Page 13 of Unforgiven in Cheshire Bay
“No point in delaying that part, so no, the invoice looked great. You mentioned how you had three ideas for the murals and wanted to get together?”
Opening up a spreadsheet, I marked his invoice as paid.
“I thought I would email you the ideas, if you’d like, and you can look them over and give me the okay or tell me to start over. Once I get approval on what you’d like, then I can draw up the contract with the costs.”
The phone became muffled as he spoke, likely talking to a staff member. “Sorry about that. Are you okay if we meet in person to discuss? It’s a little hard to go back and forth over email.”
“I agree.” Which was what I wanted anyhow but didn’t want to seem overeager. “Sure. I can pop over tomorrow, around 10:30?”
“That won’t work. Are you free tomorrow evening?”
“Let me check.” I hopped off the couch and over to the schedule on the side of the fridge where Francesca penciled in her work shifts. I checked tomorrow’s date, and she was off; she’d be able to keep an eye on Vera after I tucked her into bed. “I am free. Should I come by after the supper rush, like around 8:30?”
“How about I pick you up and take you someplace nice?”
I swallowed and choked out the words, “Like a date?”
A good-natured laugh rang through the speaker. “Sure, if you’d like.” There was such confidence in his voice, as if he was a women magnet and just the mere prospect of meeting with him would spark the interest of the woman.
“Well, I, um.” Rational words blew through my brain like a hurricane. I wanted to say no, but I didn’t want to turn down what could also be a huge infusion of funds.
“If the idea of me picking you up doesn’t work, and I’ll be honest, I’m not offended, let’s meet at the Harbour Chophouse?” He offered before I could make my lips form a proper word.
The Harbour Chophouse was a steak place, anexpensivesteak place. However, it could be a business expense, and a write-off at the end of the year, if I could manage to float the money for it until then.
Somehow, my head took control and nodded.
“Erin, are you still there?”
Thinking fast, I blurted out, “Yes. Sorry, bad connection.”
“Whew. So tomorrow, Chophouse, seven-thirty?”
I’d be a fool to say no, so I did the only acceptable thing I could do. I agreed.
Chapter Five
Francesca’s voice pierced the air. “He invited you to the Chophouse?”
“Yeah. It’s no biggie.”
But I was brushing the whole idea off or trying to. To me, it was a business meeting. He was going to drop big money on a project, and he wanted to make sure we were both getting all the details right.
“His place is a family restaurant, nothing wrong with meeting there. When you go on a date, you go to the Chophouse.” Francesca spun around my room, landing on my bed. “And you. Are not. Wearing that.”
“What’s wrong with this?” Capris and a top, standard Erin wear, and standard business date attire. “I could wear my overalls and tank top.”
“I wouldn’t let you leave the houseon a freaking datewearing those ratty clothes.” Francesca leaned back on my bed and tossed her hands into the air.
“It’s not a date, that’s where you’re wrong.”
She rolled into a sitting position. “Oh, but it is.”
Firm in my stance, I placed one foot forward and crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m not trying to score a date with this guy. It’s totally business related. Adam does this kind of thing all the time.”
“Yeah? And look where that got him. He’s now dating his event coordinator.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Fair point, but…” Where was I going to go with this? “My point is I’m not looking for a long-term relationship, hell, I’m not even looking for a date. I’m not interested, especially in him.”