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Mr. Gates—Daniel—placed his hand in the centre of my back and guided me into the dining area. It was the lightest touch, but I felt it down to my toes. Our table was in the far corner and overlooked the street below, with a gorgeous view of the harbour. The sea shimmered in the distance, azure blue in the sunlight, and made the perfect backdrop. Daniel pulled out a seat for me and waited until I sat before he claimed his own.
Even with such a spectacular view before me, my eyes were drawn to the man sitting opposite. His gaze searched my face, and then he sat back, the rigid set of his shoulders relaxing.
The waiter fussed around, pouring iced water, inviting us to look at the menu and pointing out the daily specials. Apart from a handful of other diners on the other side of the room, we had the restaurant to ourselves. I knew I couldn’t eat a thing, but I pretended to examine the options. My stomach was busy tying itself in knots and my palms were damp. I forced myself to breathe, to not show how nervous I was.
“Are you ready to order?” Daniel put down his menu and steepled his fingers, wrists resting on the table. Stones the same colour as the harbour outside adorned snowy white cuffs, and they jogged another memory. I frowned as I tried to untangle it.
Daniel noticed. “There’s no rush. I don’t have any other appointments this afternoon.”
I pasted on a polite smile. “Sorry, I was distracted by your cuff links. I love the colour. It’s the same shade as the mosaic tiles on my café floor.”
“Is it?” His gaze didn’t waver from me.
I was an assertive businesswoman, not a simpering girl, and this was the perfect opening for me. “I saw you in my café earlier. What did you think of it?”
“I like it.”
I couldn’t hold back my delight. “That was a typical lunchtime rush for us. We’re doing good business.”
There was a hint of an answering smile, but then he tapped the menu card. “Let’s order. I believe the salmon is good here.”
I adored salmon. I glanced at the printed card, and then up at the waiter, who hovered with a pen and pad in hand. “Green salad please.” I handed back the menu, and then looked at Daniel.
“The Asian-style salmon please. A large portion, and sides too. Shoestring fries and garlic mushrooms.
My mouth watered at the feast he ordered. My plain salad would be the height of blandness in comparison.
He hadn’t finished though. “We’ll have a platter of the mixed dumplings to share first. Fried.”
I gave a self-conscious little laugh. “You’ve ordered all my favourite things.”
“Really?” He sat back, the image of a relaxed man. “We have several things in common.”
It was absurd to think I could have anything in common with this guy, but I played along. “Salmon and garlic mushrooms. And fried dumplings.”
“And good coffee.”
“Definitely.” I wanted to ask if he’d enjoyed the coffee I’d brewed, but that felt like digging for compliments. It was time to get the meeting back on track. I picked up the hefty folder with all my additional paperwork, and opened it. “We have a few minutes before the food arrives. Would you like another look at the marketing campaign I’ve planned? Or my mock-ups of how the new premises would look?”
His eyes twinkled with something. Amusement perhaps? “I’d love to, but let’s save the business stuff until we’ve eaten. There are much better conversations to have over good food, don’t you agree?”
I didn’t want to make small talk. I wanted to wow him with my business acumen, and to make him fall in love with my little corner of Wellington, but he called the shots here. Taking a calming breath, I pushed the folder away with my fingertips and then fixed my gaze on his face. His smile was one of approval.
When faced with a sexy man, casual chat was not my strength. I paused, my mind filled with half-forgotten memories and jumbled thoughts, and groped for something interesting to say.
Daniel stepped in and filled the silence with an ease that made me envious. “Wellington is such an interesting city, don’t you think? Old and new jostling side by side. So many contrasts.”
“Yes.” I took a sip of water, and tried to relax. “Do you live in Auckland? You’re just here on business?”
“I move around a lot. I have a little place up in Peka Peka, but I haven’t been there in a while.” I knew the hamlet he mentioned, an hour’s drive north of the city. No more than a handful of cottages that hugged the coast, it wasn’t even big enough to be called a village.
“It’s pretty up there.” I’d been some time ago, but couldn’t remember when, or who with. Probably to see friends.
“Yes, it is. I like how remote it feels.” His voice dropped a fraction, taking on a husky note. It soothed my jangled nerves, as easily as balm on sunburned skin.
There was a question I had to ask, before I lost my nerve. “This is bugging me, but I can’t remember where we met. Do you know?”
Wariness flashed across his eyes, before he looked away. “Perhaps a conference? Or a seminar?”
I hadn’t been to many conferences. “Maybe.”
“Which University did you attend? Victoria in Wellington, wasn’t it?” I nodded. That had been on my application form. “I’ve done some lecturing there. I’d guess that’s where you remember me from.”
I wasn’t so sure, but I didn’t want to appear an idiot. Time to change the subject. “If you like fried dumplings, there’s a little shop near Parliament that specialises in them. They only do takeaways, but they’re quick and delicious. I go there if I’m that end of town.”
“I’m hoping you’ll share the platter with me.” His eyes twinkled, and he gestured to the approaching waiter. “Here they are. You can tell me how they compare.”
He insisted we share the dumplings, and it was impossible to resist. Little crispy parcels filled with pork and spices, served with a fierce chilli sauce, I was in food heaven. When our main courses arrived, he frowned at my salad and placed half his salmon on my plate too, along with fries and mushrooms.
The previously halting conversation became easier as we devoured the lunch. I made him laugh when I told him about dressing in a hurry one morning, and arriving in the café with odd shoes. He delighted me by quoting lines from a recent movie I’d loved.
By the time the food was gone and we sat back in our chairs, I felt as comfortable with him as I did with any of my oldest friends. The thought made me pause. This wasn’t a date. I wasn’t here to flirt with Daniel, I was here to persuade him to invest in my business—something I seemed to have forgotten about in the past couple hours.