I walk through the front door and I’m greeted by a smiling receptionist with curly blond hair. “You must be Priscilla Cain,” she says.
“I am. I’m here to meet with Malc—I mean, Mr. Ridges.”
She waves her hand. “Oh, don’t worry. We all call him Malcolm here.”
I smile. She picks up her phone and dials a number, but Malcolm doesn’t answer because he’s already walking down the hall toward me. “I thought I heard your voice.”
He comes all the way up to me and wraps his arms around me again like he did last week when we met for drinks. I hold my breath, counting down the seconds until he lets go of me. The receptionist’s eyes go wide, and then she looks down, her brow furrowed. At least I’m not the only one who thinks the hugging is weird. I force a smile.
“Come on into this conference room,” Malcolm says. He gestures toward a room with a long table. There’s a glass wall that separates the conference room from the reception area. He turns back to the receptionist and snaps his fingers. “Carrie, where are the crepes?”
“They’re in the conference room,” she says.
He looks at the box on the table, then back at her. “Don’t you think they might spoil just sitting out like that?”
“I just put them in there,” she says with a frown. “They’re fresh and warm. I didn’t want to put them in the refrigerator.”
He stares at her with a straight face for a long second. Carrie holds his stare. I stay where I am, feeling awkward about being in the middle of whatever this is. Finally, he turns back around and leads the way into the conference room.
“Sorry about this,” he says. “It’s embarrassing, honestly.”
I shake my head. “Nothing to be embarrassed about. It was really nice of you to do all this for our meeting.”
“They’re still in the box from the bakery,” he says with a sigh. “She couldn’t have taken them out and displayed them on a tray? She knows you’re an event planner. You have much higher standards than whatever this is.”
“Really, it’s okay,” I insist. “I’m sure the box is keeping them warm.”
He opens the box and pushes it over to me. “Help yourself,” he says. “The rest of my team should be here in a minute.”
I look inside at the rolled crepes. They’re all chocolate. No strawberry. I’m afraid to say anything because I don’t want to get Carrie in trouble. I pull one out and take a bite as I sit down.
“How is it?” Malcolm asks.
“Really good,” I say with my mouth full. I try to hide my disappointment that it’s not strawberry. It’s not that I don’t like chocolate. I do. But you can’t tell a girl that she’s getting strawberry crepes and then turn around and get her something completely different when her heart is set on strawberries.
He nods. “I knew chocolate was the right choice. I know you said strawberry, but I’ve never met a woman who didn’t like chocolate.”
I take another bite to hide my annoyance. I don’t know why he even asked what I wanted if he was going to completely disregard my choice and make the decision for me. I think about how Oliver knew I wanted strawberry without me having to tell him.
A few other people filter into the conference room and take seats around the table. None of them take any of the crepes, which makes me feel weird about eating mine in front of them. I push my plate away while introductions are made. We talk about their plans for the next few months, and more specifically about a charity auction they have coming up. I describe how I would handle each of their events. I try my best to make myself sound better than any competition I might have.
When the meeting is over, I stand up and shake hands with everyone again. As people begin to leave the conference room, Malcolm pushes the box of crepes closer to me. “Take these,” he says.
“Are you sure? There are so many of them. You could leave them in the breakroom for your employees.”
He shakes his head. “They know better than to ask for handouts.”
I’m not sure what to make of that statement. I think about how no one else touched the crepes during the meeting. I had thought it was weird, but I figured they were just collectively against breakfast food. Now I wonder if they were afraid of being reprimanded. I clear my throat. “Uh, sure. I’ll take the crepes, then.”
I pick up the box and balance it under my arm with my handbag.
“Let me walk you out,” he says.
I look at Carrie on my way out the door. She keeps her head down, avoiding eye contact. Malcolm leads the way, opening the door for me. When we get outside to my car, I look at the yellow Corvette again.
“Is this your car?” I ask.
He nods. “Want to go for a ride?”
