After cleaning and then cleaning some more, I admitted to myself I was procrastinating about applying for the CFO job. I’d already made up my mind. Just needed to do it, especially since I couldn’t shake the thought of Jeff getting the position. I brought up the posting on my laptop. Finally deciding I didn’t have any choice but to apply if I wanted to protect my team and continue working for Maddox Consulting, I went ahead and filled out the application, attaching my résumé. At least the formality was out of the way. But I needed to speak with George on Monday to make him aware of my application. I could only hope he hadn’t made the decision already. More importantly, I hoped he’d be understanding of my inability to fly for travel.
At three o’clock my cell phone rang with a number I didn’t recognize. I almost let it go to voicemail, but at the last minute, I realized it could be Brexy.
When I greeted hello and his sexy British accent hit me, I grinned.
“Hello, Peyton.”
“Hi, Simon.”
“How did you know it was me?”
I could hear the humor in his voice sparking mine. “I’m not sure how many British guys you think I meet on a daily basis in a Coppell, Texas, grocery store, but the numbers are in the single digits.”
He chuckled. “Lucky for me. I was hoping you’ve recovered from last night and may be free for dinner this evening?”
“I am, as a matter of fact.”
“Would it be terribly rude to ask you to pick the restaurant? I have my own vehicle now, so I can pick you up at your house if that’s acceptable.”
His formal tone had me smiling. Normally, I met a first date at the restaurant for fear of being trapped if it wasn’t working out, but something told me I wouldn’t have that issue with Simon. “I don’t mind picking the restaurant. How do you feel about barbeque?”
“Sounds good. Is seven o’clock agreeable?”
“Sure. I’ll text you my address.”
“Brilliant. See you then.”
Yeah. Brilliant. He’d called.
***
By the time the clock turned seven, I’d let Cooper out one last time to do his business. It was good I’d done so because the knock came at my front door right on schedule. Immediately upon meeting Simon, I’d figured he’d be the punctual type.
As I opened the door, I realized he was even more handsome than I remembered. This time he was dressed in slacks and a long sleeved, button-down shirt, dark blue in color that set off his eyes. Tailored looked damn fine on the man.
“Hi,” I breathed, happy I’d taken the extra effort to put on a dress tonight and tame my brown curly tresses into some semblance of style, leaving it long and down my back.
Capping off his perfection was the fact he immediately dropped his hand to pet Cooper who’d come up, curious about our guest. Simon once again seemed oblivious to the amount of hair he’d get on his clothes for the effort. “Hi to the both of you. How was your night making cookies with your nieces?”
“A bit like a three-ring circus, but well worth the effort. They’re good girls. Come in while I grab my purse.”
He stepped inside and glanced around my living room. “You have a lovely home. Very colorful.”
His observation was an understatement as I loved color. But a decorator I was not. Instead, I simply picked things which made me happy. This was why I had a country type table with Japanese art on the wall and a modern light above it all. And my sofa was covered with bright pillows. I might not ever travel the world, but it was represented in my home.
“Thank you. I made a reservation. It’s about a ten-minute drive.”
He offered his arm. “Excellent. Lead the way.”
I loved the way he opened the passenger-side door of his black Mercedes first, but couldn’t keep myself from smiling when he got into the driver’s seat and turned on the wipers while trying to find the lights.
“Sorry. It’s been a bit since I’ve driven an American car.”
“So long as you stay on the right side of the road, I won’t judge.”
He hit me with a smirk. “Here’s hoping.”
Finding a barbeque restaurant in my town was not hard to do. However, finding the kind where one might feel comfortable on a first date—that is, where one didn’t eat off a picnic table or suck on ribs—was a bit more challenging. Something told me Simon wasn’t exactly the get-a-T-shirt-for-eating-a-full-rack-under-five-minutes kind of guy. And the last thing I wanted myself was to have to eat something messy with my hands while Brexy watched.
So, I’d chosen a steakhouse which served great barbeque and was a little upscale. We’d engaged in small talk along the way there, but mainly he’d concentrated on the road. Watching him drive had been a treat. The man was sexy as hell while controlling the sleek black Mercedes.
After the valet opened my door and I got out of the car, I noticed Simon’s hand rested on the small of my back as we walked into the restaurant. I liked it. A lot. I also enjoyed that while I stood over five foot eight when in heels, he was still taller, clearing at least six feet.
I smiled when we stepped into the entry, and the owner greeted me by name. Ernie was a large man with a heart to match. When Jen and I had lost our parents years ago, he’d dropped off meals at the house for months afterward. He’d ensured we knew he was only a phone call away if we’d needed him. Hell, half the town had done the same, rallying behind us like family during the darkest time of our lives.
“Hello, Peyton, my dear. How lovely to see you.”
I loved his deep Southern accent. “How’ve you been, Ernie?”
“Good, good. Your sister and Kevin were here last night. Said you were babysitting the girls.”
“Yes, I was. It was a lot of fun.”
