by Lily Cahill
"Gina said you were a knockout, but--just wow."
Catie managed a half smile this time. She didn't know if it was the cologne, or the use of just a little too much hair gel, or just the line itself, but she wanted to roll her eyes. She stopped herself and straightened her back and squared her shoulders. She trusted Gina, so that meant she needed to give Nick a chance, not just write him off over one cheesy line.
"You're not too bad yourself." She hoped that sounded flirtatious. Nick grinned. He had a great smile.
She let herself take him in. He was strong. Gym strong. She could see the outline of his biceps through his sharp button-down shirt. He didn't have the easy movement of Everett, but who would? Who else had the kind of power and prestige that Everett did. Catie mentally shook herself. Why would she compare her date to her boss? Everett was her boss, and nothing more. That'd be like comparing a chocolate mousse to tamales--they belonged on totally different menus, so why waste time comparing? She could like them both for different reasons.
Nick carried himself like he was conscious of every muscle. He did have a full head of dark hair though. That was good. He didn't keep it loose and tousled like Everett, but it wasn't thinning. It might not have that soft, inviting look that practically begged to be pulled, but it was still good hair. He had a strong, square jaw, and when he smiled down at her, she could see the muscles work over it. That was sexy. The intensity of his jaw. She focused on that and tried to stop comparing him to her boss.
Just because she spent the majority of her week with Everett didn't mean he was the benchmark for her dating life. He was a billionaire who'd been on the cover of GQ, for Christ's sake. He was not the kind of guy you wanted to be comparing your dates to. Not if you ever wanted to get to a second date, that is.
Catie pushed Everett from her mind and smiled up at Nick, leaning in a bit closer. He leaned in too and slid a hand across the small of her back.
"Shall we?" Nick asked, then led her inside.
#
The dim light of the restaurant cast the tables in shadow. It seemed like all of the tables were for two, with couples secreted away in their own separate shadows, holding hands and breathing romance into the restaurant with every whisper and discreet touch. Catie was so consumed with looking around that she stumbled in her heels and knocked into the back of Nick.
"Sorry." She brushed herself off like she'd fallen on the ground, not into Nick's back. He took her arm and walked with her toward the very back of the restaurant, the light fading darker and darker. When they settled into their table, just candlelight between them, Catie had a hard time reading the menu. She tilted the menu toward the candle and ended up scuffing her bare arm against the exposed brick wall next to her. I am just the picture of grace. She placed the menu down, and rubbed her arm discreetly under the table.
"So, what's good here?" What Catie could read of the small menu seemed to feature new twists on the classic Sicilian dishes she'd eaten whenever Gina invited her over for dinner in grad school.
"Everything."
"You've had everything on the menu?" Catie said it offhand, and even she was a bit surprised at the bite in her voice. She pressed her lips together and tried for a smile in an attempt to take back the accusatory tone.
"Practically," Nick said easily. If he'd noticed her sharpness, he didn't show it. "I grew up with the chef. He's been making fancy food since we were ten."
Catie wasn't in touch with anyone she knew when she was ten that also wasn't a relative. Her family was so big, they ended up relying on each other. The longest friendship she had was with Gina, and they'd met in graduate school.
"That's really sweet that you're still friends." She looked up at Nick, who was staring at her.
"Well, you know, in a small town like New York, it's hard to avoid people." When he smiled at her, the corners of his eyes crinkled, and the imperfection was a nice change next to his starched shirt and gelled hair.
"We used to make fun of him," Nick continued. "We'd go camping, and he'd spend the entire time making the perfect campfire hotdog. He'd bring all these crazy condiments, but we never went without him. Because a charred dog was never quite the same after you'd tasted artisanal campsite cuisine." The side of his mouth twitched up before looking down at his menu. She had to admit, Nick was becoming more endearing by the second.
