Dating For Decades (11 page)

“Don’t make it sound like it’s the worst possible way to spend your evening.”

Keith chuckles in the background. I guess I could have been a little less forceful with my answer. “Sorry. I didn’t mean for it to sound that way.”

“How about you meet me at The Spot around six?”

We’re done here at five, but I’m sure I’ll have enough to keep me busy until then. That gives Keith a little extra time to work as well. “That’s sounds great.”

“Okay! I’m looking forward to it. Keith, nice to meet you and I’ll let you get back to it.” He gives a small wave and leaves the room. Good. I can get back to discussing the plans with Keith.

“Sounds like you have yourself a date tonight.” Keith sits down and taps his fingers on the chair.

“What? This is not a date. We’re simply having a meeting to discuss projects that need to be done.” I’m glad, too. I don’t want him upstaging me every chance he gets. Maybe we can even come up with some ideas to present to Terrence together. Become a power team. But then we have to work together, not against one another. This can be a great opportunity if I use it correctly.

He shakes his head. “Nope.” He accentuates the P with a popping sound. “That Lucas guy is into you.”

“I highly doubt it. And even if he is, he’s
way
too young for me.” I’m
not
a cougar. I’m into guys my own age. Mature men who own their own homes and can buy a car and their own alcohol. Sure. Lucas
can
buy his own drinks, but barely. “Didn’t you come here to work?” I pull my lips together to avoid a smile.

“Hey, I’m only calling it like I see it. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s the next person you talk about in our meeting.”

Whoa. This is territory he doesn’t have permission to hone in on yet. We’ve known each other all of a few weeks and he’s trying to judge me? The smile I almost cracked is now tucked far away. “Do me a favor. Let’s keep the meetings and work separate from each other. I don’t want to co-mingle the two.”

He slips the paper from my desk and rolls it back up, tucking it under his arm. “Like you don’t want to mix business with pleasure like you are tonight?”

“Please leave my office and start working.” I don’t have to sit and listen to this. He doesn’t know my work ethic or beliefs. And I don’t need to defend myself to him, either.

“Are you always this bossy?” He asks as he stands up, sliding his hands into his pockets with a big grin.

“I’m
not
bossy.” Sure, I may be a manager, but being a manager doesn’t automatically make me bossy.

“Oh, yes, I remember now. Women refer to that as being leaders now, right? You don’t like to be called that anymore.”

I can’t believe this guy. So not only is he sarcastic and kind of a jerk, but he’s also sexist. He’s giving me a deal on the work, but that doesn’t give him the right to talk to me that way. “Where do you get your news? Twitter?” I doubt he even knows what Twitter is with his small town attitude. “Anyway, here’s an entry card into the server room. You’ll need this to get in and out. If you walk out of my office and make a left, you can take the stairs to the basement.”

“You’re banishing me to the basement?”

“That’s where the server room is.” And good riddance. Then I don’t have to deal with his chauvinism.

He takes the key from my hand. “Okay, then. I’m sure I won’t see you down there. I don’t think you’re someone who would find her way to the basement.”

“Trust me, I’ve been down there plenty of times. I’ve spent days down there. Be here when there’s an outage of some sort.” I don’t know why I’m letting him get to me and finding it necessary to defend myself.
 

“Have fun on your date tonight.”

As he leaves the room, I shout, “It’s not a date!”

At least I don’t think it is.

Chapter

Fourteen

I’m out the door a few minutes before six, and Lucas is already there. He’s sitting at the bar with a drink in his hand and, surprisingly, not talking to anybody. The way he is at work I assumed he would be more sociable and chatting with at least the bartender, if not women who probably flock to him. I’ve imagined him as the frat guy always surrounded by a group of sorority sisters. He’s the life of the party, kicking butt at beer pong, the crowd shouting his name. Never did I consider he’d be the lone patron at the bar.

I tap him on the shoulder and he turns his head to me. “I actually thought that I would beat you here.”

“I didn’t have a doubt in my mind that I would be here first. I’m always on time.”

I slide onto the barstool. “Me, too. Most days I’m early. It’s not even six yet.”

