Stephanie Evanovich - The Sweet Spot

“Their opinions could be biased. They work for me.”

“Then you better let me take you out so I can draw my own conclusions. If you’d just give me your digits, I’d be on my way.”

“Then what?” she asked him.

“You’re going to have to say yes to find out,” he said, smiling.

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I’m going to have to keep coming back here until I change your mind.”

Amanda laughed. “I almost want to see that.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” he warned her.

And after politely rebuffing him again, Chase went about the business of doing just that. Every day he was in town, he found his way to the Cold Creek Grille. She started keeping his table open, and he began having all his dinners there. He sometimes dined with his security, and sometimes they discreetly sat at the bar or a nearby table while he hosted teammates or held other meetings. Kings games and their replays became a staple on the bar’s television.

Chase got to meet Amanda’s parents one night, when they came in after hearing the rumor that Amanda had an unconventional celebrity stalker. Chase had finished eating, but invited them for dessert, fully prepared to plead his case to the judge and the DA. They joined him, giving him a brief and prudent once-over. They were sophisticated and well put together, the DA in a no-nonsense business suit straight out of the courtroom; the judge’s attire straight off the golf course. They spoke about philanthropy and baseball, and Chase asked permission to date their daughter.

“Mr. Walker,” Catherine Cole said in the same sassy tone Amanda used when addressing him by his formal name. What followed it was usually direct and pointed. And the same was true of her mother, even if she was impressed by his candor and manners. “My daughter is a grown woman, she makes her own decisions.”

“Of course, ma’am,” he said, laughing nervously. “But I was really hoping that I could get you to put in a good word.”

Judge Rupert Cole chuckled with humor from across the table. Chase had integrity and humility, traits that were hard to fake if insincere. “Just remember, I can get a restraining order against you at a moment’s notice.”

“She’s hasn’t called the police on me yet, sir.”

And when the verdict came in, they didn’t think Amanda was going to. She was just being cautious, as they agreed she had reason to be. It didn’t stop her parents from telling her they liked him.

CHASE BECAME A permanent fixture at the Cold Creek. After the first week, word started to spread and there was a constant influx of people going there to dine in the hopes of seeing Chase Walker. And they weren’t disappointed. He had dozens of pictures taken and signed countless napkins and random scraps of paper. He even autographed a few body parts. All with one single purpose: trying to score a date with Amanda Cole. The bar stayed crowded the whole time he was there. He learned the names of all the employees and went out of his way to engage them. If he was faking the Average Joe routine, he was an exceptional actor. Two weeks in, it became apparent he wasn’t going to go away.

And it was impossible to deny: He was a wonderful flirt. He was also quick, intelligent, and confident, and every conversation ended with him asking her to join him somewhere, from Bora Bora to the coffee shop around the corner. He looked at her honestly when he did it, like he was soaking her in with his eyes.

Week three of Chase’s staged sit-in began with a snafu that ended up working in his favor. It started on a Wednesday night with a dozen long-stemmed roses surrounded by baby’s breath and arranged in a vase, delivered by the head of his security team. Blue roses, precisely dyed to match the color of Amanda’s eyes, arriving a half hour before he did¸ and a handwritten note that read:

Blue roses symbolize something that is impossible to achieve. Not in my vocabulary. I apologize for the next two hours.

It was vague and ambiguous, and he was already making apologies. The bodyguard, Jack, who often accompanied Chase, dropped them off with the same poker-faced expression he always wore and immediately left. Amanda didn’t bother trying to interrogate him. Jack took his job seriously, and they both knew who signed his paycheck. The note and flowers set her on edge. Unless Chase had planted some vermin and called the health inspector, what could he possibly be sorry for? As the vibrant flowers were admired by everyone who passed them, Amanda’s nerves stretched tighter, despite all her efforts to quell them. When Chase walked through the door, his message became as clear as the imported crystal the roses were presented in. She didn’t know whether to feel insulted or relieved. He gave her a quick, crooked smile while the three other members of his dining party entered after him.

“Well, what do we have here?” Eric snickered quietly from behind the roses at the end of the bar nearest to Amanda’s podium workstation, the only spot roomy enough to keep them from getting in the way. Amanda was suddenly bemused.

Chase Walker had brought a date to the Cold Creek, a date of the waiflike supermodel variety. She was long and lean and stood naturally on six-inch stilettos, making her nearly as tall as he was. Her skirt was a respectable length, but the sequined, belly-button-ringed-revealing tank top was the complete epitome of skimpy. Her skin was porcelain. She looked disinterested, if not snobbish, and in Amanda’s opinion, hungry, as did the other woman who was with them. The only difference was Chase’s date had a mane of flaxen, stylish hair, while the other woman’s was more platinum highlighted. Their superfluous, wispy giggles were exactly the same.

Amanda kept her poise, smiling brightly as the four approached. He was free to bring whomever he wanted to dinner, but flaunting his desirability wasn’t how to earn brownie points with her.

“Good evening, Mr. Walker. I have your table ready.”

“Hi, Amanda,” he greeted her, only the slightest evidence of his discomfort betrayed by his hand-caught-in-the-cookie-jar expression. “I’d like to introduce you to my good friend Logan Montgomery.”

The remaining person in their group stepped forward, hidden behind that first gust of charisma that accompanied Chase. Logan Montgomery was probably the most handsome man on the planet. He was dark and swarthy, with jet-black hair and expressive brown eyes. His skin was so tan it suggested he’d just returned from some exotic island. His face was classically chiseled and his physique nothing short of astounding. She couldn’t help but stare. His smile was easy as he joined them, but if she’d known him better, she would have noticed he was also suffering from his own faux pas.

Amanda also would have been able to tell by the quickly concealed, edgy glare Chase shot at him, but Logan had the sort of looks that when you saw them for the first time, you needed a moment to take them in. “Logan, this is Amanda Cole, the woman I obviously didn’t tell you enough about.”

“My pleasure, Amanda,” Logan drawled before returning Chase’s look with an amused one of his own. “Sometimes, when texting, one doesn’t get a full picture. For some reason, my host still insisted on dining here.”

Amanda didn’t see the need in letting the introductions continue. Clearly a miscommunication had taken place, and Chase had made his choice with regard to the situation. He apologized ahead of time, which was rather egotistical for someone she wouldn’t give her phone number to, yet incredibly romantic in a peculiar sort of way. And she didn’t want to know anything about either man’s date. Still, he had to have some reason for bringing a date here. Maybe it was a last-ditch effort to illustrate she was missing her opportunity, and Amanda was interested in seeing how the evening played out. She nodded a hello and, grabbing four menus, asked them to please follow her. As she led them to Chase’s regular booth, no mention was made of the glorious bouquet taking up one end of the bar, by either of them. The gentlemen motioned for the ladies to be seated on the inside, and as they slid in, Chase and Amanda’s gazes met and locked. A brief moment passed as Chase took her in, having not seen her for the last two days, Mondays and Tuesdays being the Cold Creek’s “weekend” and was closed. It was the look that he gave her when she was across the room, too far away for them to have a real conversation. The look that suggested he was deep in thought, hinting that some of those thoughts were indecent. Then he did what any gallant gentleman would do.