“Deal.”
Jake stared.
“Claire.”
“Yes?”
“Why me?”
Her smile faded slightly.
“Because I want you there.”
He waited for more.
None came.
Jake finally nodded.
“One condition.”
“What?”
“If I have to wear clean clothes, you owe me dinner.”
Claire smiled.
“Done.”
She stood.
Then stepped closer than necessary.
Jake did not move.
Claire rested one hand on the edge of the Mustang hood beside his.
“You know…”
“What?”
“You get very serious when you're working.”
“Cars appreciate commitment.”
“I wasn't talking about cars.”
Jake’s eyes moved toward hers.
Claire’s voice softened.
“Do you always become this focused when a woman watches you?”
Jake placed the wrench down.
“You're doing this deliberately.”
“Doing what?”
“Making concentration difficult.”
Claire smiled.
“Is it working?”
Jake looked at her.
Slowly.
Eyes.
Lips.
Back to her eyes.
Claire stopped smiling quite as confidently.
“Yes.”
Jake’s voice had become lower.
“It's working.”
The garage suddenly felt much warmer.
Claire leaned slightly closer.
“Those hands only good with engines?”
Jake laughed under his breath.
“That question sounded a lot less innocent than you meant it to.”
Claire’s eyes held his.
“Maybe I meant it exactly that way.”
Jake's pulse changed.
For one second, neither moved.
Then the sound of tires entered the garage lot.
A black SUV stopped.
Rear door opened.
Two people in suits climbed out.
Claire closed her eyes.
“Damn.”
Jake frowned.
“You know them?”
“Unfortunately.”
A young man rushed inside holding a tablet.
“Ms. Weston.”
Jake looked toward Claire.
She did not react.
The assistant continued:
“The board has moved the acquisition review forward.”
“They need authorization within twenty minutes.”
“The Singapore group is already on the call.”
Jake slowly turned toward Claire.
“Ms. Weston?”
Claire inhaled.
The second assistant approached.
“Weston Global's legal team is asking whether the CEO intends to approve the revised four-point-six-billion-dollar transaction.”
Silence.
Jake stared.
The garage suddenly seemed to amplify every tiny sound.
A cooling engine ticked behind him.
Air compressor hummed.
Somewhere in the back, Lily dropped a wrench.
Claire looked toward Jake.
He lowered the rag in his hand.
“CEO.”
She gave him a small, almost guilty smile.
“Yes.”
“Weston Global.”
“Yes.”
“The Weston Global.”
“That depends how many you know.”
Jake stared.
The assistant shifted uncomfortably.
Claire looked toward him.
“Give us a minute.”
“Ms. Weston—”
“A minute.”
The assistants retreated.
Jake crossed his arms.
Claire already knew that expression.
“You're angry.”
“Observant.”
“Jake.”
“You told me you were in business.”
“I am.”
“That is like saying the Grand Canyon is a hole.”
Claire almost smiled.
Jake did not.
“You came in here.”
“Yes.”
“Sat on milk crates.”
“Yes.”
“Drank three-dollar coffee.”