“That was weirdly romantic. And a little insulting. Which I think may be your strategy—be charming and offensive at the same time to keep women off balance.”
“I’ve relied on my looks and my fortune in the past. Perhaps it’s time I tried this new strategy.”
“The offer is still off the table. Thank you for the shoes.”
“You’ll keep them.”
“If you insist, then yes. But please stop sending gifts, Luke.”
Paige left him standing at her desk, staring after her.
Chapter 6
PAIGE WAS A CHALLENGE. He remembered how the air between them crackled with energy. It was electric. Memorable. Mind-blowing.
Still, that didn’t explain why he found his beautiful current date so incredibly dull. She was an heir to her late father's multibillion-dollar fortune and would look good on his arm. He was told the society world would love her, worship her.
He frowned as she showed him pictures of a murky, purple milkshake.
“It was the most gorgeous smoothie ever. Acai berries, pomegranate, kale, just a little coconut oil blended with ice. Amazing,” she said, swiping to show him photos of it from different angles. It looked disgusting.
“I don’t care for smoothies,” he said tightly.
“What about sushi? I had some really next level sushi last night,” she said, undeterred, and flicked back to pictures of her supper plate. It was a small white square that displayed three tiny pieces of sashimi. He made what he hoped were appropriately admiring noises.
“Not sushi either? Get out your phone. Show me what you had for dinner,” she demanded.
“I don’t take pictures of my food. I just eat it and assume no one wants to see a photograph of it.”
“How many followers do you even have on Insta?” she asked with disdain.
“I have no idea. I don’t have a personal Instagram account. My image occasionally appears on the Conners company account, like my recent visit to the Tokyo office. I understand it was popular with stockholders and followers alike.”
“Really? What was Tokyo like?”
“Crowded. I saw a nice landscaped park from the taxi. Otherwise, it was narrow lanes and skyscrapers, small offices and smaller hotel rooms. I felt like a giant.”
“Are people in Tokyo short?” the woman asked.
“Not generally, no. I’m American and used to more space. That was what I meant.”
I want more than beauty, he thought.
Luke wanted someone who made him laugh, someone he had a connection with, somebody who wasn’t this obnoxious. This definit
ely wasn’t the woman for him. He didn’t want to seem rude, but he wished he was anywhere but here...on this date, on this horrible date.
“Did you have sushi while you were there?”
“Probably. It was a whirlwind of meetings and receptions and speeches. I hardly know what I ate or if I ate at all.”
“Oh, Luke, how could you miss out on all that culture? Not even remembering if you ate at all!”
“I suppose if I’d taken photos of all my meals I could reconstruct the trip better for you. As it is, I’m afraid I have an early meeting,” he said, standing up to gesture for the bill. He’d wasted an entire hour on this one with her milkshake pictures and her opinions about Tokyo and about him, and the fact that he didn’t sufficiently appreciate kale. What had Magnus been thinking, suggesting this woman for a twelve-month marriage when he could hardly endure sixty minutes with her?
This was the third one. He felt depressingly like a judge at a dog show, studying the form and accomplishments of a blameless but uninteresting breed. On the way back to the office, he saw a message on his phone from a number he didn’t recognize. He opened it and saw a photo—not of a kale smoothie, but of the top of someone’s foot in a pink shoe. “I wore them tonight when I went out to dinner with girlfriends. Thanks again, Paige.”
He smiled despite himself and messaged back, “Your foot is the most exciting thing I’ve seen tonight. Had to look at pics of my date’s former meals.”