Page 66 of Wish You Faith
“Your brother didn’t think so.” She folded her arms.
Evan did everything he could not to scan her from head to toe. He’d already glanced at her once when she entered the conference room an hour ago, and felt downright guilty for doing so—even though Rosie was five hours of flying away on the other side of the continent.
Ximena was the project manager for a new freight project between her father’s company in San Diego and Cavanaugh Shipping in Seattle. They had met two years ago and went out to dinner one time.
One dinner, okay?
Evan didn’t like her personality. At dinner, he realized that he didn’t want to spend another moment with her. He actually found an excuse to leave dinner early. She was furious when he walked out of the restaurant without finishing his steak.
She had cried when he turned her down for future dates. She erroneously assumed that Evan thought she was overweight. She wasn’t at all, but it was in her mind for whatever reason. She was a fitness fanatic, and there was not an ounce of fat on her body—not two years ago, and not today.
Rather, her weight was psychological and Evan couldn’t handle it. She was clingy and made up stories about their non-existent relationship, to the point that Mom thought he was engaged.
Even without anyone else to date, Evan wouldn’t have chosen Ximena.
Now two years later, she was back.
This morning, she was going for modesty as her new modus operandi. Her skirt covered almost all her legs, so it wasn’t like she was flaunting skin in front of him, but the skirt outlined her shape from hip to ankle. She had long and model-like legs. Wearing a pair of four-inch platform sandals, she was tall enough to see eye to eye with Evan. Her green eyes were penetrating and would probably be enticing to a tired man who’d let his guard down.
But…
She wasn’t Rosie.
Now if Rosie had worn this skirt…
Then again, no.
Rosie wouldn’t wear that. She was modest and had self confidence. She didn’t have to keep up with anyone else’s fashion style. Evan smiled as he recalled the first time he had met Rosie. She had fallen on the floor in the greenhouse. Her sweater was blindingly bright and colorful.
“You have to eat anyway,” Ximena crooned.
Evan cleared his throat.
“Sorry. I have plans.” He stepped into the hallway and wished for somebody to walk by whom he’d recognize.
No one.
Not a soul.
They had all gone to lunch or had returned to their desks downstairs.
Evan made a mental note to never be alone with another person—except for Rosie—ever again. Especially with Ximena and the likes of her.
“Plans? Don’t you need to eat?” Ximena walked alongside him. Sounded like she wouldn’t take no for an answer.
“I have another meeting to go to shortly after lunch that I need to prepare for, so if you would excuse me, Miss Dewey…”
“No, you cannot be excused.”
The gall of her.
Evan didn’t want to ask her what she wanted. He already knew what she wanted.
He speed-dialed security. “Please come to the third floor and escort Miss Ximena Dewey to her vehicle outside. Now, okay? Our meeting has ended.”
“Evan!” Ximena stomped her sandals—probably name brand—and it made her entire body shake, especially her chest. It seemed that she had thrown the mock tantrum on purpose to show off her assets.
Lord, save me. Don’t let Rosie misunderstand.