Catie felt his foot hit the tip of her toe under the table, and she pulled her legs back, tucking her feet underneath her chair and out of reach. Butterflies zipped around her stomach. This was why dating was the worst. She felt like she was forced to decide if she liked a complete stranger in the first minute. Should she have played footsie with him? That felt too intimate, and she didn't want to encourage him, but she also didn't want to discourage him. She thought there was a very good chance she could like him. If only she was given a little more time to get to know him.
"Gina said you're from Florida?"
Catie smiled, letting herself think of warm breezes and loud family meals for a moment. "South Florida," she said, one finger held up in the air. "There's a big difference. My grandparents are Colombian, but I grew up in a Cuban neighborhood, so I sometimes feel more a mutt than anything."
Nick nodded. "I know a good Cuban restaurant in Brooklyn, if you ever miss the food from home."
"Havana? I'm there like once a week."
Nick laughed. "So I see we both appreciate good food." He paused and looked at Catie. "I'm glad Gina bugged you so much to go on this date."
Catie wasn't sure what to say to that, so she settled for a wide, genuine smile.
When the appetizers came, Nick lifted a fork full of calamari across the table, and Catie had no choice but to open her mouth and let herself be fed. She fought a surge of annoyance. God, she needed to just relax. Wasn't it supposed to be romantic to be fed? As she internally berated herself, the calamari hit her taste buds and melted onto her tongue. Her eyes went wide as she savored the flavor.
"Oh my God. That was amazing."
"I know." Nick had another forkful of lightly battered rings, and this time Catie leaned forward and let him slide the bite into her mouth.
Catie was truly enjoying herself by the time the main courses arrived. That was exact moment her phone started vibrating on the table.
Vvvvvvv, vvvvvvvv. Catie hit the red decline button, sending her boss to voicemail while smiling apologetically at Nick. It was after nine. On a Friday night. Just because Everett Bowen was the head of the most promising alternative energy company in the country did not mean that Catie had to be on demand every second of every goddamned day. She tugged uncomfortably at the tight, low-cut dress Gina had talked her into wearing, trying to cover up some of her overly abundant cleavage.
Catie blinked, refocussing on the man in front of her. She leaned forward, trying to get back to their conversation. What was he just saying? She felt his foot reach across the table again, and this time she let it graze against hers.
Vvvvvvv, vvvvvvvv. Catie's phone lit up again--the light obscenely bright in the dimly lit restaurant. It was Everett again.
"I'm so sorry, but I have to take this." She scooted her chair back, and the legs screamed against the floor, announcing to the whole restaurant that Catie was stepping out on a date to take a call from her boss. But he wouldn't call twice if it wasn't important. She shimmied as quickly as she could manage in the too-tight dress out the front door.
#
"What?" Catie answered the phone, her voice short and clipped.
"I need you to come over."
"Are you insane?" Catie paced back and forth in front of the restaurant windows. She smiled thinly when a couple passersby glanced her way.
"Never been diagnosed."
"Well, I think you need a second opinion. And I'm busy."
"Get un-busy, and get over here," Everett answered back. He really did sound stressed. Catie sighed loudly and let him continue. "I'm trying to write my speech for the unveiling, and I have writer's block. I need
someone to bounce ideas off of."
Catie dropped her head back, looking up at the skyscrapers. She'd lived in New York for the better part of a decade and still wasn't used to how small the city made her feel.
"Can't you bounce ideas off of someone else?" She was giving in. She knew it, but she wasn't quite ready to admit it out loud.
"No. No one else gives me the perspective you do." His voice had dipped to something lower, something soft and pleading.
Catie paused. She wasn't any good at saying no. Especially not with Everett sounding so desperate. Why couldn't he just give her one night off? One night of her own time without feeling like she was letting down one of the most promising visionary minds of the day. Maybe she wasn't the reason she couldn't find a decent man in one of the best dating cities in the country. Maybe it was all Everett's fault. Gina was always telling her that she shouldn't be so hard on herself. Maybe she could just be that hard on Everett instead.
