Free Conflicted by Lisa Suzanne

beauty.
    Allure.
    Masculinity.
    Sex.
    I cleared my throat at that thought, and he snapped out of his reverie and turned his attention toward me. I couldn’t help but notice the slight appreciation in his eyes as he looked me up and down. I’d settled on a turquoise dress that was low cut enough to be fun in case we went out anywhere but could also pass for professional.
    I swore I wasn’t just imagining things. I wanted him to take notice, and he was.
    I just wasn’t sure if he’d act on it.
    I wanted him to.
    More than ever.
    But I would never be the one to make the move. If he did, that was one thing. Then I could say yes or no. I should say no, but I wasn’t convinced I would.
    I waited for a compliment because I knew I looked good, but he didn’t give me one. He shook his head slightly and took another sip of his amber liquid, averting his eyes to the window.
    “Tonight we’re meeting with the CEO of GeoTech. It’s an account I secured a few years ago, just a follow up while I’m in town. I’m good friends with him, so it’ll be sort of a boy’s night. Will you be uncomfortable with that?”
    “What does that mean, exactly?” I asked.
    “It means swearing and cigars and I can’t say we haven’t ended up at a strip club before.” He said it in a rush, like he was embarrassed to admit it, while he stared down at the floor.
    It sounded like a whole lot of fun to me.
    “I can handle it,” I said.
    “Are you sure?”
    I nodded.
    “Are you easily offended? Because if you are, I need to know now.”
    I shook my head, and he pulled some paperwork out of his suitcase and set it on the desk. He handed me a pen.
    “Can I get that in writing?” His voice held a tinge of nervousness that I hadn’t expected to hear from him.
    I giggled. I couldn’t help it. I glanced through the paragraph that basically said I wouldn’t sue him if sexual comments were made in my presence. I signed with a flourish and handed him back the papers.
    “Thanks,” he mumbled.
    “You don’t have to be embarrassed.”
    “I’m not.” He totally was.
    I held back another giggle, and he eyed my outfit again.
    “Is what I’m wearing okay?” I asked, glancing down self-consciously.
    He paused, his eyes flicking to my breasts for just a moment that I was certain I hadn’t imagined.
    “Yeah. It’s…uh…it’s fine.”
    Don was waiting for us exactly where he’d dropped us off only a few hours earlier. Cole ushered me into the back of the Yukon. My phone buzzed in my purse, likely with a text from my husband finally replying to mine from earlier…but I ignored it. I was officially on business time as we made our way to dinner, despite what the paper I’d signed may have implied.
    Don expertly darted from lane to lane, and we made it to Brighton ten minutes early—just the way Cole liked to arrive. “You never want to be the last to arrive to a business meeting,” he’d explained to me a couple of weeks earlier. When I’d asked why, he said, “Because you might miss any business that takes place before your arrival.”
    A hostess led us to our table, a round affair with seating for six.
    After I ordered my standard glass of white wine and Cole ordered some fancy bourbon I’d never even heard of, he said, “You’ll be my eyes and ears tonight, Ms. Cleary. I don’t plan on remembering too much.”
    “Yes, sir.” I chuckled. So that was why he’d brought me with? So he could get drunk?
    A man with a small entourage made his way to our table. The leader of the pack was probably around Cole’s age—late twenties, I guessed. He was attractive and rugged and definitely fit all the qualities of my type. Not that it mattered.
    Cole stood and gave one of the men one of those bro-handshake-half-hug things. “Good to see you, man. This is my assistant, Lucy Cleary.” It was the first time I’d heard Cole actually use my first name, and I loved the way it sounded. I imagined him saying it in the throes of a heated