“A woman who is early? You don’t need all that extra time to work on your hair and makeup?”

What is it with men today? Do I have a sign around my neck that states I enjoy being talked to like this? “That’s a pretty sexist comment.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you.” He grabs a beverage napkin and places it in front of me. “For what it’s worth, I think you look pretty fine.”

Fine
. I forgot about our age difference for like a minute. That’s a term I would never use. “Thank you.” I won’t decline the compliment. Those are hard to come by these days.

“Besides, I should admit that I snuck out early.”

“Which you were able to do because you’re the boss’ pet.”

“I’m
hardly
Terrence’s pet. Just because we’re related doesn’t mean he’ll treat me any differently than he treats you.”

I order a gin and tonic while I formulate my response. “Actually, that’s exactly what it means. Of course he’ll treat you differently. He’ll listen to your ideas more than he’ll listen to mine, and he’ll consider all of your ideas first. I’m sure you’ll never run into any issues with him.”

“My uncle happens to adore you.”

“Your uncle? So you’re referring to him as your uncle now?”

“I guess I can. We’re not at work.”

“But technically this is a work function between you and me.”

“Is it?” He takes a drink and smiles at me when he sets it down on the counter.

I take my drink from the bartender and hold it in my hand, the glass cold against my skin. Damn if Keith wasn’t right. Lucas thinks this is a date. “Yes. This is a work meeting. That’s it. Nothing more.” Let’s get that out of the way.

Lucas cocks his head and rests his head on his hand. “You don’t like me very much, do you?”

My drink slides down my throat wrong, and I begin coughing. I pat my chest as I try to regain control.
 

“Are you okay?” He slaps my back like I’m a baby, forcing me to put my hands up to ask him to stop.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I ask the bartender for a glass of water and that soothes my now scratchy throat. “I’m surprised by your question, that’s all.”

“Really? I think your dislike for me is pretty obvious.”

“I don’t dislike you, Lucas.” Do I? He’s interrogating me, his magical eyes winning me over minute by minute, his smooth skin begging for me to touch it. I want to hate him. I want to
strangle
him. But the woman in me wants to rip his clothes off and touch every inch of what’s underneath. Damnit, why am I so attracted to him? His gorgeous face combined with his rippling body and sharp brain make him hard to resist physically. So
do
I dislike him? Because he wants to take my job, yes. Otherwise, I want every part of him.

“Come on, now.” He crosses his arms and leans back on his stool. “The second I waltzed into your office you had my head on a stick. Why?”

I’m warming up to him, slowly, but my desire to see him fail isn’t something I want to discuss. I switch from my water back to my drink, finish it off, and order another.
 

“Slow down. We’ve only just gotten here. You may want to moderate yourself when it comes to your drinks.”

“You have no idea what I can handle.” This young kid hasn’t seen anything in life, raised in a well-off family and earning scholarships to big schools and jobs landing in his lap. Try living without knowing who your father is, a drug-addict mother, and then after freeing yourself from it all, spiraling into a life of overeating. I overcame it, and that’s why I’m a survivor.
 

“Is that a challenge?”

I really didn’t mean for it to sound that way. “Lucas, you’re like, what, twenty-two years old?”

“Just turned last week.”

“You’re a baby.”

“Last time I checked I feed myself, rent my own apartment, have a full-time job, and am built like a man.”

Even though a young man lies beneath those clothes, I don’t doubt he’s built like a man in every sense of the word. But he’s seventeen years younger than me. That is wrong on so many levels. “It doesn’t change the fact that we work together. So let’s enjoy our drinks together and discuss work like we intended.”

“I never intended to talk about work. This isn’t a job interview.” His demeanor changes to that of a professional recruiter. “Where do you see yourself in five years? What goals have you set out to accomplish? What is your greatest strength? What is your greatest weakness?” He teases me in a deep, serious tone. “Really, Cassie, there’s not much to discuss. The pilot project was the main project, which I have now taken over, and now you’re focusing on your smaller projects while I put my energy into this one.”

He’s one-hundred percent correct. There really is nothing for us to discuss. “I guess I’ll finish my drink then and get out of here.”

