Stephanie Evanovich - The Sweet Spot

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Nicki gushed to Amanda, who was standing with Eric at the bar. “I’ve never been so happy to wait on someone in my life. He called me darlin’. It sounded like something out of one of those Hallmark movies.”

Amanda rolled her eyes and considered telling her he had called her the same thing. But then she might end up confessing that, at least for a moment, it had produced the same giddy effect. It also proved that it was a term he probably threw out to countless women. But Nicki was probably just his type: perky, freewheeling, and always ready for her close-up. If he played his cards right, he could be banging with her before daybreak.

“He looks like he’s made of plastic. Why on earth would you want to get involved with someone who’s more Ken doll than actual person?” Amanda asked.

“Do you know what someone like Chase Walker could do for my career?” Nicki couldn’t contain her excitement.

“Make you forget all about it?” Amanda quipped, and Eric snickered. “Let me guess, they both want steak?”

“How did you know?” Nicki asked.

“A little bird told me,” Amanda replied, fully appreciating the irony.

Chase covertly studied Amanda throughout his meal. His agent droned on, and he listened for key words signaling his full attention, a trick he had learned from being pulled in too many directions at once. He watched her go about her business. She was graceful, moving fluidly from table to table. She took a vested interest in every single one, sitting down momentarily at some of them with a wholesome familiarity. She seemed diligent and serious about her work, but with an appealing smile always at the ready. Not the fake, tight smile she’d first given him, but the one that showed she knew how to work a room. He looked around the restaurant, which seated about a hundred. It was tastefully decorated without being ostentatious. There was a cozy ambiance without it being too dark. It was also spotless. And the employees working seemed relaxed and happy enough to be there. It proved she knew how to run a smooth operation. It all added up to the fact that Amanda Cole had gotten his attention.

Chase also noticed that she left his table alone. The service was still impeccable, just not by her. She sent an attractive waitress to fawn over him. He liked that she wasn’t impressed by him, even if his ego did take a hit. She may have been fresh, but she was clearly also intelligent. She was class and sass, all perfectly packaged. Now he just needed to figure out if she was playing hard to get.

When they finished eating, Chase convinced Alan to leave with the promise that he was going to stay put for a while, have a few drinks, and let security drive him home. After a snide remark from Alan that if some tail was going to keep Chase from wandering off, he would take it and, with a leering smile in Amanda’s direction, he left. Chase then took a seat at the bar, ordered another beer, and started chatting it up with Eric. He continued to flirt with Nicki when she picked up orders. Soon customers began to approach him, camera phones in hand. Amanda tried to distance herself from it and focus on doing her job, but she could feel him watching her in between the polite conversation he made with any and all participants. He didn’t make any attempt to hide it. Whenever she glanced in his direction, he would give her a little wink, not the least bit concerned she caught him staring.

“You’re going to sit here all night and remind me of my bad manners, aren’t you?” Amanda said from behind him once the commotion had died down.

He turned around from his barstool to take her all in, appreciating what he saw. “I’m just waiting for security to come back with my car. I hope you don’t mind if I hang out.”

“They’ve been standing watch over a very nice Jaguar double-parked in front for the last half hour.”

“In that case, I’m just an oxymoron fishing for a date,” he said with a note of pure swagger.

“You know, one of those security guards is smaller than you,” she continued, deliberately ignoring his attempt to extend an invitation. “It looks sort of counterproductive.”

“He’s the one I use when women poke fun of me in public.”

“That hurt.”

“Guilty enough to join me for dinner?”

“You just ate.”

“Not tonight, tomorrow.”

“Sorry, I can’t. I have a business to run.”

“Then let’s do lunch? Or breakfast?”

“That’s a bit presumptuous, don’t you think?” she said, finding herself teasing back.

“That’s what I’m talking about. What time are we getting off?” He was so annoyingly easygoing, not to mention gorgeous.

“Sorry, I don’t date guys I can see half naked with a Google search.”

“Geez, does that leave anyone else?”

“It leaves lots of people, Mr. Walker,” she retorted snippily, as if she were engaging in a political debate. “It leaves teachers and doctors and policemen. Men who are a little choosier about whom they let into their private lives, who can go out for a hamburger without it making Page Six of the New York Post .”

“I’m about as choosy as they come when it’s about my privacy. It’s not my fault I can’t even spit dirt out of my mouth without someone taking a picture of it.”

“You really don’t spit all that much,” she mused before catching herself. Dagnabbit, it sounded like she knew too much about him. But he did have a lovely mouth.

He smiled again. “I promised my mother I would try to curb it. So you watch baseball?”

“Occasionally,” she fibbed, attempting to take another swipe at his swagger. “It’s hard to turn off Derek Jeter, he’s pretty dreamy.”

But he only grinned at her. “You can meet him at our wedding.”

“That’s laying it on a bit thick.”

“Maybe, but I’m just trying to illustrate how confident I am.”

“More like stubborn. Don’t worry, your interest in me will soon pass,” Amanda told him, disappointed that she knew she was speaking the truth, even though she wished she wasn’t. He was just killing time between models and debutantes. With the new day, this superstar would go back to his world of pomp and accolades. She wasn’t interested in the dubious distinction of sleeping with him just for claiming the honor of having done so.

“I don’t think so, angel,” he replied. “I’m a little more one-track-minded than that. All you have to do is say yes, it’ll make it easier for both of us.”

“I beg to differ, Mr. Walker,” she corrected him. “The way I see it, all I have to do is make it through to closing while dodging your cheesy advances.”

But she had been wrong. The next day, Chase came back. Soon after opening, before the dinner rush, he arrived alone, wearing jeans and a button-down with his shirttail out. He’d dressed it up with an expensive-looking, soft gray leather vest that his biceps swelled out of. He took the same seat he had at the bar the night before. Then he proceeded to stay until closing.

“This is ridiculous,” Amanda told him a little after eight, after he’d been there for more than three hours. She wanted to sound annoyed, but was secretly flattered. Not only was he pleasant and wonderful to look at, but he was also just so good with the banter. They had developed an easy rapport that she was beginning to find engaging.

“I know.” Chase even managed to gripe with delight. “I can’t believe you’re making me do this. At least I’m getting the lowdown on you.”

Eric took that precise moment to find his way to the other end of the bar after an apologetic shrug and a sheepish “It was all good.” Amanda crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes at him as he walked away before turning back to Chase.