Free Close Up by Erin McCarthy

we won’t have any breaches in security Friday night,” he assured June. “I’ll have a guard here at the gallery between now and the end of the event.”
    “Excellent.” June gave him an assessing sweep. “You’re the owner?”
    “Yes.”
    Kristine was grateful her boss’s eyes were off her, and amused they seemed to have fixed on Sean with an interest more personal than professional. She couldn’t blame June for drinking in the sight of Sean. He worked his suit like nobody’s business, and his air was confident, in control. She was certainly impressed with him, the way he never seemed to doubt himself and had no feelings of guilt or unworthiness.
    She felt like she was always leading with an apology.
    It was something she was working on, and to that end, she shouldn’t let Sean rescue her with June, because that’s clearly what he was doing. Take charge—that’s what she needed to do.
    “Is there anything else I can do for you, June?” she asked. “I think I’ll head out for tonight. I’ll be here tomorrow early if you need any help refitting the frames with new glass.”
    It was her right to go home. Her role was done. The goal was to sound confident. Yet immediately she worried she came off as a slacker. At least she no longer felt the urge to laugh.
    “That’s fine, thank you, Kristine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
    “I’ll walk you out,” Sean said. “That back lot is dark.”
    “Oh! Thanks.” So he wasn’t going to let her off the hook for the night. He was going to insist she go for a drink with him.
    She had to admit, she wanted him to insist.
    Yes, she was exhausted and stressed, but that look he’d given her right before June walked in the back room... Her panties still felt warm.
    Sean didn’t touch her as she grabbed her purse and they exited through the back door, but she was still acutely aware of him. Her footsteps sounded loud on the parking lot’s crumbling asphalt, as they walked in what she felt was an awkward silence. She didn’t know what to say. Where did they start?
    At her car, which had seen better days, she stuck the key in the door and manually unlocked it. The automatic locks had stopped working at least two years earlier. She turned back to Sean. “Thanks.”
    “Meet me at the wine bar on the next block in ten minutes,” he demanded.
    “Oh, well...” She had no excuse. She’d already said yes. “As long as we don’t stay late. I have to be at the gallery early.”
    “You’ll get your eight hours,” he said. “Just give me one.”
    “Of course. Sure.” She owed him after inadvertently blindsiding him with divorce papers. Hell, she owed him a whole lot more than that, but the parking lot wasn’t the place to dig up old dirt.
    Maybe a wine bar wasn’t, either, but at least the setting was pleasant. Sean wasn’t even ten minutes. Kristine had barely sat down in the reception area when he was pulling open the door and striding in, giving her a smile. God, he was so hot. He’d been good-looking at twenty-one, with a naughty smile and a rumpled and disheveled sexiness. Now he was just commanding. It was insane that no woman had managed to snag him yet. She was sure those who had tried would equal a cast of thousands.
    Every woman with blood in her veins would want a piece of him.
    “The last time I saw you, you weren’t even legally able to order a drink,” he said, shaking his head. “Damn, we were young.”
    “Young and stupid and in love. What a fabulous combination,” she said ruefully as they followed the hostess to a table tucked into a corner. The uplighting in the room was red, and the booths were covered in dark velvet. It exuded a bordello feeling. Intimate. Romantic.
    If she expected Sean to agree with her, she was wrong. He shrugged. “I don’t know. There were a lot of things that worked about it. We had no expectations. No financial needs. We were just into each other. What’s so stupid about that?”
    For some reason, her heart