“For the weekend event.”
He looked at her.
“You want me.”
“Yes.”
“To go with you.”
“Yes.”
“To a Grand Harmon charity gala.”
“Yes.”
Jake looked down at his shirt.
Grease.
At his hands.
Calluses.
Then at Claire.
“You hit your head recently?”
Claire smiled.
“I’m serious.”
“Why?”
“Because you won't spend the evening trying to impress me.”
“You don't know that.”
“You spent forty minutes explaining brake fluid to me.”
“Maybe that was seductive.”
Claire laughed.
Jake continued:
“And what exactly am I supposed to wear?”
“Clothes.”
“Helpful.”
“Something dark.”
“Do I need a tie?”
“Optional.”
“Then no tie.”
“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.