menus and asks, “Can I get you two started with drinks before your server comes by?”
Jamie gestures for me to order first, and as I glance down at the drink menu, I’m bummed I can’t order a dirty martini or even a beer. I could really use something to take the edge off. “I’ll have an iced tea, unsweetened, and a water, please.”
“Same, but I’ll take a few sugar packets and lemon on the side.”
“Of course.” She nods and scurries away.
Once out of earshot, I admit, “You can order a beer or something if you want. Unless Daddy Isaac doesn’t let you drink on the job.”
He barks out a laugh. “No, he wouldn’t mind. I’m more of a whiskey guy myself, but since you can’t drink, I figure why not join in on the temporary sobriety out of solidarity. But can we unpack how you just called him Daddy Isaac?”
“I, uh…”
Fuck. Does he know that’s what Olivia calls Isaac? We keep our circle tight, and to my knowledge, the only one on Isaac’s team who is privy to their little hook-up at the inauguration is his head of security, Tim. Since January, Livy and Isaac have been insufferable.
All right, I’ll admit, they’re adorable and in love, no matter how much they deny there’s something going on. I’m just worried I may end up outing them if I’m not careful. To be safe, I stretch the truth, omitting key details. “Isaac, Olivia, and I went toschool together. They dated for a term during our undergrad, and he was a bit of a protector when it came to her.”
“Ah, yes, ‘barris,’” he muses, using air quotes.
“Yeah,” I sigh. “I’m just hoping that trend doesn’t resurface.” Needing to avoid further questions, I quickly change the subject. “Anyway, what’s good here?”
“There’s actually something I’ve been craving today.” Jamie opens the menu, flipping a few pages, then without glancing up adds, “You spread wide for me on this table.”
“Jamie,” I warn, keeping my voice low.
“What? You asked. Maybe it’s on their secret menu.”
I struggle to keep a straight face. “I’m serious. Should I go for a burger or a salad?”
“Something tells me you’re more of a steak girl.”
I peruse the menu for a moment and concede, “I do love a perfectly cooked medium wagyu, but mama is on a budget these days.” When he doesn’t clap back with the witty banter I’ve grown to adore since meeting him, I look up to find his brows furrowed. “What?”
“Did you think you were going to pay your way?”
“I don’t know. I figured one of us would be expensing this, and I don’t exactly want that to show up on a receipt. It’ll paint Livy as some sort of bougie politician when she’s anything but.”
His jaw tics. “Why would I expense a date?”
