And how could she manage to remain emotionless about Ford, and make sure he meant less than nothing to her from here until eternity, if she was constantly getting angry with him?

“So,” she said to James with a bright smile that she hoped didn’t look as forced as it felt, “have you been on any good runs this week?”

“None as good as ours together last Sunday.” His eyes darkened slightly as he reached for her hand and rubbed his thumb over her palm. “I’ve been thinking about you all week, Mia. Tonight couldn’t come soon enough.”

It was exactly the right thing to say, exactly the right way to touch her. Or rather, it should have been. She should have been drooling all over him, should have been thanking her lucky stars that they’d both been out on the running path last weekend.

Instead, she was wondering why the cocktail waitress couldn’t get over to their table quicker so that she could have a drink to hold instead of James’s hand.

“I thought about you, too,” she made herself say, and it was true—she really had thought about James during the week. She’d told her friends about him, had even texted them a sneaky picture she’d taken of him running before he’d noticed she was behind him.

It was only since the moment she’d set eyes on Ford in the tower that all thoughts of other men, including James, had fled like racehorses in the Kentucky Derby.

Forcing herself to lean in a little closer, rather than away, she said, “I want to know everything about you.”

“How about we start with the basics and then later,” he said with a charming pause, “I’ll give you more if you still want it.”

Seriously, could this guy be any greater? But even as she had the thought, when the cocktail waitress stepped up to their table with a “What can I get you?” Mia took the opportunity to slide her hand out of his and put a few precious inches of space between them in a booth that suddenly seemed much too small. Next time she’d have to remember to have a first date in a bowling alley, or somewhere similarly less intimate.

They gave their orders, and Mia prayed that the drink would arrive quickly so that she could begin to dull all the cray-cray thoughts about Ford that wouldn’t leave her alone.

“I already know you’re gorgeous and sweet,” she said to James, though she hated feeling like she was leading him on. “What else can you tell me?”

“I’m thirty-five. Never been married. I’m a VP at Anderson Financial.”

Mia worked to make all of the appropriate responses. “I always thought it would be fun to play with other people’s money,” she said after taking a much-needed drink (or three) of her dirty martini. “Are those all the basics you’re going to give me tonight?”

His smile should have set her blood on fire. “How about one more for our first round, and then it’s your turn.” When she nodded with what she hoped looked like anticipation, he said, “I’ve also got a major thing for intelligent women who run their own businesses.”

James was looking at her with an interest that she could see went above and beyond just wanting to do her. Unlike Ford, who had been deep into his one-track I-want-you-and-won’t-stop-until-I-have-you caveman act this morning. When he’d kissed her, she’d stupidly felt her heart stir at least as much as her body had...even though she’d known he was simply playing with her like a cat carelessly would with a ball of yarn, until it was bored with the game.

Mia had never been a particularly big drinker, but tonight she could have tossed back another couple already. “I grew up in Seattle. I love selling houses. And, don’t freak out when I tell you this next bit, okay?” His eyebrows rose as she said, “I have four older brothers.”

“How’s this for not freaking out?” he said, and then the next thing she knew, he was lowering his mouth to hers.

Panic rose in her chest, but she forced herself to push it down and let his lips touch hers. His kiss was warm and soft. She leaned in closer and let him take it deeper, his tongue stroking over hers.

And that was when Mia finally had to admit complete and utter defeat. There was no use in continuing with this farce of a date. Because if she wasn’t feeling James’s kiss, she was well and truly done for.

Splaying her hands on his chest, instead of gripping his shirt to pull him closer the way she had with Ford, she firmly pushed him back.

“You’re great, James,” she said in a gentle voice, “and I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but—”

“We were just getting warmed up, Mia. Let me kiss you again.”

God, this date with James should have been so hot. But nothing about being with him felt right. Not his arms around her. Not his mouth on hers. Not even the way he looked at her, like he was hoping she would let him inside her head and heart, instead of already knowing all of her deepest secrets before she said so much as a word.

It took no effort whatsoever to say, “I’m sorry, but I can’t,” and slide completely out of his arms. Not the way it had nearly killed her to walk away from Ford this morning after one kiss.

Especially when one kiss from Ford had never, ever been enough...

It figured that one of Ford’s hits would start playing right then. No matter how hard she tried, how was she ever going to get away from her memories of him?

“It’s someone else, isn’t it?”

James’s question pulled her back to the bar, making her notice the way the edge of the wooden stool was digging into her hip and the sounds of flirting and laughter all around them.

She tried to shake her head, tried to deny it, but before she could pull that off, James said, “If you ever get over him, give me a call.”

She could see the regret in James’s eyes before he put a twenty on the table, slipped his jacket on, and headed for the door. A half-dozen single girls in the bar watched him go, and when they looked back and saw Mia sitting alone in the booth, she could read the clear question in their eyes. How could you have screwed that up?

Mia pulled out her phone and texted her two best friends: EMERGENCY DRINKS NEEDED @ K WINE BAR.

Chapter Seven

Colbie Michaels and Brooke Jansen walked into the cocktail bar just seconds apart, and when they found Mia sitting in the back booth, they both immediately said, “What’s wrong?”

Mia barely stopped herself from dropping her head into her hands as they slid in on either side of her. “I got a call yesterday from a lawyer about an anonymous client who wanted to buy a ten-million-dollar house on the waterfront.” She could see from her friends’ expressions that they thought that was as strange as she had, but they didn’t interrupt. “Right away I knew something had to be up. I mean, what reasons could a super-rich guy have for needing to remain anonymous with his Realtor? But against my better judgment, I decided to set up a few showings for today.”