by T Gephart
She frowned and shook her head. “Nah, I’ll get Cameron to drive, we have brunch plans Saturday morning. But we can pick you up if you like?”
“Snore. Brunch plans.” I rolled my eyes, not at all surprised she was forgoing a night at my place to go back home and spend it with her boyfriend. “And it’s fine, I’ll just get my own ride. It seems stupid for you to come out of your way.”
Cameron and Lani shared a modest apartment in Hell’s Kitchen, which was a world away from my place in Astoria Park in Queens. So while I appreciated the offer, it made no sense at all.
“The ride is there if you want it.” Lani glanced at her watch and cursed under her breath.
A quick check of my phone confirmed lunchtime had ended and we should be getting back to our desks. “Thanks, I’ll chat with you later.”
We both gathered up our handbags and phones, quickly shoving whatever lunch was left down our throats before heading to the bank of elevators. She was on the eighteenth, while I was up on twenty, so we rode together nodding our goodbyes when we got to her floor.
It was after the elevator doors closed that I heard my phone buzz with an incoming message. I assumed it was my boss, Garrett, needing something in the forty minutes I’d been gone. It wouldn’t have been the first time. But when I looked down at my screen, I was pleasantly surprised to see it was Dallas instead.
The smile was bursting off my face until I read his message.
9–1-1 Call ASAP—D
Without even thinking, I dialed his number. While I assumed it wasn’t anything too bad, I was happy for the distraction and curious as to what the emergency was. It was Dallas; it literally could have been anything.
“Hey, what’s up?” I exited the elevator and walked out onto my floor. I was so engrossed in my call that I didn’t notice the hot male chest until I’d walked into it.
“Shit, sorry.” I pulled back, eyeing him up and down.
“Sorry for what?” Dallas asked on the phone unable to see my unfortunate—or fortunate, it was a very nice chest—position. It was bad elevator etiquette to talk and walk, and clearly I didn’t have the skill to do both, failing to look where I was going.
I shook my head, lowering my phone as I checked out the stunning man in front of me. While I was well aware Dallas and whatever his 9–1-1 had been were still on the phone, I couldn’t ignore the sexy man of mystery I’d literally slammed into. Plus, I’d already been rude by walking into him, I didn’t want to further perpetuate the rudeness.
He smiled.
The mystery man, obviously, because I couldn’t see Dallas.
His sexy lips spreading into a wide grin as he straightened his tie. “No need for apologies.”
“Kitty?” My name echoed from the phone being held in my hand. “Are you still there?”
Mystery man glanced down to the cell, grinning even wider. “Sounds like someone is trying to get ahold of you, Kitty. See you soon.”
And without a plan on when or how that was going to happen, he disappeared into the elevator with the metal doors closing behind him.
Who the hell was that?
Certainly not anyone who worked on my floor.
Not anyone who worked with the company unless they were new.
Regardless, I was going to find out who he was. After all, he already had my name—Dallas screaming it had helped him get that—so it was only fair I at least knew his.
“Dallas, sorry, I ran into someone.” I brought the phone back to my ear as I recovered and walked quickly to my office. “What’s the emergency?”
He coughed, clearing his throat. “Okay, it still feels weird talking about women with you. And I could have asked Josh, but he’s too busy showing the new guy the ropes, and we agreed this would be our thing.”
“Dallas, it’s fine. Whatever it is, you can tell me.” I closed the door behind me, unsure if the smile on my face was from the mystery man earlier or from how adorable Dallas sounded when he was confused.
He blew out a breath. “Fine, so when a girl says she wants to take you to church, is it like when a guy says he’s going to take you to heaven? You know . . . in the sack.”
My brows furrowed, slightly confused by the question. “Babe, I’m going to need more information. Can you give me some context? She wasn’t a nun was she?”
