The CEO and Her Driver

Chapter 13

Have you ever asked someone an important question, but you timed it badly, so distractions made it hard to get an answer? And you lose the power of an unfiltered answer? Well, that was my current problem. When I had asked Tate if Susan had asked him out, a server walked up, making it impossible to gauge Tate's reaction to my question and giving him a LOT of time to process it before I could get an answer. Crap.

"Hey, Tate!" A thirty-year-old sever with rose tattoos, several ear piercings and short-cropped purple hair said as she put down a pint of beer in front of him. She wore a black vest top and black ripped jeans. "I have your usual. Buffalo wings, onion rings, and chili cheese fries will be on the way in a few minutes."

Tate shot her a grin. "Thanks Hal."

The girl named Hal turned to look at me, taking me in under her dusky makeup. "And who's this?" She shot Tate a curious smile. "You never bring girls here."

Tate took a long, slow sip of his beer, adam's apple bobbing against his throat. "She snubbed my attempts to take her out on a date."

I gawked at him. Hal snorted and placed her hand on her hip. "Well, I can see why if your idea of a date was bringing her to this dump." She waved her hand gesturing to the pub around us.

"Hal, this isn't a dump. You've done a great job," Tate insisted.

She rolled her eyes. "You're just saying that because the supply of fried food would vanish if you tried to trash talk my baby." Then Hal turned back to me. "What would you like to eat?"

"I have no idea," I lied. 

The smell of fish and chips was driving me crazy. But the idea of having something so utterly comforting in such a cozy place when I was on the verge of having an awkward conversation sounded awful. Maybe I'll just get a salad. That's probably a good alternative when asking a hot guy about dating your assistant, right?

"Oh come on! You've been drooling over the smell of fish and chips since we walked through the door." Tate looked back at Hal. "Don't let her indecisiveness fool you. We're getting lunch to stop her from trying to burn down a building because she's hungry."

I crossed my arms. "Who said anything about trying? I would succeed at burning down anything I set my mind to."

Tate smiled, amusement making his dimples flash to life again. "I'm sure you would. And it's terrifying. So do you want the fish and chips or not?"

"Your lack of filter is irritating," I muttered, pinching my nose.

Hal patted Tate's shoulder warmly. "Yep. We love our Sunshine boy, even if he has a habit of oversharing... and scaring people with that freakishly high level of kindness." She looked back at me. "So...?"

"Fish and chips, yes. That would be great," I said, refusing to look at Tate. "And a pint of beer too."

Hal offered me a wide-eyed good luck smile before walking off to fill the order. I chuckled, amused that someone else seemed to understand Tate. "Hal's awesome. I like her," I said as I watched her slide a shot of whisky across the bar to someone.

Tate took another swig of his beer. "I wonder why. Maybe it's because she makes fun of this sunshine freak."

I laughed. "Yeah, a little bit." A moment later, Hal appeared, dropped off my beer, and disappeared back behind the bar, leaving us in silence.

"So... about my question," I started again, gripping the crisp cool mug tightly, hating how ridiculous it all was. How much I cared about the answer to the question.

"About how I became such a sunshine freak?" Tate asked, his eyes playful.

I couldn't tell if he was being serious. He was a sudden vault of unreadability. Hiding behind jokes and smiles. Which threw me off completely. Did he really not hear me the first time? "Um... No. That's a life story for another time—"