Page 18 of Perfect Together
She waved away his concern, treating him to a whiff of her strong perfume, which he’d already been informed was Givenchy. “If you’re concerned about appearances, I have my own private entrance around back.”
Of course she did. Along with her own stipend, which meant she didn’t have to work. He wasn’t in her social class, and her interest in Sam was purely sexual, so he didn’t feel bad turning her down. She certainly wouldn’t get her feelings hurt, but that didn’t mean he’d deliberately set out to be cruel.
He gripped the steering wheel in both hands. “That’s not it.”
“Oh, you’re shy!” She reached out a perfectly manicured hand and stroked his arm. “Good thing I’m not,” she whispered in what he supposed was meant to be a seductive voice.
God. He did not want to hurt her feelings any more than he wanted to have this conversation, but the woman couldn’t take a polite hint.
“Margie, I had a nice time tonight, but—”
“Oh, so did I! I always knew if I could persuade you to go out with me, you’d see the potential.” She ran her hand down his arm.
He closed his eyes. “I don’t. I mean, I just want to be friends.”
“Well, of course, silly. I want that too. Very good friends.” She dropped her hand to his thigh, and Sam jumped so high in his seat that his head nearly hit the roof of the car. She made him want to grab for his gun, which he always had on him, he thought, laughing to himself. Though he really wasn’t amused.
He grasped her wrist before she could touch him anywhere else. “Ionlywant to be friends,” he clarified. “I’m sorry, but—”
“I’m offering you everything...” She gestured from her cleavage on downward. “And you’re turning me down?” she asked, her voice rising. “Oh my God, you must be gay.”
He blinked in shock. “I’m not gay.” Although at this moment he wished he were. It would make her believe his disinterest. “I’m just not interested that way. You’re a nice woman, and I’m sure someone out there will make you very happy. It’s just not me.”
“Screw happy. I have everything I want except sex with a hot guy. What’s wrong with you that you don’t want to give me that?”
Sam stared at her, recognizing that she had more than one screw loose. “Like I said, I’m sure there’s someone out there for you.”
“I’ve always wanted you,” she said, composing herself again.
And clearly, she wasn’t used to not getting what she wanted. So when he’d agreed to this date, she’d assumed they could be together. “But I don’t want you,” he said, deciding her persistence called for extreme measures.
She narrowed her gaze.
“I’m sorry,” he felt compelled to say again.
“Fine. I’m sure Rob Burnett will be interested since you aren’t.”
Sam couldn’t think of a better fit than Margie and Rob, the player. He remained silent, and with a huff of annoyance, she flung open the car door, not waiting for him to get out or even react, and flounced—there wasn’t a better word for her gait—down the driveway and around back to her private entrance.
Sam shook his head and pulled out of the driveway, glad to have this night over and Margie Stinson out of his life so he could move on to what mattered.
Just the thought of Nicole, looking so damn beautiful in that blue dress that draped her curves, had all thoughts of any other women evaporating as if they’d never existed for him at all.
Chapter Four
The morning afterthe gala, Nicole walked into The Family Restaurant for breakfast. She asked for Macy, only to be told her friend wasn’t working this morning, so she settled into a booth and ordered an egg-white omelet and a cup of coffee. A few minutes later, a woman who looked to be in her midsixties made herself at home in the seat across from Nicole.
“Hello,” Nicole said, not recognizing the older strawberry blonde with teased hair and wrists covered with bracelets.
“Hi yourself.” The woman set her arms on the table and stared at Nicole.
And continued to stare until Nicole became uncomfortable. “Can I help you?”
“Get off my turf.”
Nicole blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You’re a baker?”