Don't Stop Believing

Lacey

Lacey

I woke up at sunrise on Saturday morning and went for a jog. It was the best stress release I knew of, and the morning was fresh and crisp. On weekends, no one was out at this time, and I had the road to myself. My feet beat out a tattoo on the road, and the rhythm was soothing.

By the time I got back home, the rest of the world was waking up. I glanced at the clock above my television. It was too early to phone Hanson. I needed to speak to him before our charity ball tonight. But it would have to wait.

I got into the shower, cleaned myself up, and dried my hair before I tried phoning him. When he answered, he sounded groggy.

“Did I wake you?” I asked.

“It’s fine,” he said.

“Did you find a suit?”

He groaned. “I have a contact. She’s got one ready for me. I’m picking it up at lunch. Relax your panties.”

I rolled my eyes. Hanson Bell had made over a billion dollars from playing football and he didn't even have a suit. Why was I not surprised?

“Just be ready at six, okay?”

“Yeah, you said,” he answered.

I was about to hang up when Hanson said my name. “Lacey?”

“Yeah?” I asked, pressing the phone back to my ear.

“Let’s go out to dinner before the event.”

I hesitated before I answered.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

I walked to the kitchen and turned on my coffee machine. I needed a pick me up if I was going to have to deal with Hanson today.

“It’s not like a date or anything,” he said. “You said we had to discuss the event before we go. We both have to eat. Why not combine it?”

I swallowed. “It’s strictly business.”

“Of course,” Hanson said. “I wouldn’t dream of anything else.”

Yeah, right. Hanson would dream of exactly one thing and one thing only, if I had sized him up correctly.

“Meet me at Zuma,” he said. “I’ll send you a car.”

“I’m sure I can find it,” I said.

Zuma was one of top Japanese restaurants in Miami. Of course, for someone like Hanson, going to places like Zuma or KYU or the White Room was right in his price class.

“I’m sending you a car,” he insisted. “It will be easier to go together that way.”

I had to agree. I never like to be carted around by a man, and certainly didn’t want to be right now, but I guess I could compromise for one night.

“I’ll be there,” I said and hung up.

I looked at my phone. This was just professional. He’d said so himself. Nothing to worry about. Besides, he’d been trying to get to me from the moment I’d met him. It hadn’t been easy to keep him at arm’s length.

Hanson had something about him that made me want to respond to him. It made me want to give him what he was asking for. That wasn’t going to happen. He was a client, and I was stronger than that. I had managed to shut him down so far.

Dinner tonight wouldn’t be a problem.

Would it?

Chapter 12