The Way You Tempt Me, page 8
“In public,” she added, grabbing her purse and stuffing her laptop into her bag. “Ready when you are.”
* * *
In retrospect, Xavier could have gone about this differently. He wasn’t the type for big overtures. He didn’t get as far as he had by being anything other than forthright. That’s why it was surprising that he’d essentially inserted himself into Zara’s weekend in L.A. First, by moving up his planned meeting with Andrew and Bishop by two weeks. Second, by finagling a ticket onto the same plane that he knew she’d be on. And, thanks to Skye, he knew she’d be late, which gave him the opportunity to board before her.
One of the flight attendants stopped at his row and greeted him with a warm smile. “Good morning, Mr. Starks. What can I get you to drink?”
“Hi”—he peered at her name tag—“Kayla. Coffee is fine.”
“Cream and sugar?”
“No, thanks.”
She handed him a hot towel and an amenity kit, before she jetted off to the next customer. Glancing at his watch, he peered at the door. Zara wasn’t just a little behind, she was late as hell. The doors of the plane would close in five minutes. He considered texting Skye, but decided against it. She’d be there.
Instead, he unlocked his phone and read a text from Hill. He smiled at the excitement in his client’s message that he’d landed the role and a lucrative video game deal as well. He’d be voicing his character on every game related to the series. He responded with a Gif and a congrats.
“X?”
He looked up and smiled. “Zara.”
“Wh-why? What are you doing here?” She scanned the area, a frown on her beautiful face. “How did you... ?” She fumbled with her carry-on, nearly dropping it on his head, before he stood and took it from her, sliding it into the overheard compartment easily.
“Window seat or aisle?” he asked, chuckling at the confused look in her eyes. She eyed him silently, multiple emotions playing over her features. “How about you take the window?” he offered, motioning for her to take her seat. She plopped down into the chair, grumbling nonsensical words and sliding her briefcase under the seat. He sat next to her and leaned against her, shoulder to shoulder. “Good morning, sunshine.”
She ignored him, muttering something about ruined plans and lack of lip gloss this early in the morning. He hid his smile as the flight attendant returned with his coffee and took Zara’s drink order, which consisted of two mimosas and a bottle of water.
They sat in silence until Kayla returned with her drinks. She finished the first mimosa in record time, before the attendant even left, and handed her the empty glass.
With raised eyebrows, he asked, “Thirsty?”
“Oh, God,” she grumbled, before turning to him, fire in her eyes. “How are you here?”
“I’m flying to L.A.”
“No.” She shook her head rapidly. “No, you’re not flying to L.A. Skye is supposed to be on this flight. Not you.”
He shrugged, enjoying the interaction. “Something came up.”
“But you can’t do this.” She pointed a perfectly manicured finger at him. And he resisted the urge to suck it into his mouth.
“Can’t do what? Fly on a public airplane?”
“No, fly on my airplane. I mean, my flight.”
He laughed. “You’re silly.”
She folded her arms across her breasts. “You’re a stalker.”
“A ‘stalker’?”
“Yes.”
He leaned forward, closer than he’d planned. And she jerked back. “How am I a stalker? I have business in L.A.”
“Right. All of a sudden, you have business in L.A.” Her lips pressed into a thin line and he wanted to reach out and rub his thumb across them. “Very convenient.”
“Is there a problem here?” he asked, unable to hide his amusement. “You, of all people, should know that travel is an important part of my job. Do you have a problem with me doing my job?”
“Of course not.” She shot him an incredulous stare. “I just... I didn’t expect you. And it’s early. I’m not a morning person.”
“Yet you get up and go to the gym every morning at five.”
“Shut up,” she hissed, pulling out her phone. He caught a glimpse of the text she’d typed to Skye: I’m going to kill you.
“Don’t be too hard on her,” he said with a chuckle.
“Shut up,” she repeated.
An hour into the air, she turned to him. “Why are you really here?”
He closed the magazine he’d been pretending to read and looked at her. She was stunning, her cheeks flushed and eyes wild and suspicious.
“Are you buzzed?” He arched a brow.
“No,” she said. A little too quickly.
“Sure?”
She’d had three mimosas in under an hour, and while there wasn’t much alcohol in the drink, it was early in the morning. And he knew Zara didn’t eat breakfast. She’d barely touched the egg sandwich the flight attendant brought to her, and had only eaten two pieces of honeydew.
“Very,” she replied.
“Good. What was your question?”
“X, we had a moment in the office last week.”
He hadn’t expected her to bring up their impromptu dinner last week, because nothing happened after they left her office. He’d taken her to Henry’s Midtown Tavern for her tacos, and they’d talked about everything other than the heated moment, before they went their separate ways. The next morning, he’d hopped on a flight to New York for a premiere.
“We did,” he said, allowing his gaze to roam over her face. For an early-morning flight, she was magnificent. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she’d put on little makeup, which was exactly the way he liked her.
“You almost kissed me.”
He nodded. “I did.”
“And then we didn’t see each other for a week. We didn’t even talk to each other. And now you’re here.”
“I am.”
“Well?” she prodded. “Why?”
“Because I felt like it would be an opportunity for us to talk without interruptions—and in public.”
