just being polite earlier, calling them fries. Didn’t want to confuse you.”
She threw back her head and laughed, revealing the pale skin on her long neck, then shook her head and leaned a little closer. “The more tired you get, the stronger your accent gets. Any more Scottish and I’ll need a translator.”
His brow furrowed. “Nothing wrong with my accent. You just need to pay attention—concentrate a little more.”
“Says the man who is sleepwalking at the bar.”
He waved a fry with his fingers. “I’m not sleepwalking—I’m sleep-eating. There’s a difference.”
She leaned over and snagged another fry. They were dwindling faster than should be possible. This woman was smart, confident and full of sass. He liked that. “So, what brings you here?”
She waved her hand nonchalantly. “Yeah, yeah, I should be in there too. Schmoozing. But the truth is, I’m not much of a schmoozer.”
He raised his eyebrows in mock horror. “You don’t say?”
“Hey.” She smiled. “It’s my one and only true failing as an adult.”
“You’ll admit to one?”
She nodded solemnly. “One, and only one.” Then she laughed and shook her head. “But you? I bet I could write a whole list.”
Her stomach gave a little grumble and she started, putting one hand on it as a little pink flushed her cheeks. “Oops, I guess I’m hungrier than I thought.”
He looked down at the plates. All remnants of the burger were gone and there were only a few fries left in the bowl.
“I could eat the whole thing again.” He sighed.
She looked a little sheepish. “Sorry, I just stole half of your dinner.” She waved over the bartender. “Can we order the same again, please?”
The bartender leaned closer. “I have to be honest. The kitchen is a little slow this evening and bar food is even slower. Between you and me, the quickest way to get served is to order room service. You’ll get it in half the time because they prioritize those orders.”
Jack paused for only a few seconds, and then he stood up. He nodded to the bartender. “You know my room number—can you put it through as a room-service order?”
The bartender glanced between them briefly then nodded. “Of course, sir. Any drinks to go with the food?”
Jack leaned on the bar. “Any drinks for you?”
Ms. Mystery looked stunned for the briefest of seconds. Then he saw that sparkle in her eyes again. He wasn’t propositioning her—not tonight at least. He was still hungry and she was good company. He had no qualms about inviting her to his room.
“Diet cola,” she said quickly as she stood up from her bar stool. There was a hint of a smile on her lips. He hadn’t even had to make the invite; he’d just worked on the assumption she would join him. And it seemed she was taking up the challenge.
He turned back to the bartender. “Make that two, thanks.”
The bartender disappeared and he crooked his elbow toward her. “Looks like I’m about to buy you dinner for the second time this evening.” He glanced toward the packed ballroom, then paused. “You okay with this?”
Her eyes scanned the ballroom too and she gave the briefest shake of her head. “I have the strangest feeling I might be in safe hands with you, Mr. Grumpy Scot. I think I can take the chance.” She laughed. “And to think, I took this position at the bar because you looked like the least trouble in the room.”
As they headed toward the elevators, he couldn’t resist. “Honey, I’m more trouble than you could ever imagine.”
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