“Why? Why don’t you stay and we can get to know each other? You don’t have anything going on.”

“How do you know that?”

“Well, for one you agreed to meet me here so that tells me you don’t have anywhere else to be. Just stay and have a few drinks. No strings attached.”

I don’t get out very often unless it’s with Shannon, and that’s so hard to accomplish half the time with all of her kid’s activities. And ever since my cousin got engaged, she kind of fell off the face of the earth. Now that she’s married, I never see her. I don’t hang out with anyone from my Dating for Decades group, so unless I do want to go home and watch
Dancing with the Stars
by myself, I guess this really is all I have to do. Although I’m not totally against lying on my couch and watching TV. At least I can open up my iPad and get some work done.

“Come on, Cassie. Just do it.”

“Peer pressure and a Nike slogan. I guess you sold me.”

“Great. Let’s get you a refill.”

“Should we grab a table?” My butt is getting sore from sitting on the barstool.
 

“No. Let’s stay here. I like the bar.”

We’re so close to one another I can practically feel his breath on my neck. I curve my body to the right so I distance myself a little. “Fine.” I loop my feet around the bars on the bottom of the stool. He scoots his stool over. I have to say something. “I’m okay with sticking around for a while, but enough with the flirting, though, okay?”

“Flirting? I’m not flirting.” He puts his hand to his chest and raises his voice. “If I were flirting,” he leans in, “you’d know.”

He whispers the words and I know right then and there he’s telling me something. I’ll ignore it. If I don’t show interest, maybe he’ll stop. “So, what would you like to talk about?”

“It’s not like I have a list to pull out of my pocket.”
 

“You were the one who wanted me to get a refill. You direct the conversation.” He seems like the kind who wants to take charge. I’ll let him do so right now.

“Okay.” He scratches his chin as he thinks up a topic. “Tell me how you got started at the company.”

I cross my legs and there he goes looking at them again. “Well, I started at the help desk like
most
tech people.” I don’t think he even pays attention to the fact that I’ve emphasized the word most. He should have started off at the help desk as well. But, that’s neither here nor there at this point. “I worked my way up the ladder. I built a relationship with your uncle, and proved myself to him many times over.”

“He speaks very highly of you.”

“Does he speak of me often?” I can’t think of any circumstance why Terrence would even need to discuss me with anybody in his family.

“When I spoke with him about coming on, he raved about you. He really did struggle with giving me the main portion of the pilot project.”

My eyes leave his and I focus on my glass. Knowing Terrence didn’t hand the job to him without any thought has me rethinking my stance on Lucas. Could it be he’s not a bad guy? I may have allowed my anger mask my image of him. I know he didn’t have some master plan from years ago to come and take my job. Things worked out in his favor he ended up here. Should I hold his success against him?

“He knows how important it is to you, and that you would do a great job with it. But I think he has the impression you’re overworked.”

“Overworked? How do you mean?” I’m refocused on him, shocked over what I’m hearing. I think I do a pretty damn good job of holding myself together and meeting deadlines. This project got the best of me, and it has never happened before. I’m professional, ethical, and focused. You don’t get where I am today by being the opposite. I can’t imagine a time I could have come across as burned out, or close to it anyway.

“You work all the time. My uncle is the Chief Technology Officer and he doesn’t even work as much as you do. Let me guess. If you were at home right now, instead of out with a handsome guy like me, you’d be sitting at home, with your laptop, and working.”

I look down at my drink. And then I take one. And then another one.

“Ha! I totally got it right didn’t I? You’re a workaholic. They have groups for that you know.”

I’m not about to admit that I already belong to a group for women thirty and over who haven’t been in a committed relationship and don’t think they ever will be. Although I suppose now it’s just people and not just women since Keith came along. “Enough about me. You seem to have a very high opinion of yourself. Tell me something that you’re bad at. What
can’t
Lucas do?”

“I would say I’m not able to get you to go out on a date with me, but, it seems we’re already here, whether you think so or not. There’s not a lot that I’m
not
able to do. I truly believe that if you put your mind to something, you can make it happen.”