Underfoot. Leanne Banks

Underfoot - Leanne Banks


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and automatically quickened her pace.

      He pulled out her chair for her. “Busy day?”

      “The usual,” she said, taking her seat and thinking she didn’t remember him being so tall.

      He sat across from her. She didn’t remember his shoulders being quite so wide. She did remember the intensity in his eyes, his mouth, and the way he had kissed her that night. Frustration had mixed with some kind of carnal wanting. She’d felt the same way, frustrated from the insane almost-wedding day and curious to find out how he would handle a woman. How he would handle her. He must have felt some curiosity, too. The first time had been fast, but there had been a second. And a third.

      Trina felt a rush of heat. The sensation reminded her of how two glasses of wine affected her, the warmth that spread from her chest to her face and the way her heartbeat accelerated. It was the memory of wild sex, she told herself. It wasn’t specifically Walker.

      A waiter approached their table. “I’ll take a beer. Whatever you have on tap,” Walker said and turned to her. “What do you like? Martini?” he asked and looked at her for a long moment. “No, it was something else,” he said, shaking his head with a wry grin. “Mojito.”

      The fact that he’d remembered her drink gave her a thrill. A very stupid thrill, she told herself. “It’s different now. I’ve turned into a lightweight. Pinot Grigio,” she said to the waiter.

      “Lightweight,” Walker echoed curiously. “When did that happen?”

      “A while ago,” she said with a shrug and wished she had a glass so she could do something with her hands. Should she tell him before the waiter returned or after?

      He nodded. “Okay. So what have you been doing for the last year and a half?”

      Having a baby. Not quite right, she thought, looking away from his expectant gaze. “Working, moving. How was Paris?” she asked, turning the conversation away from her.

      “Good.”

      The waiter returned with their drinks and she fiddled with the stem of her wineglass. “Hard to come back?”

      “Yes and no. It was time and I didn’t want to lose Bellagio.”

      She lifted her glass to her lips. “It’s just another account, isn’t it? With the bonus of public humiliation and a few bad memories.”

      He paused a half beat and studied her carefully. “I could almost think you didn’t want me around,” he said in a silky but cold voice.

      “Of course not,” she said, forcing the words from her throat. “Everyone knows you’re great at what you do. I just thought you might prefer to avoid the discomfort.”

      “I did that,” he said and took a long draw from his beer. “The marriage to Brooke didn’t work out and that was for the best, but I’m not losing Bellagio over a failed engagement.”

      Trina’s stomach sank at the steel in his tone. She couldn’t imagine how he would respond to her announcement that he was the father of her baby.

      “Speaking of Bellagio, I wanted to show you some of the models I’m using for the commercial.” He reached into his pocket for his PalmPilot and turned it on. He pushed some buttons and handed it to her. “What do you think?”

      She looked at the headshot of a toothy blonde. “Pretty,” she said. “But we’re not going for perfect,” she added. “We’re going for Ms. And Mr. Everyday who can clean up nicely.”

      He nodded. “Don’t want to be intimidating.”

      “Right,” she said and took a sip of her wine, mentally girding herself. “There have been some changes. I need to talk about them with you.”

      He leaned closer. “At Bellagio,” he said.

      She moved her head in a circle. “More with me, and it’s something you should know. I, uh. We, uh—”

      “Walker Gordon, when did you get back in town?” a woman’s flirty Southern drawl oozed from a few steps away.

      Trina glanced at her perfectly groomed and coiffed former classmate, Blair Smythe Manning Davis, twice divorced.

      “Blair—” he said, obviously searching for her last name as he stood.

      She beamed, her porcelain veneers gleaming as white as chalk. “You remembered me. The last time we met we were both committed, but you’re single now and so am I.” She shot a quick dismissing glance in Trina’s direction. “It’s been so long since you and I have seen each other, Walker. Would you mind if I join you? Or am I interrupting something important?” she asked as an afterthought.

      Walker looked at Trina. “We’re discussing business.”

      Blair made a clucking sound and tapped her diamond-encrusted watch. “It’s way past five o’clock. Quitting time,” she said and pulled a chair from another table.

      Walker helped Blair with the chair. She smiled at him as she sat down then glanced again at Trina. “Hello, I’m Blair—”

      “Davis,” Trina finished because she couldn’t resist.

      Blair blinked and she studied Trina.

      “Trina Roberts,” she said, rescuing the woman. “You and I went to the same girls’ school.”

      “Oh,” Blair said and gave a hesitant smile. “I’ll have to look you up in my yearbook.”

      “I’ve let my hair grow and I was a couple years behind you,” Trina couldn’t resist adding, noticing that Blair looked razor thin and had a man-eater look in her eyes. Her hair was highlighted platinum and her skin faux-tanned just this side of oompha-loompha. Two husbands down, ready for number three. She wondered if blood dripped from Blair’s incisors at night.

      “Really?” Blair said in disbelief and gave a forced laugh. “I’ll definitely have to dig out my yearbook. But enough about me. Walker, make my dream come true and tell me you’re back in town for good?”

      He shot a look of discomfort toward Trina and cleared his throat. “I’m back for good.”

      “That’s great. The Walthams are hosting a party this weekend. You absolutely must come with me.”

      “I’m still settling in,” he said.

      She gave an exaggerated pout. “You can do that anytime. I just want to borrow you on Saturday night. For starters, anyway,” she added with a seductive glint in her eye.

      And so it went for twenty more minutes while Trina nursed her little glass of wine and contributed eleven nods and eight uh-huhs. The ball of apprehension in her chest turned to irritation in her stomach.

      Tonight was clearly not the night that she would tell Walker about Maddie. She glanced at her watch and was forced to interrupt Blair’s latest combination of gossip and flirting. “Excuse me. I hate to say this, but I have some other plans this evening, so I need to leave.”

      She stood and Walker rose to his feet. “Let me walk you to your car.”

      “Not necessary. I can find it on my own.”

      “I need to cover a couple more things with you,” he said, frustration edging into his tone.

      “Let’s try meeting at my office. Give me a call in the morning.”

      “I’ll still walk you out.”

      “What a gentleman,” Blair said. “Let him walk you out and he can come back and chat with me.”

      Trina gave a tight smile. “Okay. It was great seeing you Blair. You look more amazing than ever.”

      “Thank you. What a sweetie you are.”

      Trina headed out of the bar, feeling Walker catch up to her in just a few strides.

      “Were


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