Dallas laughed as I settled into my office chair. “Yeah, I’ve made that mistake before, but I swear to God—whichever one was her boss—she didn’t look like one. Firstly, aren’t they supposed to be wearing costumes so we can easily identify them? And secondly, aren’t they supposed to be old? I was so confused by how hot she’d been I’d completely overlooked the pamphlets she was handing out. So, while I’ve had that problem before, I always ask upfront now. Kind of like asking if someone is a cop so they can’t get you for entrapment later.”
I couldn’t help it, the giggle bubbling up my throat as I listened to his theory. “Yeah, probably a wise choice. So you asked her?”
“Sure did. Right at the start when she handed me her cookies.”
“Wait a minute.” I stopped, the confusion back. “She gave you cookies? That isn’t code for something, right?”
With Dallas, you could never be sure. And while it wouldn’t be unheard of for a woman to casually and randomly offer herself to Dallas, I’d never heard him call any body part a cookie.
“Not code, double chocolate chip. And they were delicious,” he confirmed, a smile in his voice.
“Please tell me you knew this woman and she wasn’t just someone you randomly met.” I held my hand against my forehead praying I didn’t have to give him a stranger danger lesson as well.
“Of course I know her, she’s the dry cleaner on the corner. I think her name is Holly, but to be honest she’s got an amazing rack so it’s hard for me to concentrate. Anyway, today she came in with a plate of cookies and like I said, Josh was busy with the new guy so she had to talk to me. And while I was savoring her delicious baked goods—the cookies, not that I wouldn’t take something else if it were on offer—she told me she wanted to take me to church.”
While I was both glad and relieved he hadn’t been the victim of a roofie via Chips Ahoy! I was still no closer to solving his riddle. On the surface, it was flirting. A classic—and still fairly widely used—concept of trying to win over a man by appealing to one of his base needs.
There were three.
Oxygen.
Food and drink.
And Sex.
I’d heard tales about women trying to Betty Crocker their way into a man’s heart. Turning up on his doorstep with some pound cake and hope he’d reciprocate. But I had yet to see it for myself. I highly doubted those kinds of women even lived in New York City, the dying breed hidden away in some place like Arkansas or something.
“Was she flirting?”
“If she was, she wasn’t trying really hard.” He laughed. “Which was why I couldn’t work it out.”
“Hmmmm.” I tapped my finger against my lips, giving it some more thought. It wasn’t easy to decipher even with the extra information, but I wasn’t going to fail at my first assignment. Hell no, I had too much pride for that. “Wait, when she said wanted to take you to church, did she say her church or just church in general?”
I had a moment of clarity, the use of a pronoun important if we were going to unravel Dry Cleaner Holly’s intentions.
There was a pause, hopefully meaning Dallas was replaying the conversation and able to extract addition information. “Ummm, now that you mention it, she did say her church.”
Mentally I cheered, excited I’d solved the puzzle—or at least I believed I had—as I pushed my shoulders back proudly. “Then I would safely guess that no, she does not mean anything sexual, and she is probably talking about the actual place of worship.”
“Thank God, I checked,” Dallas cursed out. “I was literally moments away from agreeing. I mean, she had amazing tits and delicious cookies, I’d have probably agreed to go anywhere with her.”
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“Well, glad I could save you. Probably a different kind of saving than she had in mind.” I giggled, imagining poor Dallas sitting in a pew listening to a sermon for a good thirty minutes before he’d worked it out.
“Yeah well, I still think it’s a low blow trying to recruit me with tits and cookies. Pretty sure Jesus wouldn’t approve with the whole bait and switch.”
“Probably not.” I wrinkled my nose, amused someone could work tits and Jesus into the same conversation. “So anything else I can do for you?”
“Nah, I should probably go back out there and tell her that it’s a no go.”
My eyes widened, my back shifting forward in my chair as I leaned against my desk. “Dallas, you had her wait until I called you?”
“Of course I did,” he announced, the pride brimming in his voice. “I told you it was a 9–1-1. If she’d already left, we could have had this conversation later. But she sort of wanted an answer so I told her to hang tight until I got the okay.”