Ernie’s gaze fell to my date, and I quickly introduced him. “Ernie, this is Simon. Simon, this is Ernie. He owns the best restaurant in town.” It wasn’t an exaggeration, with the beautiful wooden floors, gorgeous, stained-glass windows, and intimate tables. It was quintessential old-school charm meets down-home food.
Simon took his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Let me get you two a good table.” Ernie motioned for the hostess and pointed to a window view in the corner.
We took our seats, and I noticed Simon’s amused look. “What?”
“Does everyone know you here in town?”
I let out a small sigh. “Pretty much. Aside from growing up here, I have a sister who is very active at the schools, and my brother-in-law manages the bank two streets over.”
“Does your sigh mean you’re not a fan of small-town living?”
“Most of the time it’s great. You’ve never seen a town rally around their own the way this one does. Then other times it’s embarrassing, such as when the checkout woman tells a stranger that you’re quite single ‘cause everyone knows it.”
He chuckled at my reference to Laverne.
We were interrupted when the waitress came over to take our drink orders and handed us menus. Although I didn’t mind sharing my thoughts about this town and how good they’d been to me, on a first date I wasn’t ready to have the heavy conversation about the loss of my parents.
I watched as he carefully folded his napkin in his lap and straightened his silverware, setting it perfectly in line. I doubted he even noticed he did it, but the action had me smiling. Of all men in the universe to meet, one who preferred things neat, tidy and orderly was not what I would have expected.
CHAPTER FOUR
Simon
Although I’d remembered Peyton being funny as hell and pretty yesterday, she’d been something else entirely when she’d opened the door tonight in her sexy black dress, her makeup done, and her hair down and soft. I’d stared dumbstruck at the beautiful creature in front of me. If it hadn’t been for Cooper coming up, I would’ve had to fight for verbal ability.
“So, tell me, what type of business brings you to Coppell, Texas, of all places?” she asked after we were seated in the restaurant and ou
r drinks had arrived.
“I evaluate companies for investment opportunities.” Most women I’d been out with would have changed the subject here. But unsurprisingly, she wasn’t like them. As if the soft, Southern lilt to her voice wasn’t enough to differentiate herself.
“In other words, you buy them?”
“Sometimes. It depends on if it fits with what my boss wants and, more importantly, if it’ll be profitable.”
“And there’s one in this small town worth investing in?”
“No. My dinner engagement was local, though.” It occurred to me she might know George if I mentioned his name, and since the possible purchase was confidential, I couldn’t give her that kind of detail. Thankfully, she was astute enough to realize why I was being vague.
“And I’m assuming you can’t tell me who you had dinner with because which company you might be purchasing is not public knowledge yet?”
“Exactly. Matter of fact, it’s about fifty-fifty it’ll happen at this point. We have to do the evaluation and audit in order to decide.”
“I take it you’re not staying at the Stagecoach Inn or Holiday Inn Express in town?”
I found her question funny considering my threat to my assistant. To be honest, I could care less where I stayed so long as the Wi-Fi was solid, and the coffee was hot, but Emma did not share the sentiment. And Tom, my boss’s accountant, would throw a tantrum. In fact, he could spin anything up into a tizzy. Nothing but the best hotels for that tosser. I considered having to work with the owner’s nephew the only drawback to my job.
“No. I’m at the Four Seasons in Irving. If I stay past the initial audit, I’ll move into temporary housing. It’s nicer to have a kitchen when on location more than a couple of weeks.”
“That’s a nice hotel. Great shopping, although something tells me you work too much to care about what there is to do downtown.”
“What gave me away?”
She shrugged. “Business travel normally requires a lot of work hours. Which is why I was surprised to hear from you.”
I was somewhat taken aback, but then I realized I actually had cancelled on plenty of people over the years due to my work. “I figured it’s the least I could do after you rescued my bottle of champagne from Laverne.”
A mischievous smile touched her lips. “Ah, well, it’s my signature move for getting dates. Laverne is actually my wingman.”
I chuckled. “I can see that, given all of her charisma. So, I’m curious. Why is it that you’re quite single? By choice?”
Her brow arched, annoyance flickering in her amber colored eyes. “As opposed to maybe I just can’t seem to hold a man?”
I knew my face was heating and quickly amended. “That was rude.” It was, but the one thing I’d learned in dealing with people over the years was that everyone had a story. I suddenly wanted to know Peyton’s. Albeit perhaps in a more delicate fashion.
Thankfully, I was saved from shoving more of my foot into my mouth when the waitress returned and took our orders. Once she left, I tried to smooth things over.
“I didn’t mean to cause offense.”
Peyton waved me off. “It’s okay. Believe me when I say I’m too laid back to take offense. I really think taking my meds for angry mood swings and promising not to go off in a rage because my date orders murdered cow for dinner may be a new tactic I employ for hanging onto a man more long-term.”
I almost spit out the beer I’d been sipping only to see the amusement dancing in her eyes. “Jesus. I deserved that.”
She laughed. “You totally did.”
Her humor was completely contagious, and my laughter joined in hers. “I was simply sitting here thinking how is it possible a woman as beautiful and funny as you are isn’t in a relationship. But I realize that sounds like a horrible snap judgment which assumes that’s what you’d want.”
