Huddle With Me Tonight (8 page)

“May I help you, ma’am?” the attendant asked.

“The rest of my party couldn’t make it,” Paige said. “Can I move to one of the smaller tables in the corner?”

“Of course,” the girl answered. She gathered the teapot and trivet from the table. “I will bring you more tea.”

“No, no more tea,” Paige answered. “Actually, you can bring me a drink menu once I’m seated.”

“Of course. Right this way, ma’am.”

Paige rose from the table of four and followed the table attendant. Her step stuttered as she spotted Torrian heading straight toward her.

“Oh, God,” she muttered.
Of all the sushi restaurants in New York…

And, of course, the table attendant was guiding her directly in his path. There would be no escaping him. She could only hope he would ignore her as he made his way to his table.

She should have known better.

He stopped yards away and waited for her. “Good evening,” he greeted as Paige approached.

“Hello, Mr. Smallwood,” Paige said, her voice as unaffected as she could possibly expect it to be considering the situation.

“C’mon, Paige. I think there’s enough history between us to be on a first-name basis by now,” he said with that smile that made her stomach tremble and skin get all tingly.

“I don’t know. I kind of like some of the other names I’ve been calling you,” Paige said.

He barked a laugh. “I definitely don’t want to hear any of those.” He leaned in and said with a stage whisper, “Unless they’re really dirty.”

She shouldn’t engage in this back-and-forth with him, but she found it hard not to fall into the playful tit for tat. “Oh, they are pretty dirty,” Paige said. “Not the way you think, though.”

His smile widened, and there was a definite weakening of her knees.

“If you don’t mind, I was just about to have dinner,” Paige said.

He looked to the table attendant, who’d been standing there watching their exchange with interest. Paige considered deducting a few points from her review of the restaurant for having a nosy waitstaff.

“Are you dining alone?” Torrian asked.

“I am now,” she answered honestly.

“Would you mind some company?” he asked. “
You’re
alone?” The question escaped her mouth before she could temper her surprised tone.

“The last time I took my sister and nephew out for sushi, it didn’t go over too well,” he answered, and with a shrug continued, “I’ve been eyeing this place for a while and decided to finally give it a try. After turning down all my invitations to dinner, I can only assume this is fate stepping in.”

In her book, what he was doing qualified as flirting, but Paige wasn’t sure the same rules applied to charmers with the professional expertise Torrian possessed. She’d seen him unleash that smile on enough fans and reporters to know that reading anything more into it would be a faux pas on her part.

But what about that…
something
that had passed between them before he left her apartment? Tremors of excitement rippled along her skin whenever she thought about his heated gaze. It made her wonder what would have happened if his cell phone had not interrupted them. Would he have left her apartment? Would she have let him?

“So, Paige, can I join you for dinner?” He leaned just a bit more toward her, and lowered his voice. “Maybe we can finish what we were discussing yesterday.”
Which part?
she wanted to ask.

Over the course of the half hour he’d been at her apartment, the air surrounding their discussion had traveled along a spectrum of intimacy that still caused Paige’s breath to hitch. She went from not wanting to invite him into her home, to suffering a moment of sadness when he’d had to leave. How was that even possible?

“For two?” the table attendant asked, an expectant, excited look on her face.

“For two,” Torrian said, and Paige didn’t refute him.

They were guided to a table in a corner, which is what she’d asked for, Paige remembered. It certainly had a different connotation to it now. The attendant waited until they were seated, then presented them with menus. “I will get the drink menu you requested,” she said before leaving.

Paige nodded her thanks, then turned her attention to her new dinner guest. “Did everything turn out okay?” she asked. “You left in a hurry last night.”

He waved away her concern. “My nephew is going through a knucklehead phase. Skipping class, missing curfew, driving his mom crazy. She’s convinced it’s something more than typical teenage stuff, so I had a little heart-to-heart with Dante last night. It’s all good.” Torrian opened his menu. “I’ve heard some good things about this place. The shrimp tempura is supposed to be excellent.”