I shook my head, both honored he thought so highly of my opinion that he had some girl wait while he verified, and horrified he’d ditched the poor girl while he checked in.
“Dallas, go put the poor girl out of her misery,” I ordered. “And next time maybe tell her you’ll think about it, and then we can discuss it when it isn’t so time sensitive.”
“And risk her taking my maybe as a commitment? Please, just like the nun, that is a mistake I’ll only make once. Thanks, but no thanks.” He chuckled.
There weren’t many men who could get away with stringing a woman along, but Dallas was a rare breed. Which was why his church-going lady friend was probably still waiting for him despite him needing to take a call. Even if her intensions were only of the religious kind, I didn’t doubt Dallas would be charming as he always was. And if she was working some weird angle and we’d been mistaken, then she’d probably be smitten he’d taken it so seriously.
“Bye, Dallas. I have work to do.” I sighed, still amused by the conversation. “Call me later and let me know how it all worked out.”
“Will do,” he promised, saying goodbye before he hung up the phone.
There wasn’t a doubt I’d be hearing from him later, and if I was honest I was curious how it went.
My life had never been boring. And I often seemed to find myself in one or more messes of my own in my personal life. But there was something refreshing and almost exciting to not be the subject of the mess. It literally had nothing to do with me, nor could I be inadvertently dragged into the drama. Plus, it was one time where my past could be of some use. Good, instead of evil. It made me feel giddy, sort of like getting a free coffee when you hadn’t realized you’d filled up your loyalty card. A wonderful and unexpected surprise for all the previous times you’d more than paid your share.
With the feel-good vibe still humming through my body, I turned my attention back to my computer. It was another area of my life where my previous determination had paid off. Working hard had earned me not only respect but incredible success too, which was something I wanted to continue.
All good things.
Which was why even though I knew I was going to be buried for the rest of the afternoon under a mountain of spreadsheets, I did it with a smile.
It was good to be at the top of my game, or at least that was where I assumed I was. And until something showed me otherwise, I was going to enjoy the weird feeling of contentment I had going on.
Teaming up with Dallas had been such a good idea.
Dallas
I WASN’T THE KIND OF GUY YOU’D want in charge of babysitting anyone.
Normally, I’d be the first person to tell you how awesome I was, except when it came to taking care of something important and keeping out of trouble. That was a level of responsibility I didn’t care for or want. But taking someone out and showing him a good time, well there was no man better for the job. Just as long as I didn’t have to worry about him getting home in one piece. I would take him to the Promised Land, show him the way to all of the spoils, but when push came to shove, it had to be every man for himself.
“So, Mason, here is the deal.” I mapped out our plan as I pulled into a parking spot not far from one of my favorite bars. “We go in together. If we’re lucky, we’ll be leaving separately. This place is like a club but without the required dancing. Which means although it’s a bar, it has a lot more women.”
“I’m not looking to hook up. But if that’s your thing, that’s cool, I’ll call my brother-in-law for a ride.” He tipped his chin at me and grinned.
What the fuck?
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH
I laughed, glancing over at him and giving him a nod in appreciation. Honestly, I was a little disappointed in myself that I’d just assumed he’d be into women. I mean, times had changed and love was love, right? And I had zero problems with anyone’s preferences. Hell, the more men out of the game, the less competition I had. So he could go on with whatever he wanted, and he’d catch no heat or judgment from me.
“Hey, I feel you, dawg.” I put out my fist, waiting for the bump. “There are men in there too. Whatever your flavor is fine by me.”
It was his turn to laugh. “I’m not gay, Dallas. I’m just not into random hook ups.”
Hold the hell on.
He wasn’t into women or men? Well that made me really confused.
“Are you . . .” I swallowed hard, having heard about men of his kind but never thinking I’d ever see one in the wild. It was New York for Christ’s sake, and I was sure those were all gone. I dropped my voice to a whisper. “A celibate?”
