She snorted at that. “I have a mirror. I’m nothing like the women you normally have your picture taken with.”
“That is window dressing…a facade I present to the world to keep my private life private.” He looked so sincere, but he couldn’t be serious.
“But—”
“Come to dinner with me and see what kind of man I am when the paparazzi are not present with their insidious cameras.”
“My job…” she said uncertainly.
“I make you this promise, Danette. Your job will not be influenced for good or for ill regardless of what happens or does not happen between us.”
“So, if I say no to your dinner invitation?” she asked.
“I will be disappointed, but that will have no impact on your employment, advancement or type of opportunities given here at Scorsolini Shipping. To be fair, I must also tell you that even if you were to become my lover, that would not impact those same things in a positive way, either.”
“I never for a moment would have expected them to.”
“You are very naive.”
“There’s nothing naive about believing that a person should earn their job advancement.”
He smiled, but his eyes were serious. “I like that about you and I agree.”
“Good.”
“So, will you allow me to take you to dinner?”
Every logical impulse in her body screamed at her to tell him no. She didn’t want to get into a relationship, but dinner wasn’t exactly a promise for the future. Maybe he was only interested in friendship. But he’d mentioned being her lover. That implied a lot more than chatting over coffee.
Oddly enough, it was the prospect of the more that had her so horribly tempted. She’d dated so little in her life and she’d never spent so much as half an hour with a man as intriguing as Marcello. Not unless you counted Angelo Gordon, but he belonged to her friend and even he didn’t stir her latent sexuality the way that Marcello did.
Ray certainly never had, the lying sneak.
This wasn’t about love and happily ever after, she told herself, it was about experiencing feelings she’d denied herself far too long.
“Okay. I’ll have dinner with you.”
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