“I hope so,” Paige said. “I’ve been impressed with the atmosphere so far. If the food lives up to the hype, it’ll make things a lot easier.” At his confused looked, Paige clarified, “I’m reviewing the restaurant for my next column.”

“Ah,” Torrian sat back. “I hope they know not to get on your bad side.” His grin was rueful, but Paige thought she caught a bit of self-deprecation. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I couldn’t help it.”

She felt the need to defend herself. “Negative reviews are not my default.”

“I shouldn’t have said any—”

“People seem to think—”

The attendant returned with the drink menu, interrupting Paige’s rebuttal. They ordered sake for two and two bottles of mineral water.

When the attendant left, Paige continued, determined to make her point. “I don’t go into a review hoping to find things to complain about,” she said.

“I know that,” Torrian said.

“It feels as if I’m getting a reputation for being this ball-busting—”

“Please,” he stopped her, reaching over the small round table and covering her hand with his. “What I said was uncalled for. I can’t seem but to stick my foot in my mouth when I’m around you,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

Her skin burned where he touched it. Her entire body warmed with him so close. “We have gotten off to a rocky start,” Paige agreed, pulling her hand away in an effort to preserve her sanity.

“I’m not the jerk I appear to be.”

“Don’t worry,” Paige laughed. “You’re not the first person to accuse me of bringing out the worse in them.”

“It’s not you, it’s this entire situation. Any confrontation I experience usually remains on the football field. I’m not good at handling it off the field. I guess I need to practice my diplomacy skills.”

He smiled, and her stomach tightened. She’d seen him enough times on television and magazines to understand that there was something about Torrian Smallwood that went beyond what other men possessed, but to be inundated with that raw, in-your-face sexual magnetism was overwhelming.

“You should have more practice at this diplomacy thing than I do. You said yourself that I’m not the first person who’s caused some strife on your blog.”

“No, you’re not,” she answered. The people at Goldstein Publishing were probably ready to put a hit out on her.

“So, what’s the deal?” He leaned forward and settled his elbows on the table. “Why did you chew me out on your blog? What do you have against me, Paige?”

“I don’t have anything against you,” Paige insisted. “My review was not personal. When I read a book, or see a show, or eat at a restaurant, I have a certain set of criteria in mind, and your book did not live up to those criteria. It’s as simple as that.”

“So are you saying none of that stuff you posted on your blog was personal?” Torrian asked.

“It wasn’t supposed to be,” she said. “I did take a couple of cheap shots, though. I apologize for that. But you did the same,” she pointed out to make herself feel better.

“I know.” He shook his head, staring at a spot on the table. When he looked up at her, genuine remorse shone in his honey-colored eyes. “I really am sorry for some of the things I said.” A rueful smile edged up the corner of his mouth as he toyed with the packets of artificial sweeteners on the table. “I pride myself on setting a good example for my nephew of how to be respectful of women, and here I am, doing the complete opposite.”

Paige leaned over and caught his hand. “Stop beating yourself up. I accept your apology.”

As soon as she touched him, something changed. His eyes slowly traveled from where their hands touched up to her eyes. His thumb caressed the underside of her wrist, moving back and forth across the sensitive spot.

The table attendant returned with their drinks, and Paige pulled her hand away. What was it that passed between them every time they touched? The mystifying current of electricity had continued to thrum through her body long after he’d left her apartment, and the same was happening again. Her wrist tingled where he’d touched it.

“Have you decided on what you would like for dinner?” the waitress asked.

Paige asked Torrian about his preferences, but he conceded the ordering to her. She ordered shrimp tempura, a platter of assorted sashimi and a spicy yellowtail roll.

“So,” Torrian asked. “What are we going to do about the blog?”

“I’ve been considering your proposition from the other day.”

“You agree that we should just say this was one big publicity stunt?”

“Yes…and no,” she said. She stopped him before he could say anything. “Pulling this ‘publicity stunt’ may be acceptable in your line of work, but not for me. I would lose credibility with my readers if they thought my review was part of some big hoax to drum up attention for your book. I can’t allow that to happen.”