“I won’t disagree. I think it’s ironic that when a man is single at thirty it’s assumed he’s not ready to settle down yet. But if a woman is single, then clearly it’s not from lack of trying to change that status.”
I’d never thought about it quite that way, but she made a good point. “Stereotypes which men like me are perpetuating with questions such as the one I asked you.”
Again, her brilliant smile confirmed she was sincere when she’d said my question hadn’t bothered her. “I think when people get wrapped up in timing dictating their life, there’s a risk of settling. Two days before calling someone, three dates before sleeping with someone, two years before an expected engagement, married before thirty, two-point five kids before thirty-two, and so on.”
“Very true.” I didn’t subscribe to the pressure of doing things simply because others thought I should. Never had.
“I say if you want to call someone right away or sleep with someone on the first date, who cares?” Her eyes got big, and she turned a delightful shade of pink. “I didn’t—I was talking generally, not putting it out there that I was planning to, um—”
I couldn’t help it; I started laughing. She was adorable. “You have made your point. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone like you.” I wasn’t kidding. She seemed carefree and uninhibited about what she wanted from life or, more specifically, what she didn’t.
“Maybe you need to get out of the city more often.”
“I obviously do. You’re correct in that I put a lot of time into the job, which doesn’t allow meeting a lot of new people.”
“So you don’t date a woman in every new town you travel to?”
Although she was teasing me, I wanted to ensure she knew I didn’t. “Not at all. Matter of fact, if it wasn’t for meeting you yesterday, I’d most likely be in my hotel room ordering room service or at the gym right now.”
“Would people call you a workaholic?”
“Absolutely.”
She studied me for a moment, smoothing over her initial frown. “Do you love your job?”
“I don’t think love is the word. But I’m good at it, and I enjoy certain aspects, such as travel. I have a bit of wanderlust. How about you?”
She sipped her beer. “I’m the opposite. Very content to stay in my comfort zone and home state. But I do work long hours. I don’t love my job, but I love the people I work with, so I keep doing it.”
“What happens with Cooper while you’re at work?”
“Dog walker comes in around midday. If I’m too late, my brother-in-law will go by to feed him, but those nights are rare. I try to maintain a healthy work/life balance.”
“And if work is your life? Asking for a friend.”
She laughed, obviously knowing I wasn’t. “Then I’d say your friend needs to find that thing outside of work he can’t wait to get home to.”
“And what’s yours?” I truly was curious, never having looked forward to anything but my job.
“My family. My dog. Friends. Gardening. Cooking, eating, and running in that order because then repeat.”
“What is it you do for work?”
“Hold onto your seat. I work in—” She made a show of looking to her right and left as if she was about to reveal she was a spy. Then she whispered across the table, “Accounting.”
I laughed out loud. “And it’s a secret because?”
“Because if people heard, they’d realize how truly boring I am. I wish I was more adventurous, but most days I crunch numbers, and usually I like it.”
I didn’t believe she was boring in the slightest. “And you indicated you enjoy the people you work with?”
“For the most part, but there’s always one asshole.”
Didn’t I know it. “Yes, there is. Tell me about yours, and I’ll share mine.” I was curious what constituted an arsehole in her mind.
“Okay. He’s a colleague but treats me as though I work for him. He’s never in the office and belittles his people if it suits him. Wasted space, really. If he gets the promotion we’re both applying for, I’d be reporting to him, which means I’d have to quit.�
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“Are you more qualified for the position?”
“Definitely.”
I appreciated her confidence. “Then you should get the job. But if you don’t, it’s normally a sign they don’t value you, and you should move on.”
“That’s a good way of putting it. Now, how about your asshole?”
“Ah. The owner’s nephew. Lazy arse who sometimes likes to fancy himself in charge. I enjoy reminding him he’s not.”
She laughed. “Gotta love nepotism in the workplace. So, enough about work. Tell me, how long have you lived in the States?”
“Over ten years now. I went to university in New York, then stayed.”
We continued to trade questions and stories throughout the meal.
As I studied her over the rim of my glass, I realized she couldn’t be more my opposite, nor was she like anyone in my world. It was nice, for a change, to meet someone who wasn’t obsessed with their career or its trajectory. She seemed to be more interested in life questions and actually getting to know me.
I took my last swallow of beer and realized I didn’t want this evening to end. Normally, I found the more I got to know a woman, the less I was interested. Call it the thrill of the chase or the realization that expectations were greater than reality. But with Peyton, this wasn’t turning out to be the case. So far, the fascination from yesterday was growing stronger. She was anything but boring and, even more surprising, made me forget about my job. I hadn’t checked my phone once during the date.
Perhaps I was already addressing my lack of work/life balance simply by being in her company. Although this week would be crazy, I hoped she might be available this next weekend, so I put it out there.
“The next few days will be quite busy for me with work, and depending how it goes, there could be late nights.”
She looked amused. “Either you’re making an excuse as to why I won’t ever hear from you after tonight, or you’re telling me not to take it personally if we can’t get together until next weekend.”
Without Apology (Without Series Book 1) Page 3