“The long version.” He coughed for effect. “I’m referring to answers.”
“Gee, glad you clarified that.” She grinned and looked away. “But I’m not sure what’s in it for me, other than I get to keep a little of my mystique.”
“You get to ask me a question of your choosing.”
“Any question?”
Her eyes narrowed in a way he found worrisome. But Finn nodded. Being an enigma wasn’t all that important to him. His name already had been dragged through the mud publicly. If she hadn’t put it together yet, she would. Eventually.
“Sure. Any question. Well?”
“Deal.” She clinked her coffee mug against his before setting it aside. Then she put out her hands. “On the count of three?”
This time when they finished, her fingers were curled in a fist for a rock. He’d gone with paper. Again. This time, he’d won.
“Paper covers rock.” He cupped his palm over her fist, kept it there. The contact was warm, inviting.
“What do you want to know?” she asked quietly.
Finn thought about the questions he would like to have answered, including the one that she’d already evaded.
But what he asked was, “Are you seeing anyone?”
* * *
Are you seeing anyone?
That was what he wanted to know?
Was she flattered by Finn’s interest? Check.
Turned on by it? Ditto.
Worried? Ding! Ding! Ding!
Concern topped the list, which was why she replied with a mood-killing “This...isn’t a good time.”
“For what?” he persisted. “I’m just trying to get the lay of the land. If you’re seeing someone...” He put up his hands as he slouched back in his chair.
It was more for her own benefit than his that she told him, “I think we got off on the wrong foot.”
“How so?” He looked genuinely confused, genuinely contrite. “Have I done or said anything to offend you?”
“No. Nothing.”
In the very short time they’d known one another, Finn had done everything right, coming as close to perfect as any man ever had when measured against Lara’s exacting post-divorce standards. And that made him dangerous. Especially right now.
“Here’s the thing, Finn. I know where I stand with Ryder and Angel and the rest of the chefs in the competition. They’d poach my liver if they thought it would help their cause. But you...”
“My motives are suspect.”
“No! Yes. I don’t know.” And she couldn’t afford to find out.
“Well, at least you’re sure.” His accompanying grin took the sting out of his otherwise sarcastic reply.
She sighed. “I’m not making sense.”
“It’s okay. I think I know what you mean, Lara. The timing is wrong.”
The timing was definitely wrong. How could she start a relationship with a man when she couldn’t even be truthful with him about her last name?
She tried a second time to put into words what she herself barely understood.
“I really need to win.”
“I know. I need it myself.” He swallowed. “Nothing can...nothing will stand in the way.”
They were on the same page, quoting practically the same verse. Leave it at that. But she didn’t. Couldn’t.
“I’m not seeing anyone, Finn. I haven’t been seriously involved with anyone since... Well, in a long time. And I’d be lying if I claimed I don’t find you attractive. But...let’s just skip ahead to the bottom line.”
Lara’s fingers squeezed the ceramic mug until she wondered that it didn’t shatter into tiny pieces. “I think it would be best if we stopped whatever is going on between us before it starts.”
With her gaze glued to her half-eaten biscotto, she waited for him to argue with her. In fact, she found herself hoping he would.
But what Finn said was “You’re right. Too much is at stake.”
“Yes. For both of us.”
After reaching that conclusion, they spent the next fifteen minutes awkwardly tripping over the elephant in the room as they attempted polite conversation and finished their coffees.
Finn picked up the tab. Lara plunked down a tip. Outside the shop, they stood in the muggy late-afternoon heat while she waited for a cab. When one finally sidled to the curb, they both reached for the handle. It was déjà vu, except for Finn’s expression. His smile held no humor or bemusement. Only regret as oppressive as the humidity.
“Let me get the door for you,” he said.
After she slid onto the seat, he didn’t kiss her, but he did lean inside. “Rain check?”
“What?”
“If...when one of us is eliminated... What do you say? Rain check?”
“I... Okay.” Holding back her grin, she added, “I’ll take you out for drinks to commiserate when you’ve been voted off the show.”
FIVE
Let marinate
“How did the other night go with your client?”
It was Friday and nearly time to knock off after a second long day of taping interviews that would air both on the television program and the show’s website. Other than a couple of hellos, these were the first words Lara had said to him since coffee on Wednesday.
Finn didn’t think she was ignoring him. The contestants had been kept extremely busy the past couple of days. And some of the taping they’d done had taken them away from the studio for several hours with their own camera crews.
Besides, after that bit of awkwardness at the coffee shop two days before, they’d left things on a friendly, flirty note.
He still wanted to give his forehead a thump over the question he’d asked her. Of all the things he could have had her clarify for him, her single status had topped the list?
Way to be subtle and smooth, Westbrook.
He wouldn’t claim to be recovered from his divorce, even if he had moved on personally and was trying to do the same professionally. He doubted a person got over a betrayal like the one Sheryl and Cole had dealt him, first with their affair and later by cheating him out of his business.
But Finn felt good, relieved even, knowing he could feel again. Even so, he remained a little off-kilter over his attraction for Lara.
She was wearing her hair back today, pulled into a neat ponytail at the base of her neck. The look could have made her appear no-nonsense or girlish even. But sexy? It was just Finn’s bad luck that was how she struck him. He’d had a hard time concentrating whenever he’d caught a glimpse of her in the studio.
He’d always been a butt man, with legs coming a close second in terms of the body parts that drew his eye on a woman. In Lara’s case, he liked everything, even her neck, which was long, slender, graceful and, thanks to the hairdo, accessible, as well.
“Finn?”
He realized he was staring. “Um, dinner. It went well. She had me prepare lamb chops for her guests.”
“How many were there