“So what do you suggest?” he asked. Their food arrived in record time, and Torrian dived in, using his chopsticks to expertly lift a sliver of raw tuna from the rectangular dish.

“I’m not completely sure yet,” Paige answered honestly. She dipped the tempura in soy sauce. “I still believe this will die down soon. Now that we’re no longer fueling the flames with our remarks, interests will wane.”

“Don’t you think I’ll still need to do some damage control?” Torrian asked.

“How much of a hit do you think your reputation has taken because of this?” she asked. Although it shouldn’t matter to her in the least, Paige didn’t like the thought of people not liking him because of what had transpired on her blog over the past few days.

He shrugged. “I’m not sure.” He placed the chopsticks on his plate and wiped his mouth with a napkin. He had a set of the most decadent lips imaginable. Same went for his eyes. “There have been a lot of comments on your blog,” he said.

“Yeah, but not all of them have been bad. Your die-hard fans have stood up for you. And when you think about the number of fans you have around this city, those comments on my blog are only a drop in the bucket.”

“The thought of even one fan being disappointed in the way I behaved on your blog is too many for me,” he said.

“I’m impressed that you care so much,” she admitted. “At first, I thought it was all about your book and restaurant; that you didn’t want fans to think negatively of you because it would affect your sales.”

His eyes softened. “At the risk of losing the drop of respect I seem to have earned from you, I’ll admit that the book and restaurant factor into it.”

His honesty had the opposite effect. Between his visit to her apartment and their conversation here, her opinion of him had changed dramatically.

“Can I ask you something?” Paige asked, using one chopstick to stir up the bowl of sashimi dipping sauce. “You have a successful football career. Why is the success of this book so important to you?”

“It’s not so much the book; it’s the restaurant. It is my sister’s dream.”

“The sister you mention in the book? The one who raised you?”

He nodded. “I owe Deirdre everything. She sacrificed her future to make a better one for me. This restaurant is the one thing she’s always wanted. It scares the hell out of me to think that her dream could be crushed because of all of this.”

His concern wasn’t for himself, but for his sister. Paige’s heart melted then and there.

“And here I thought you were a jerk,” she said, allowing her own grin to travel along her lips.

“I don’t like the thought of you thinking I’m a jerk. If you give me a chance, I’d like to prove to you that I’m not.”

Paige’s breath caught somewhere in her throat. The zing that had only occurred when they touched hit her again, and this time it spread all over her body.

His voice, when he spoke, was low. Seductive. “Will you let me prove that to you, Paige?”

She tried to speak, but the words would not surface.

“Excuse me, Mr. Smallwood?”

At the interruption, they both snapped to attention. Paige wasn’t sure if she should be disappointed or relieved.

Two girls, who couldn’t be more than sixteen years old, held out napkins. “Can we please have your autograph?” they asked in unison.

Torrian turned his attention to his fans, smiling up at them both. For the first time, Paige noticed a difference. The smile on his face now was indulgent; it didn’t encompass his whole face the way it had when he’d smile at her. This was his game face. He’d given her the real thing.

When he’d signed the napkins and taken pictures with both girls on their camera phones, he turned back to her. “Sorry about that.”

Paige waved off his concern with a flick of her chopsticks, deciding it was for the best that they had been interrupted. “It’s to be expected. I’m not sure how much I’d want your life,” Paige said. “I like my privacy.”

“You have a fair amount of fame yourself.”

“Not really, you hadn’t heard of me before this all happened.” She grinned.

“No, I hadn’t,” he said, “But apparently I’m the exception, if the number of people who read your blog is any indication.”

Paige shrugged. “There’s a measure of anonymity in writing for the paper. I like that I can let my voice be heard but maintain a low profile. This situation with you has given me a bit more attention than I’m used to.” She felt the smile tipping up the corner of her mouth. “I have to admit to enjoying it just a little.”

“Happy I could help with that,” he said, his voice a mixture of amusement and heat.

“Um, Torrian? What’s happening here?” Paige asked as nonchalantly as she could. Her heart rate had been on continual escalation mode since the moment he’d reached over and traced his fingers along hers.