"It's settled," he said suddenly, his voice losing all softness. "Put the cab on the corporate card."
"Everett!" Catie yelled into the phone, trying to argue, but it was too late. He'd hung up. That was one of his tricks. Talk quickly and decisively and don't leave room for people to disagree with you.
Catie glanced inside, where Nick was no doubt waiting for her to come back so they could dig back into their amazing main course. She mourned over the salmon and pasta that she wouldn't eat and the making out she wouldn't do. Then she rushed back inside to explain the situation to Nick.
He frowned and rubbed at the back of his neck.
"And emergency? Like, a lawyer emergency?"
"I'm so sorry, Nick. I was having such a good time, and I hate doing this to you."
Nick nodded. "I was too."
Catie reached out impulsively and grabbed his hand. "Let's do this again, then. Try for a proper date that I won't bail on in the middle."
"Yeah?" Nick squeezed Catie's hand back. "I could bring you lunch. Something low-pressure, if you're busy. Havana does a mean Cubano."
Catie smiled just as her phone started buzzing in her jacket pocket again. Dammit, Everett. "That sounds great, Nick. It's a date ... another date, I mean."
Then she apologized again, grabbed her purse, and hailed a cab.
Chapter Four
Everett
Everett stretched his arms overhead, his muscles tight. How long had he been sitting at his laptop, staring at a nearly-blank screen? And where the hell was Catalina? He'd called her nearly ten minutes ago. Surely a cab ride uptown didn't take this long.
He pushed away from his kitchen table and stood, pacing from one end of his airy, open-concept penthouse to the other. He was supposed to be writing his speech for the official launch, but he was stuck on the line where he mentioned Liam, his brother. Everett and Liam had started dreaming up a tangible, affordable alternative to giant solar panels when they were in their first year at Yale. Years of work, millions of dollars, an entire company revolved around this central idea: That Bowen Enterprises could produce the energy of the future.
All this effort, and they'd know in a matter of weeks if it was all worth it. The anticipation was burning a hole through Everett's chest. This product launch had to go perfectly. Absolutely perfectly.
Objectively, Everett knew he and his team had done everything humanly possible to make sure the launch went off without a hitch. But emotionally .... Everett slammed a hand against the exposed brick wall and pushed away, resuming the pacing. Emotionally, he was a wreck.
Liam should be here, he thought for the millionth time. Everett had put a good face on his brother's departure from the company, but he missed him every day. And now, with the launch they'd worked so damned hard on nearly here, he wanted his brother by his side. It was an acute ache inside of him, a hollow feel of something missing.
Catalina was missing. Where was she?
Everett stalked back to his kitchen table and leaned over to stare at the computer screen. He'd written just a few lines of the speech ....
"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming today. The launch of Bowen Enterprises' H2 Solar Tiles has been a goal of mine since college. My brother Liam and I ...."
After that, the page was blank. He stared at the blinking cursor, waiting for the words to come. His mind was as blank as the page. He heard the scrape of a key in the lock and Catalina call his name.
"In the kitchen!" he called back, just as the right words popped into his head. His fingers flew over the keys.
My brother Liam and I shared a dream of reusable energy, clean energy. And it's because of the hard work and dedication of the team at Bowen Enterprises that we're here today.
A lucky charm, that's what Catalina was. She was barely through the door, and she'd already solved his writer's block. She focused him, gave him a drive and clarity that could get muddy when he was by himself. Hadn't Liam said that himself? He'd told Everett that he didn't need him there any more. He had Catalina.
"About damn--" Whatever he was about to say died in his throat.
Catalina appeared in the kitchen wearing the tightest dress he'd ever seen. His mouth dropped, but he was mindful to close it and compose himself so that he didn't look affected. The black material hit at her mid-thigh and hugged her body all the way up, curving over her hips and dipping back into her waist, then flaring back out to accommodate her chest. Catalina looked nice at work, but he'd never imagined this was what was hiding underneath those business suits.