Mason grinned, looking pretty pleased with himself considering his dick was basically an ornament. Not sure I’d be so cool about it. “Relax, dude. It’s not a disease you can catch. But no, I’m not celibate. I just have to be into a girl before I have sex with her. You know, get to know her mind, her spirit—that kind of thing.”
“Umm . . . like with every girl you’re ever with?” I’d been mistaken, I wasn’t with a celibate; I was with a unicorn.
Fine, maybe I was exaggerating. I completely understood that some men preferred to have “girlfriends.” They would rather know what was on the menu than rock up at a buffet and take their chances. All good. But given a chance—and a guy was not in a relationship—there weren’t a lot of red-blooded males out there who wouldn’t at least want to take a sample. It was like going through a supermarket and not taking the free cheese on the cracker when the woman in the apron offered it to you. It’s free cheese, why the hell wouldn’t you take it. Not to mention how are you going to know what you like unless you taste it?
“Yeah, with every girl,” he confirmed, popping open the passenger side door, hopping out of my Corvette.
With my mind still stuck in the groove that was the new guy’s confession, I joined him outside. Maybe I should hook him up with Dry Cleaner Holly? She was probably more his demographic than I would ever be. I was still going to eat her cookies though, because they were freaking delicious.
“Huh, well good for you. I guess we’ll just hang out then. You still drink, right?” I had to ask, unsure if his aversion to pussy extended to all of life’s joys.
“Yeah, I still drink.” He shot me a grin. “And seriously, you do you tonight. I don’t need my hand held if things go well for you.”
Well at least he had that going for him and wasn’t demanding we sit in a corner and chat like a bunch of old women.
My head bobbed in silent thanks as I pointed to the door. “Great, then let’s go in.”
He led the way, walking to the front where we were greeted by two security guards. They grunted an acknowledgment, stepping aside as we walked into the bar, the noise welcoming us like an old friend.
I didn’t bother looking for a table, preferring to get a seat up at the bar if it was available. It was not only closer to the booze but also gave you a better view of what was on offer. Besides, while I had no issue with anyone else’s
sexual preference, I wanted to be very clear about mine. And sitting at a table with a dude didn’t exactly do that.
At the edge of the bar I spied two vacant stools, the massive dude sitting next to them looking like he ate the last people who’d sat there. Still, beggars couldn’t be choosers, and I wasn’t going to stand like a loser all night.
“Hey, buddy.” I tipped my chin to the behemoth perched on his seat, hoping English was his first language. I didn’t speak Sasquatch, so if it wasn’t, we were shit out of luck.
His massive head tilted downward, looking at us like he couldn’t believe someone had addressed him. “You talking to me?” His voice rattled down his throat like a train coming off the rails.
“Well, unless you’ve got some invisible friends,” I pointed to the empty bar stools beside him, “yeah, I was talking to you.”
He grunted, muttering a “whatever” into his beer as he turned back to the bar and ignored us. That was fine by me because having a conversation wasn’t high on my agenda either.
“Two beers, Roscoe.” I tapped my hand on the bar. “Domestic, you can choose.”
It wasn’t the kind of place that served draft, the fancier surroundings made sure of that. And even though we were in Queens and not Manhattan, people liked to drink their longnecks with the illusion it was something more than it was. Still, I wasn’t complaining because its bullshit makeover got some of the hottest women in town to stay local. And screw crossing the bridge when I had everything I needed right in my own borough.
“Looks like the place to be.” Mason nodded as icy-colds came our way. “It’s a Thursday night and it’s wall-to-wall.”
“Dude, it doesn’t matter what night it is, there is always action at this place. Why do think I brought you here?” If I was going to be showing the new guy around then I might as well entertain myself at the same time.
He nodded silently, but his look didn’t convince me that he agreed.
“So, what’s the story with you and all the talking?” Part of me was curious and the other part was making conversation. It wouldn’t hurt to know him a little better too, might help me to work out his agenda.