Falling for the CEO (Stanton Family #1)

Too bad it also meant that he was now dateless for an event where he was supposed to be the keynote speaker, delivering a speech that would hopefully put his new idea in motion. In a situation like this, he wanted—needed, really—someone by his side to make his message more appealing.

They turned into Meredith’s office. “Have a seat,” he said, guiding her to one of the modern, cube-like upholstered chairs set around a small round table that she liked to use for smaller meetings. He stayed next to her, ready to catch her if she stumbled as she was sitting down. With her, anything was possible.

She settled on the cushion and looked down at her hands. “Thank you. You really didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did,” he answered forcefully, not liking the way she’d said it, cringing and apologetic. He was startled when she looked up at him, green eyes wide with surprise. She had removed her usual big-framed glasses, and he could clearly see every feature of her heart-shaped face.

Damn. She wasn’t just nice-looking. She was quite pretty, actually. Not to mention brilliant. Though she’d only been working at the company for a couple of months, she knew almost as much about the company as he did.

She would make a great date for the gala tomorrow.

She nodded shakily, and for a moment he wondered if he’d spoken aloud. But then she took a deep breath and looked at him almost pleadingly, “You mean, so I wouldn’t sue you for workplace injury, of course. But I would never do something like that. It was my own fault. Really, I cannot begin to tell you how—”

“What?” Andrew couldn’t keep himself from interrupting. “Sue me? God, no.” He scowled down at her, wondering where in the world she would get the idea that he only helped her for mercenary reasons. “Hasn’t anyone ever done something for you just because you’re a human being? You know, simple kindness?”

He had meant it to be flippant, but the answering look in her eyes said everything.

No.

But she didn’t actually voice the word. Instead, she looked back down at her lap and laughed nervously, smoothing her hands over that ugly skirt. “Ha, oh, of course. Yes. I was just joking with you. Ha ha.”

Was that really the kind of life she lived?

He felt a tug of pity, but shook off the thought quickly and forced a small smile. Better to pretend he believed that she’d only been kidding around. Meredith’s personal life—past or present—was none of his business.

Except—maybe that’s what would make her the perfect date to the gala. They got along well enough and certainly respected each other professionally. There was nothing personal between them to distract him from his business goals for tomorrow night, and it would be an excellent time to introduce her to Jon Myerberg, the founder of the nation’s largest philanthropic foundation.

He nodded to himself. Taking Meredith was the perfect solution. Now he just needed to ask her. Which was easier said than done. But he cleared his throat and forged ahead, because this was much more important than a little temporary awkwardness. “Ah, Meredith?”

She jerked her head up and looked at him in alarm like he’d caught her doing something wrong. “Yes?”

Andrew frowned. Why did she sound so nervous? Did she know what he was about to ask her? He blew out a breath. May as well find out.

“I know this is somewhat short notice, but I’m unexpectedly on my own for the Myerberg Foundation Gala tomorrow night. I’m supposed to be giving a talk about the Christmas Bonus Fund. I’d usually go alone, but in this case, I’d have more influence on how organizations look at philanthropy if I had someone by my side to tacitly endorse that message.” He grimaced at his own clinical words and eyed her, looking for offense, but found none. Was she really so used to being spoken to that way? Or had she never been asked on a date before and didn’t realize what he was trying to get at?

Either option was remarkably depressing.

“Yes, well. One of my sisters is in Chicago right now for work, and the other is too young for me to take her to something like this. All of my female friends are married. Their husbands wouldn’t appreciate my asking them to accompany me to a black-tie dinner…” He trailed off, surprised, when she gave a single nod.

“Does that mean you’ll go with me?” he asked, venturing a smile.

She hesitated for a moment, her body tensing in a way that seemed to reverberate throughout the room. “Oh, my gosh!” she gasped. “Are you asking me to be your—your—” she wiggled her fingers at him, as though the word “date” was simply too scandalous to say aloud.

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