us.” It was their waiter, returning with Lewis’s sparkling water. “Can I get you anything? A cocktail perhaps?”
“The lady will have a Bloody Mary.” Lewis ignored the way Susan’s head spun around to stare at him.
“A glass of water will be fine,” she told the waiter, in a no-nonsense tone.
“And the Bloody Mary.”
The poor young man looked from Lewis to Susan and back, clearly unsure who he should listen to. “She’ll have water and a Bloody Mary,” Lewis told him. He leaned in so he could lower his voice. “Hair of the dog, Trust me.”
“And if I don’t?”
“You’ll be nursing that headache of yours all day.” A drink wouldn’t ease the pain of her throbbing head necessarily, but in his experience, it helped more often than not. “I’m the expert, remember?”
“Fine.” She told the waiter to bring her both. “If alcohol is such a cure-all, why aren’t you having any?” she asked once the waiter had gone.
“Simple. I’m not hungover. Plus, I don’t drink. Anymore,” he added when she opened her mouth.
“You don’t? Since when?”
Since he’d woken up with one too many hangovers and realized what a mess he’d made of his career, that’s when. “Been nearly nine months now.”
“Oh. I didn’t realize.”
“Few people do.” And those who did, didn’t believe it would stick. “I decided last spring it was time to get my act together. Turn over a new leaf, as it were.”
“How’s the new leaf working out for you?”
“There’s been a few bumps.” Like last night. “Turns out being sober is only half the battle. Dealing with the mess you left behind…”
“I’m guessing last night was a bump.”
“For both of us, wouldn’t you say?” He took a sip of water. “Are you going to wear those glasses throughout lunch?” It was impossible to gauge her expression when it was hidden by those big black lenses. “Feel like I’m having lunch with a Russian spy.” Or a woman embarrassed to be with him.
Although her lips pulled into a smirk, she removed the glasses. “Satisfied?” she asked.
Her excess from the night before revealed itself in a pair of dark circles that washed the color from her face. Her eyes’ warm copper center was still visible though. Lewis had wondered if he’d imagined the unusual color. He hadn’t. He hadn’t imagined the intelligence in her eyes either.
“So…” She dropped her gaze, blocking his view once more. “You said you had a business proposition for me.”
“Yes.” Apparently they were going to get right down to business. Lewis could deal with that. “Now that I’ve retired, I’m hoping to get into broadcasting but no one wants to give me so much as a meeting. They’re all afraid to take a risk.”
“No offense, but can you blame them?”
“Maybe once upon a time, but I’m not the same guy I was nine months ago. I’ve grown up, and if they gave me a shot, they would see that I know my stuff. I’d be damned good.”
He shifted in his seat so he could look her straight on. “It’s maddening. They won’t even meet with me. It’s as though the world has slotted me into a role and now I’m stuck in it for life. Whether it fits or not.”
“Everyone thinks they know you,” she said in soft voice. She was folding and unfolding her glasses with great thoughtfulness.
“Precisely.” The rush of someone understanding made Lewis want to grab her hands and squeeze them. “Telling them isn’t enough. They need tangible evidence that I am not the same person. That’s where you come in.” Taking a chance, he reached over and laid his hand on her forearm.
In a flash, her hands stilled. Lewis felt the muscles in her arm tense. Slowly—very slowly—her gaze rose to meet his. “How so?”
Before he could answer, their waiter returned. As the man placed her drinks on the table, his eyes flickered to Susan’s arm, which she quickly pulled away. Lewis tried not to smile. “Are you ready to order?” the waiter asked.
So eager had he been to discuss business, neither of them had had a chance to look at the menu. “Not—”
“I’ll have the egg-and-avocado sandwich,” Susan announced. “Is that all right? Or do you need to change my order?”
Man, but she had a bite to her. And here he’d thought last night’s sharpness was from the alcohol. “Sounds perfect. In fact, I’ll have the same. You’re very decisive, for a woman who didn’t have time to study the menu,” he said once the waiter had moved on.”
“I read the item at the top of the page and decided it sounded good. I’m not much for hemming and hawing when there’s a decision to be made.”
“You don’t like to waste your time.”
“Not if I can help it.” She swished her celery-stalk garnish around in the glass and took a crisp bite off its end. “Bringing me back to my question. What are you looking for from me?”
Lewis placed his hands on the table. He thought about covering her arm again, but that might look too forward. This was where actions and word choice mattered. “You might think I’m crazy, but I got the idea from Lorianne’s site. Until now, I’ve been staying out of the public eye, hoping people would realize I’d given up the party life, but it hasn’t been working. People only believe what they see.”
“Or think they see,” she added.
She caught on quick. “Precisely. This morning, I read Lorianne’s ‘Blind Item,’ and I realized I had things backward. Instead of being out of the public eye, I need to do the opposite. I need to be seen as much as possible, only, in the way I want to be seen.”
“In other words, you want to create a new tabloid persona. Makes sense. Although I’m not sure where I come in.”
“Well…” This was where the proposition got tricky. “I was hoping you’d be my partner in crime,” he said. “Nothing says changed man like a relationship with someone completely against type. A woman who is the total opposite of all the other women I’ve ever dated. You.”
Susan stared at him, drink hovering just below her lower lip. “Are you trying to get another drink tossed in your face?”
“Wait.” She’d set her drink down and was gathering her things. “Hear me out.”
“I already heard you. You spent your sporting career dating beautiful women. Now, to prove you’ve changed, you want to date someone who isn’t beautiful and that someone is me.”
“That’s not what I meant at all.”
“Really?” She cocked her head. “What did I miss?”
“Yes,