"Where were you?" Everett asked, unable to keep the shock out of his voice.
"I can have a personal life. I think that's one thing I still have control over." Her voice was gravely and dangerous. Everett didn't dare reply. He got the distinct feeling that she would attack him no matter what he said, and he knew he couldn't win an argument against her. In all their time working together, he never had won an argument against Catalina Flores. That didn't necessarily keep him from ignoring her opinion and doing what he wanted anyway, but she was always right. She had an uncanny way of always being right. Damn lawyers.
He raised an eyebrow at her, waiting for her to get whatever was bothering her off her chest. A chest that was significantly more enticing than he'd ever thought before.
Catalina threw her hands in the air in exasperation. "Or, at least I thought I still had control over it. Should I only schedule my dates on nights when you have one? That won't be hard, with how often you go out, but it would just be good to know, so I can plan accordingly."
She was so worked up, her cheeks were burning red. With the way she was talking to him, Everett couldn't help the image that flashed in his mind. Catalina over his lap. Him making her other set of cheeks burn red too. He leaned back against the kitchen counter, trying to play it cool. From this distance, it wasn't so obvious that he was looking at her breasts and her thighs. Watching her legs disappear into the bottom of that tight skirt and picturing in full detail just where they led.
"Do you have a problem with my dating life?" he ventured. He made a show of sauntering over to the liquor cabinet and pouring himself two fingers of whiskey. He walked past her into the living room and settled himself on the couch.
"No ...," she stammered, following him. "Maybe we shouldn't talk about our personal lives."
"Fine by me. I always prefer to keep it professional."
She scoffed. Okay, they both knew that was a lie. He did sleep with the interns. That wasn't strictly professional, but he was the boss, and it was no concern of hers who he slept with. "Since we're keeping it professional. You should change."
He definitely needed her to change.
"Into what? You called me on a Friday night. In the middle of a date like your apartment was on fire, I might add." Her voice was high, but Everett could tell she was having a hard time holding on to her anger. She was repeating herself now, petering out, but Everett suddenly wasn't so ready to let it go. He liked the way anger tinged the air, creating an electric current between them. He shoul
d stop it. There was no room for him to think about his right-hand-man like this, but he didn't want to stop it. He wanted to push her.
"Yes. I can see that. Date Night Catalina dresses a whole lot differently than Work Life Catalina."
"I never go by Catalina in my personal life. You're the only one who calls me that. I think I would instantly go into business mode if someone called me that outside of the office."
"Ugh. I told you how I feel about that. You are not a Catie. Catie is a million interchangeable girls with no personality. And I just can't call you that. You're not a Catie." They'd been over this before. Why anyone would rather go by Catie than Catalina boggled his mind and made him unreasonably angry.
Catalina crossed her hands over her chest and let out a deep huff. Her arms like that, her breasts were pushed even more prominently toward him. He looked into her eyes, knowing that if he let himself look at her chest that he wouldn't be able to stop staring.
"So are we going to work on your speech or what?"
The speech. Right. That was why she was here. Late night work partner. Work partner. Just like every other time she'd come over to help him out of a slump. But he was having a hard time thinking about work. That dress was making his mind go to places it should stay far, far away from. In his mind, every waist-high surface had Catalina bent over it.
"Fine." Her mouth was set in a fine, straight line.
He left the room, adjusted himself, and came back with sweatpants and a cotton T-shirt that he threw in Catalina's direction.
"Put these on."
"You're seriously making me change?"
"If you're comfortable, fine. Stay dressed like that." That was a bluff. She could absolutely not stay dressed like that. Catalina looked down at herself with the sweats in hand and then back up at Everett.
She rolled her eyes to the ceiling and huffed again before stomping off to the bathroom.
Everett felt muscles he hadn't known he'd clenched relax as he breathed a sigh of relief. She'd change and then they could get to work. He still desperately needed help on his speech, and they'd wasted too much time arguing already.