She bit her lip, a smile peeking out. Then she giggled. “You... you get on my last nerve.”
“And you’re beautiful.”
Rolling her eyes, she waved a dismissive hand at him. “Stop playin’.”
“I’m serious. Look, Zara, what’s happening between us is weird, right?”
“Good weird? Or bad weird?” She tapped a finger against the tray.
“I don’t know weird. It’s not-normal-behavior-for-us weird.”
“Exactly. Which is why it might be best if we don’t address it.”
“Oh, because you don’t like to face your personal problems?”
With narrowed eyes on him, she said, “How about because we work together? And it’s bad business to sleep where you work, especially since we’re up for the same job. Why confuse things?”
He rested his head against the seat and peered up at the ceiling. Why am I doing this? The answer to his question was obvious. Because I want to. He wanted her. He’d spent a crazy amount of time obsessing over her, thinking about what she was doing, contemplating if she dated anyone. That night at the office, he’d heard her talking to a man over speakerphone and he remembered how he’d felt when he heard her tell that man she loved him. Then he recalled the relief that washed over him when she’d told him it was Rick. It occurred to him that he wasn’t ready to see her with another man. Which was ridiculous. Right? Because she wasn’t his. Not even close. But she could be.
“I can’t stop myself,” he admitted softly.
She gasped. “I don’t know what to say.”
He shot her a sidelong glance. “Zara.” They stared at each other for a moment. “I can’t turn back the clock and pretend that I don’t feel things for you I’ve never thought possible.”
Her mouth fell open. “What are we supposed to do with this?”
Shrugging, he said, “I don’t know. So I figured I’d move up my meetings and take the chance to talk to my friend about it.” He threaded his fingers into hers. “Because you are my friend. You’ve always been my friend, no matter how far apart we’ve been. We should be able to talk about this and be okay with whatever comes of the conversation.”
“You’re right. I just... I’ve never been in this situation. Friends are friends, romance is romance. Usually that’s separate for me. But us? X, we work together, we grew up together, and now there’s this thing that won’t go away. And if I’m being honest, I can’t afford to risk everything for something that might be fleeting.”
The comment stung, but he knew she’d spoken truth. Every step they made would have lasting consequences, whether it be at work or with friends or between them.
“And then the work part. I’ve been burned, most recently by someone I trusted. Even though I probably shouldn’t have,” she added under her breath.
“I would never hurt you like that. Yes, we’re competitive. Yes, we want the same job. No, I wouldn’t stab you in the back, take your ideas and pass them off as mine. I’m going to get the job because I deserve it.”
“Oh?” She snorted, pulling back and studying him with a wicked gleam in her eyes. “You deserve it, huh?”
“Absolutely.”
And this interaction—the easy way they were with each other; the fact that they understood each other without a question; the fact that space and time hadn’t changed who they were, or how they complemented one another. It was everything he didn’t know he craved in life. He’d dated many women, but no one had demanded he be unapologetically him. Most wanted something, whether it was status or fame or money. Zara wasn’t one of those women, and he loved that about her. She didn’t eat salad to impress him; she never ran out of the room to burp; she always admitted when she was wrong.
“Confession time,” she said. “This feels good to me. I love how we are with each other.”
“Me too.”
“I don’t want to lose focus, though. Moving across the country, taking this job, has been a big adjustment for me. Don’t get me wrong! I love it at Pure Talent. But I can’t afford to take my eyes off the prize.”
“That’s fair.”
“I trusted Larry and he hurt me. And he wasn’t you. We didn’t have the history that you and I do. There are so many ways this can blow up in our faces, and one of the best things about being in Atlanta is seeing you more than once a year.”
“I get it,” he said. “I do.”
“So, can we just agree to table whatever this is for now?”
He smirked. “I’ll try.”
“Thank you,” she mouthed. “Now tell me what business you have in L.A.”
Xavier told Zara about his plans for Pure Talent Audio and she’d listened intently, added some of her own ideas and encouraged him to think bigger. For the rest of the flight, they chatted about her desire to work more with sports properties, representing the owners of sports and entertainment facility owners to guide and manage the development of their facilities. She also expressed interest in getting involved with Pure Talent’s philanthropic efforts.
The more she talked, the more he was sure he wouldn’t be able to do as she asked. Because he wanted Zara Reid. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything or anyone else.
Chapter 8
Zara let the top down on the luxury convertible rental she’d splurged on and merged onto the I-405 North toward her Brentwood home. The mild seventy-degree weather was just what the doctor ordered. She couldn’t wait to sleep in her bed and cook dinner in her kitchen. Soon as their flight landed, she’d hightailed it to the shuttle, while X headed to the driver he’d hired. She’d offered to drive him, but he’d let her off the hook by telling her that he’d planned to meet Bishop and Drew at the Pure Talent L.A. office. After an awkward silence and a stiff hug, they’d gone their separate ways.
The enlightening conversation they’d had on the plane still sat with her. In her head, she’d turned over every word, every movement, every look, multiple times as she waited for her car. And even now—when she should have been enjoying home—she was thinking about him, wondering where he was and what he was doing.
