As soon as they exited the restaurant, he did drop a light kiss on her lips, but then quickly stepped away.
“I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist,” she said.
He arched one eyebrow at her.
“Me. I have a power over you,” she said.
“You do? We can talk about this power tonight,” he said.
“Yes, we can,” she agreed. “I have a lot of things I want to talk to you about.”
“I’ll bet you do,” he said.
The elevator arrived and they both got in and rode it to the ground floor. Once they stepped outside the lobby, Conner saw his car waiting. “Do you want me to have Randall take you back to your office after he drops me at my meeting?”
“No, thanks. I’ll take a cab,” she said.
He couldn’t resist kissing her again and for that very reason almost didn’t do it, but he was in control of this arrangement and his own body. So he kissed her to prove to himself that he could stop if he wanted to.
“Until tonight.”
He got in the back of the waiting Rolls Royce Phantom and glanced back only once as Randall drove away. He saw Nichole standing there with her hand on her mouth watching his car. Then she shook her head and turned and started walking in the opposite direction.
His cell phone rang and he glanced at the caller ID. It was his mom. Probably the last person he should be talking to right now when he was feeling … not any particular thing, just feeling emotions. For so long he’d pretended that he was aloof and didn’t feel the same way other people did.
Often he felt superior by his ability to keep his emotions out of his daily life. But he knew now that it was only the fact that he’d never met a woman like Nichole before. She tempted him in ways that had nothing to do with sex.
He answered the call. “Hi, Mom.”
“Are you busy, Conner?” she asked.
Even though he’d told her he wouldn’t answer if he couldn’t talk, she always asked him that. “No. What’s up?”
“I’m having a charity open house in Bridgehampton this weekend and I want you to come.”
“What day?”
“Saturday, but I was thinking you could come down Friday night and stay until Sunday and you can bring that reporter you had dinner with at your sister’s house the other night.”
“How do you know about that?”
“Janey. She doesn’t mind talking to me every day.”
He was annoyed with his sister for telling their mom about Nichole. “Did she mention she’s dating Palmer?”
“Is she? No, she didn’t. I guess I’ll include him in my weekend invitation, too. Oh, this will be so nice. Both of you home and with—”
“Mom, I will come to the event on Saturday but I can’t make it for the entire weekend.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes, is there anything else?”
“Jane said you and Nichole Reynolds really hit it off. Did you?”
“Yes, we did. But it’s not serious,” he said.
“It never is with you,” she said with a forlorn sigh. “I would like grandkids one day.”
“Janey can give them to you, too,” Conner said.
“I think she’s waiting for a sign from you that life is okay,” his mom said.
That couldn’t be true. “I don’t see why. She’s better at making a home than I ever was.”
“You both have created what you felt was missing when everything happened with your father. You created financial security for all of us and Janey the perfect house. But it’s not enough, and I don’t know what to do to show you both that.”
Conner didn’t like hearing what his mom had to say. He knew that he put money first and had made interpersonal relationships a distant second. He hadn’t gotten to be thirty-five by not knowing what made him tick, but it hurt to hear his mom sum it up that way.
“I’ll be there on Saturday,” he said. “And I will be bringing Nichole Reynolds. I’ve got to go now, Mom. Love you.”
He hung up before she could say anything more. After the lunch with Nichole, the last thing he needed was an emotional discussion with his mom. He wasn’t sure how it had happened, but his tidy little life had suddenly been thrown upside down. Actually, he did know how it had happened and exactly who was to blame—Nichole Reynolds.
Nichole had taken the subway back to her office, hoping that by being around other people she’d be less likely to get stuck in her own head. But it didn’t work. She was still unsure of what she’d agreed to with Conner and the more time she spent thinking about it, the worse that knot of tension in her stomach became.
She had had a number of uncomfortable conversations with people over the years. She had gotten to be such a good reporter by asking tough questions, but she’d never had to discuss her personal life with her boss before and she knew she was going to have to do that today.
She had the distinct feeling that her own knowledge of what she’d agreed to with Conner was coloring her feelings on the issue, but she couldn’t help that.
She took the stairs up to her floor instead of the elevator, no doubt to put off the inevitable. But as luck would have it, her boss was in his office when she stopped by to see him.
“Do you have a minute?” she asked.
“I’ve got a few. What do you need?” he asked.
She stepped into his office and closed the door behind her. Ross Kleeman had started as reporter a long time ago and he’d managed to keep America Today vibrant and profitable. Many newspapers hadn’t made the transition to the web-based editions as skillfully as America Today, thanks in large part to Ross.
“Well, two things. The first is that I got an interview with Conner Macafee. I see this as a two-part story. The first will focus on his matchmaking company, featured in the new Sexy & Single television show. And the second will be a color piece on how the scandal with his father influenced his business and personal choices.”
“Wow. How’d you get him to agree to that? And what do you mean by color piece?” Ross asked.
“How I got him to agree kind of ties into the second thing I wanted to tell you—Conner and I are dating. Is that going to be a problem?”
Ross leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “We can disclose your relationship when we print the articles. That should take care of any ethics issues. So he agreed to let you write about that because you’re dating?”
Nichole nodded. “For the second piece, I’m going to rely on my own observations, since he won’t talk to me about the scandal with his father. But I can see how it has influenced the choices that Conner has made. To some extent I can see that in his sister, too.”
“Interesting. Depending on the type of story you end up writing, we might be able to run it in the Weekend Magazine edition.”
“Okay. I don’t intend it to be an exposé. It’ll be a longer version of my usual column,” she said.
“See what you come up with. And think feature piece instead of column when you’re writing,” Ross said. “Was that all?”
“Yes,” she said, heading out of his office.
She walked back to her cubicle and stowed her purse in her desk while turning on her computer. She got out her cell