Quarterback Draw
Page 3

She laughed, and he liked the sound of it.
“I don’t think so.”
He wasn’t insulted, and he liked her confidence. They finished the shoot for the day since, according to the director, the light was leaving them. Katrina grabbed her robe and wandered off, and Grant went back to his bungalow to shower off the makeup and hair gunk. He checked his phone and answered a few e-mails and text messages.
Trevor had sent him a text stating he was going to set up a face-to-face call with Haven, so he was staying in his room.
That meant Grant was on his own tonight, which was fine with him. He returned a few calls, one to his agent, Liz Riley. She talked to him about finalizing his contract since the season would be starting soon. He told her he’d come in and see her as soon as he got back to town.
Football season was gearing up, and he was due to the practice facility in St. Louis in two weeks.
He was ready. He’d been in training and was in shape, and was more than ready for the season to start. This was a nice mini vacation prior to getting back to work, though. Soon enough he’d have his head in the game, and it would be all he thought about.
After getting dressed in a pair of shorts and a sleeveless shirt, he made his way to the main bar at the hotel and ordered a beer. He grabbed a seat at one of the tables outside, content to sip his beer and people watch, one of his favorite pastimes.
He saw a few of the models come outside. They sat at a table not too far from where he was, all of them talking and laughing.
They were all beautiful women. Tall and slender, with great hair, pretty smiles, and amazing bodies. But he found himself searching for only one woman.
He had no idea why, when she’d clearly blown him off. She was probably out on a date tonight with some hot male model. He’d seen a few of those guys today as well.
But then he caught sight of Katrina coming through the bar. She was by herself, carrying a tote bag. She stopped to talk to the bartender, who nodded. Then she walked past Grant without saying a word, and pulled up a chair at a table by herself.
Not with the other models, who seemingly ignored her as much as she was ignoring them.
She pulled out a book and a pair of glasses, and one of the waitresses brought her a tall glass of what looked like iced tea with lemon. She opened the book and started to read, oblivious to everything—and everyone—around her.
Huh. Not at all what he’d expected.
He watched her for a while, waiting to see if she was meeting someone. After about thirty minutes, he realized no one was going to show up. He stood, grabbed his beer, and went over to her table and pulled out a chair to take a seat.
She lifted her gaze from her book and settled it on him. She didn’t offer a smile.
“Did you get lost on your way to some other table?” she asked.
“No. But you were alone.”
“Precisely. On purpose.”
She waited, as if she expected him to leave. He didn’t take a brush-off all that easily. “I thought you might want some company.”
“You thought wrong.”
“Does that icy-cold stare work on all men?”
“Usually.”
“Why aren’t you with your friends over there?”
She took a quick glance at the other table, then back to him. “Do you think models travel in herds?”
She had a sharp wit. He liked that about her. “Sorry. I guess not. What are you drinking?”
“Iced tea.”
He signaled for the waitress, then held up two fingers and motioned to their drinks. She nodded and wandered back inside.
“Really, Grant. I’m fine. And I’d like to be alone.”
“No one wants to be alone.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“Okay, fine. I don’t want to be alone. I figured we’d have dinner together.”
With a sigh, she set down her book and took off her glasses. “Just because we worked together today doesn’t mean we have anything in common, or that we shared a moment or anything.”
“Didn’t we?”
She paused for a few seconds, and he held her gaze. Damn, there was something about her eyes. He liked women just fine, and always had a good time with them. He’d had a few relationships that had lasted awhile and had ended amicably. But not one woman had ever shocked him with the same spark he’d felt with Katrina today.
He wanted to explore that, see if he could push through her frosty exterior.
“I’m reading a book.”
“So you said. It’s a good one. I’ve read it before.”
She frowned. “You didn’t even look at it.”
“I saw it when I sat down.”
She crossed her arms. “Okay, fine. What’s it about?”
“There’s this guy, and he works for the CIA. But he’s a double agent, working both sides. You don’t know throughout the book if he’s a good guy or bad guy, or if the other CIA agent he hooks up with in Seoul is on his side, or out to kill him. So when they both show up on the train—”
She held up her hand. “Stop. I haven’t gotten to that part yet. Fine, I get it. You’ve read it.”
“You thought I was bullshitting you.”
“You wouldn’t be the first.”
The waitress brought their drinks. “Thanks,” Grant said. “Can we see some menus?”
“I don’t want to see a menu,” she said to the waitress, who walked away anyway. She turned her attention back on Grant. “I don’t want you to sit here with me. Honestly, are you always this rude?”