I don’t even want to chance looking down at her body. Fuck, too late. With our height difference, my eyes fall straight into her cleavage. Chloe is petite in stature, but she’s got curves. Those curves are accentuated in this dress. Full breasts, trim waist, soft hips. My hand itches to reach out and trace the outline of her hip. To press my fingers into the forgiving flesh there, move along her side body to feel the contrast between her rib cage and the softness of her breasts before settling them in the indented space above her hip. I shouldn’t be looking at her like this. I should be focused on how the hell we’re going to make it through this dinner.

“Sex?” I ask, not remembering what we were talking about but more what I was imagining.

“What?” she asks, clearly confused. Her brain is obviously not being controlled by her nether regions. “No. I’m saying I’ve never had to pretend to like a guy before. This,” she motions between us, “is new to me.”

Right. “That’s normal. I’ve never had to pretend to be interested in a woman either.” Except, whether I want to admit it or not, I am attracted to Chloe. Based on my reaction to Chloe in her dress, or the fact that I couldn’t get the image of her in that sparkly dress she was in last night out of my head, I won’t have to pretend. She doesn’t need to know that.

Chloe doesn’t leave the conversation there. “I guess maybe it’s hard for you, too, right? I’m not exactly your favorite person.” She laughs, more at ease now that she thinks this is challenging for me as well.

“Definitely,” I say, looking away from her, glad to be done with the conversation. Something will be hard and it won’t be pretending to be close with Chloe.

I reach for Chloe’s hand. “Okay, show time.”

“I actually have to pee.” She smiles sheepishly.

“Right. I’ll meet you out there.”

I watch Chloe disappear into the ladies’ room then move to make my way back to the table. I need to get my head on straight, remember the goal of tonight. Show Fred Hinkle that I’m exactly the kind of guy he can entrust his company to. I need to forget about the slight attraction I have to Chloe. Or better yet, use it to make our relationship believable.

I glance back toward the restrooms and find that Chloe is making her way over to the table.

It’s impossible for my eyes to not lower to where the material of her dress inches up with every stride. She’s far from runway model height, yet in her high heels she looks like she’s making her way down a catwalk.