argument made sense to him. He just hoped it sounded reasonable to her.
Watching her nibble on her lower lip as she mulled over what he’d said, it was all he could do to keep from groaning. Why did he suddenly find her mouth so damned fascinating? Hadn’t he learned a damn thing about professional, career-minded women?
“What time is the meeting?” she asked.
Was it his imagination or was there a slight tremor in her voice?
“Ortiz wants to give me a tour of the manufacturing plant tomorrow afternoon, then have dinner around six or seven.”
“It would be too late for us to drive back tomorrow evening and I have two phone meetings early the next morning.” She sounded extremely relieved when she added, “I’m sorry, but I really think my going with you would be impossible. We’ve been courting these potential clients for several months and there’s the possibility of losing them if I reschedule the calls.”
He wasn’t about to give up that easily. “Where are they located?”
“Mr. Sanchez is in Las Cruces and Mrs. Bailey is in Truth or Consequences.” Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“If I remember my high-school geography, those two places aren’t that far from Roswell,” he said, thinking fast. “Call and tell them we’ll be in their area day after tomorrow and that we’d like to meet with them in person. It’ll show that we’d really like to work for them, as well as free you up to go to Roswell with me. Then we’ll drive back after dinner Thursday evening.” Deciding to beat a hasty retreat before she could find another excuse, he headed for the door. “I’ll come by your place around ten in the morning.”
“Th-that won’t be necessary,” she said, stopping him. When he turned back, she added, “I have to come in tomorrow morning to tie up a few loose ends. We can leave from here.”
Caleb could tell she wasn’t happy, but that couldn’t be helped. He wasn’t particularly proud of having to rely on her expertise to keep from looking like a fool in front of a client.
“Fair enough,” he said, nodding. “I’ll have Geneva make a reservation for tomorrow night in Roswell.”
“That should be reservations—plural—as in two rooms.”
“Of course.”
Heading out the door to speak with their secretary, Caleb couldn’t help but grin. He clearly made A. J. Merrick as nervous as the parents of a four-year-old talking to the preacher after Sunday services.
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