Several minutes and a few frustrated moments of road rage later, Zara pulled into her driveway. The Spanish-style home had been her first present to herself, once she received access to her trust fund. When she’d bought the house, she’d spent time and money redecorating it, installing new hardwood floors and knocking down a few walls to create the open concept. It felt good to be back home, in her little slice of heaven.
She jumped out of the car and walked around the yard, assessing the landscaping and pulling a few weeds she’d found. The gardener she’d hired had done a good job of maintaining the lawn and trees. While she was there, she planned to get out in the dirt and do some work herself.
Inside, she quickly opened the windows and let the fresh air in. On the kitchen table, there was a note from her housekeeper to Larissa, reminding her she’d be out of town for the week. Speaking of her sister . . . she picked up the phone and texted her that she was in town.
Zara opened the refrigerator. The only thing inside were two bottles of water and a bottle of white wine. She found a notepad and jotted down a grocery list, before she retreated to the master bedroom to shower.
“Zara?” Larissa shouted, entering the bedroom thirty minutes later.
She emerged from the bathroom, clad in a robe, and right into her sister’s waiting arms. “Rissa!” They embraced. “You’re here.”
“You texted, I came.”
“I’m glad.” Zara walked into her closet and searched for an outfit to wear. She’d purposefully left a lot of her clothing at her house, because she did a lot of work in L.A. and had hoped to spend a significant amount of time there. “I need to go to the grocery store. I want to cook dinner here tonight for you and Mom.”
“That sounds good to me. We can make an evening of it.”
Settling on a pair of loose-fitting khakis, a white T-shirt, and a black blazer, she laid her clothes out on the bed and walked back into the bathroom.
Rissa followed her. “You are a sight for sore eyes, sissy.”
She eyed her sister through the mirror. “I know. It’s only been a couple of months, but it feels like a year. I missed your face.”
Zara applied a light foundation and pulled her hair out of the ponytail. She quickly put on her eye makeup and styled her hair. Soon they were on the go, making a trip to the mall and the grocery store, before returning to Zara’s house.
“I love this kitchen,” Rissa said, rinsing a strainer full of lettuce under the faucet.
Zara cut up the strawberries for the salad. “Me too. Thanks for taking care of my house for me.”
“It’s no trouble. So, what’s been going on in Atlanta?”
She paused a bit before continuing her task. After she cut up another strawberry, she glanced up at Larissa, who’d started making the homemade salad dressing. “I almost kissed X.”
Her sister’s loud gasp made her smile. “What? And you’re just now telling me. We’ve been together for hours.” Rissa walked over, stood right next to her, and stared until Zara stopped cutting and met her waiting gaze.
“Stop staring at me.” She dumped the strawberries in the bowl of romaine lettuce and fresh spinach. “Nothing happened. But there have been a few moments between us.”
“I knew it!” Rissa grinned. “You want him.”
Rolling her eyes, Zara pulled out a frying pan and the pound of bacon she’d purchased. “He’s hot. Who doesn’t want him?”
“That’s besides the point. I’m not talking about anyone but you.”
Zara told her sister about the office incident. “Then he shows up on the plane this morning on purpose, just so he could talk to me.”
“Wait a minute, he’s here? In L.A.?”
“Yes.” She laid five pieces of bacon in the pan. “He flew in for business. He even got Skye involved.” Her best friend had called her right before she’d showered earlier and asked how the flight was. Zara couldn’t even bring herself to be outraged at Skye, because she knew where her heart was. “But we had a good talk and decided not to pursue anything.”
“Are you kidding me, Zara? Why? If both of you are feeling each other, why not explore it?”
“Because! It’s too much for me right now. I can’t do that to myself.” She flipped the bacon. “And what if it doesn’t work out. Then we’ll be at war at work. There will be no fun group nights, because we can’t stand each other, like Skye and Garrett.”
“First of all, you’re not Skye and he’s not Garrett. Two, you need some. I hate to see you working all day, every day, and not enjoying life.”
“I love my job. I really do. I was nervous at first, but I think it’s a good fit.”
“You’re missing the point.”
“No, I got it. You’re happy with Rick and that’s great! I’m happy for you. But the way my life is set up right now, I can’t.” Zara sighed. She’d already given reasons, which she thought were valid, to X earlier, and she didn’t want to do it again. “I shouldn’t have to convince you that I know what’s best for my life. Why can’t you just trust me to live the way I see fit?”
“I don’t want you to end up alone.”
“I’m not alone. I have friends, I have my job, I have you and Mom. I’m good.” She looked at her sister. “Don’t worry about me. You just focus on your happy.”
“Fine. I won’t tell you how to live your life. But can I just say that the woman I see in front of me right now is a boss. You have done your thing in a male-dominated field. I would never underestimate you. I just want you to have more than that. I want you to know what it feels like to love someone with everything in you and have that love returned with as much passion as you can stand. I want you to experience waking up in the morning with someone who makes you feel safe and warm, even on the coldest days.” A tear fell down her sister’s face and Zara swiped it away. “I know that the deterioration of Mom and Dad’s marriage did a number on you. Hell, it shook me up, too. I worry that you’re afraid to step out there because of that.”
