Maybe she was being too harsh. He was trying very hard to win her over, and for Paul, a limo equaled major points. “The whole day’s going to be like this, isn’t it?”
He nodded. “Extravagance and pampering until you just can’t take another minute of it. I wouldn’t blame you at all if you broke down in tears while having to choose between the lobster and the filet mignon.”
“I’ll be too busy watching the game. You remember. Dodgers? Baseball?”
“Excuse me, who won the trivia contest?”
“By one point.”
“One point was all that was needed.”
She had to give it up and smile. “Conceited much?”
Paul turned more toward her. He was in his version of casual—jeans that fit him to perfection, a T-shirt that had to be a size smaller than was wise—the better to show off his shoulders and impeccable abs. He had a baseball cap on the seat across from them and she wondered if he’d risk ruining that scruffy, terribly chic do by putting it on. He was a living, breathing Abercrombie & Fitch ad.
“Somehow,” he said, “I doubt you’d have been the model of humility if you’d won.”
“I would have been so gracious you’d have choked on it.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “I rest my case.”
Gwen shook her head, thinking he was right. It wasn’t all that bad. If she let herself, she might have a very fine time today. She’d always wanted to watch the game from the suites, and here was her chance. She didn’t want to waste it worrying about Paul’s motives. If he was being a louse, she’d find out soon enough. The opposite might take longer, but eventually his true colors would be visible. For now, all she had to do was relax. Enjoy the swag. Why not?
“You gave in pretty quickly. I’m worried.”
“Don’t be. I decided you were right. I’ve never gone to a game in a limo. It smells very good.”
He laughed, and oh, shit, she’d coached herself over and over in preparation, but it was all for naught. He melted something inside her, something she wanted excised, please, as quickly as possible.
How mortifying after being her, for God’s sake, to be taken in by beauty.
Not only was it wrong, it wasn’t fair.
“For someone who’s decided to have fun, that’s quite a scowl.”
She smiled, trying to mean it. “How come you know so much about baseball?”
He seemed as surprised at the question as she was for asking it. “Loved the game since I was a kid. I played all through school. At one point, I hoped to go all the way, but wasn’t good enough.”
“I’m surprised. I figured you were fabulous at everything.”
“That’s what my parents counted on, but it’s not true. I’ve always been into sports, though. Basketball, rowing, football, for a while at least.”
“Do you still play?”
“Pickup games at the gym, golf, tennis.”
“You should have clicked more with my brothers.”
“I was preoccupied.” He reached into the conveniently placed ice bucket and pulled out a bottle of Heineken. “Beer?”
“I need to pace myself. I have to have a couple of brews watching the game or my boys don’t stand a chance.”
He nodded. “Then by all means. I have some water in here, I think.”
“That’s okay. I’m good.”
“Do you play? Sports, I mean?”
“We have a company softball league. We also play touch football, and we bowl, depending on the season.”
“Sounds as if you do a lot with your coworkers. Anything outside the fold?”
“Not much. The job takes up so much time. It’s a very competitive field.”
He popped the top on his beer and settled back, one leg crooked and on the seat. “Is it all science geeks or do you headhunt for other talent?”
“We have different divisions. We’re one of the top firms in the world, actually. Offices all over the place. Mostly finance, the sciences and high tech.”
“How did you end up there?”
“I majored in chemistry and business. I’m not terribly thrilled with research, so this seemed right.”
“Chemistry, huh?”
She nodded. “I like knowing how to blow things up.”
Paul laughed. “And how often do you put that knowledge into practice?”
“Not as often as I’d like. It’s comforting, however, to know I could if I wanted to.”
He held up his beer. “Hear, hear. I can think of several things I’d like to blow to smithereens.”
She relaxed a bit more, sinking into the soft leather and the smooth ride. If she could just stop thinking about how damn pretty he was, she felt sure she could have herself a banner day.
PAUL OFFERED Gwen the best seat of the bunch. Not that they weren’t all great, but this one, it was primo. He never gave that seat to the women who came with him, knowing they wouldn’t appreciate it, but Gwen? Oh, yeah. She got it.
If only he could stop wishing she was as pretty as her sister.
It shouldn’t matter. Not for a friend. Hell, he shouldn’t be thinking about it at all. He liked her. He did. Still, the wish kept popping up.
And that damn wish kept reminding him about Friday night with Autumn. They’d gone to the party, and she’d been right. It had been a hell of a gathering, as A-list as they come. She’d been flirtatious all night. Unfortunately, she’d shared the wealth with all the men in the room. Normally, that didn’t bother him. Most of his dates understood their power and used it indiscriminately, especially around celebrities. He usually felt an odd pride about that.
Not this time.
He’d been irritated at her blatant sexuality, at her obviousness. When she’d been ready for the final tease with him, he’d been so tired and put off he’d barely tried to get her into bed.
“This is the most amazing place I’ve ever been,” Gwen said, staring down at first base. “And I’ve been to the Parthenon.”
Yep. She totally got it. “You’re right. Wait till the game starts. You’ll never want it to end.”
She tore her gaze from the field to look around. Even though it was one of the smaller suites it could still hold up to twenty guests. Occasionally, he brought that many. Clients and contacts, sometimes his poker buddies. Only once had it been him and a woman, but that had been too distracting. When he came here, he wanted baseball. Pure, simple, as it was meant to be played.
He watched her face as she noticed the screens, with a view from every angle. There was the wet bar and fridge, the hot food station, the round tables behind the front row, each with bowls of peanuts and popcorn and even M&M’s. She ran her hands over the arms of the Aeron chair, and he watched her test the lumbar feature, knowing there wasn’t a more comfortable seat in the whole damn place.
What he also knew was that the thrills were only beginning. The waiters would come in with all manner of delicious food. Dodger Dogs, naturally, but so much more. The beer was ice-cold on tap, the sound from the announcers piped directly in, the action on the field second only to being on the bench.
When she finally looked at him, her smile changed her face. He’d never