Page 36 of Cocky Tech God
I tucked my black clutch under my arm. “I almost had a pre-drink of my own.”
“An amaretto sour?” He grinned.
“Cute.”
He leaned in close to me for a moment, and said, “I’m determined to get you to have sex on the beach before this week is over.”
“The drink?” I fluttered my eyes. I knew damn well he meant the actual act. But I needed to play, get to my lighter self. I didn’t want to drag dark things into the dinner meeting with me.
“Well, Miss Mendez, one is more appealing than the other.”
“I bet.”
In unison, we walked in the direction of the Japanese restaurant in the hotel. It was on the other side, but the hotel was bursting with attendees, so we came across people who wanted to chat or say hello to Hansen, some to me. But I was with a superstar.
God, this man didn’t need a bigger head.
Just as we got there, Hansen pulled me to him, his lips against my ear. “This will be fine, I promise.”
“Just stay out of my way, Holte.” I touched his lapel, flattening it against his broad chest. “There, that’s better.”
He shook his head, an incredulous grin on his face. We didn’t say another word until we stood at the hostess station in the dimly lit restaurant.
The hostess greeted us, her gaze moving down to an iPad after Hansen asked for Graham’s reservation for three. “Yes, Mr. Holte. Mr. Morgan is at the bar. I will seat you all now.” She gleamed at him and ignored me.
I snickered to myself. Some people just commanded attention without asking. Just walking in a room and they are noticed. Hansen was that type of a guy. So, it was no wonder that he could really have any woman he wanted.
We followed her toward a private table overlooking the ocean from a large window. The waves crashed onto Seven Mile Beach. Hansen stopped to watch the waves, his eyes soft and far off. He’d been lost in thought. I paused to gaze at him. What made him somber in that moment? I hadn’t seen that emotion in him, and it intrigued me. But Graham’s arrival to the table startled me and Hansen.
“Good evening, Miss Mendez.” He shook my hand with slight vigor. And as quick as he gave me his complete attention, he turned to Hansen. “Holte. Good to see you.”
“Good to see you, as well, Graham,” Hansen said, their handshake turning into a bro pat on the back. They were thick as thieves, apparently.
No worries. I would penetrate that bro barrier.
We all sat at the table for three. Not soon after, the waiter arrived at our table, taking our drink orders, of which we decided on the Ginga Shizuku Divine Droplets sake to share.
“Do you like sake, Lucia?” Graham asked, leaning back in his chair, his white napkin flung on his crossed knee jutting from under the table to the side.
“Yes, I do.”
“I had some phenomenal sake when I visited Japan.” He turned his gaze to Hansen. “You lived in Japan, didn’t you, Hansen?”
Hansen nodded. “I did for a semester during undergrad with my wife.” Hansen didn’t look at me, though I knew he felt my eyes on him.
What? Hansen had a wife? When? I’d never heard him or anyone else mention it. I knew he wasn’t married anymore. What happened? My curiosity went through the roof. Could he be more than meets the eye?
Suddenly, my eyes caught Hansen’s. In them I saw a far-off look. I saw something that was…the opposite of who I ever thought he was.
“Tell me about yourself, Lucia.” Graham took my attention. “Where did you go to school?”
“I went to Rice University on full scholarship for undergrad, and then to MIT for a Master’s in Software Engineering. Also, a full ride.” My arrogance rocketed through, surprising me. I’d never thrown my education around, though I knew I went to the cream of the crop schools in America for my chosen profession.
Graham nodded his approval. “Excellent. Impressive, actually.”
“Not as impressive as you, Mr. Morgan. Wharton School as an alma mater is very prestigious. No wonder you run the best wealth management company around.” I’d read up on Graham. I knew his bio. I knew his education. I knew his work experience.
Graham pointed at Hansen. “I see this guy has rubbed off on you.”