by Shay Stone
“Can I help you?”
I exam my fingernails feigning boredom. “Yes, I’m Preston Wetherbee. I believe my father arranged for me to be fitted for some suits. I’m supposed to ask for Lorenzo. I’ll need them today. Money’s no object.”
SIX
Don’t Get Distracted
Eight suits, fourteen shirts, and an array of ties later, I leave promising to tell my dad how wonderful and accommodating they were. When I arrive back at the hotel, I fire up my laptop to do a little research concentrating on Steele Industries and Mandashous Pharmaceuticals. That’s who I’d target. Both are multi-national conglomerates worth billions. Moreau Enterprises may also be worth exploring. They started out manufacturing child safety products, but they’ve been diversifying and are growing rapidly. Rumor has it they may be taking the company public soon.
I start with Steele Industries, centering my focus on women between the ages of twenty and fifty. It narrows the search, but without a name, it’s still too many to obtain any real information. And who knows if I’m even looking at the right company. After a few hours, I close my computer aggravated I have no more knowledge than before I started.
The stress of the week seems to hit me all at once. I do a few pushups and contemplate heading down to the hotel gym for a workout, but that’s not what I want. It’s been weeks since I’ve had sex. I need to fuck and fuck hard. And I haven’t been able to get that damn brunette out of my head all day. I’ve taken her at least ten different ways in my mind.
I leave my room in search of some seedy bar, hoping to grab a drink and find a woman with great legs and loose morals. I want to be around people. I need the distraction. It’s not often I get lonely, but tonight I find myself wishing I had someone I could call to meet for a few beers or just talk.
I don’t have friends, unless you count Mike, which I don’t. It’s another side effect of the job. I’m always playing a role. I never get to be myself. Not that I’m even sure who that is anymore. I’ve been doing this so long I don’t know where the con man ends and I begin. And lately that’s starting to bother me. The incredible high I used to get pulling a job isn’t so great anymore. It’s not enough. I want something more.
A few blocks over I come across an upscale pool hall and figure if I can’t get laid, I might as well hustle some stockbrokers. I take a seat at the corner of the bar and order a Negroni, nursing it while surveying the crowd. I’m not there ten minutes when a short brunette staggers up to the counter, practically falling into the chair next to me. She’s very cute and very drunk. Her head bobs as she wavers on her chair. Instinctively, I reach out to steady her. She grabs my arm to stop herself from tipping over.
“Nice guns,” she says, squeezing my bicep, although I’m not sure she’s aware she said it out loud.
“Thanks.”
Her eyes squint trying to bring me into focus. “Max is a giant asshat.”
“I’m sure he is.”
She arches a brow. “Do you know him?”
“Can’t say that I do.”
“Well you’re lucky because he’s a giant asshat.”
“So I’ve heard. I’ll do my best to steer clear of him.”
This makes her smile. She opens her mouth but closes it, pursing her lips when someone yells, “Jen!” from across the room. She rolls her eyes. “Great, here comes the fun police.”
I glance up, almost falling off my own chair when I see the woman I’ve been fantasizing about all day making her way toward us. A sense of relief washes over her flawless face when she spots her friend.
“There she is! Alex, I found her. She’s over here,” the angel calls out over her shoulder, and I secretly hope Alex is either her
brother or gay best friend. Her pace quickens until she’s standing beside us. “Are you okay? You scared the crap out of us. We thought you left.”
“Nope, just sitting here talking to my new friend,” the woman I now know as Jen replies, patting my shoulder. The brunette’s eyes meet mine, hitting me like an electric bolt and stunning me speechless.
My gaze remains fixed, yet I’ve already memorized the way the soft light illuminates the high planes of her cheekbones; how those golden-orange flecks shine from her eyes like a beautiful sunrise, and the subtle curve of the Cupid’s bow of those full lips. She’s an angel in the flesh. Neither of us says a word. If I wanted to play it cool, I’m failing miserably.
“It’s you,” I eventually blurt out, immediately loathing myself for it. Her brows bunch in confusion at the weirdo that can’t stop staring at her. Normally, I’m smooth as silk, but this woman has me completely off my game. Thankfully, a blonde joins us before I utter another stupid word. I recognize her, but I don’t why.
“Damn it, Jen. You can’t just wander off alone like that,” she scolds, taking the seat next to us and eyeing me suspiciously. Now I’m certain I know her, but I have no clue from where.
“I told you, the fun police,” Jen groans. “Calm down, Alex. I wasn’t alone. I was making a hot new friend.” She grips my chin, angling my face toward her pals. “See? Isn’t he hot?”
“Jen!” my mystery woman exclaims, flabbergasted by her friend’s boldness. But the blonde shakes her head, smiling like she isn’t surprised at all.
“What? He is,” Jen states matter-of-factly, turning her attention back to me. “You are.”
“Thank you.” I chuckle. I don’t know if I’m more amused by the drunk girl doing all the talking or the look of embarrassment on her friend’s face, whose name I still haven’t caught.
“You’re welcome.” Jen smiles, patting my knee and leaving her hand there, although again, I don’t think it’s intentional.
The brunette huffs. “I’m sorry. She has this compulsion to tell attractive men they’re hot. Like they don’t already know it. Oh my god, Jen. Get your hand off his leg.”
“No …,” Jen comments, staring down at it before pulling it away as if she’s just had an internal conversation the rest of us weren’t privy to. “You’re insanely hot and it would serve him right, but I hate hot men right now. Except Colin. But he’s not a man.”
Alex laughs. “I’ll be sure to tell Colin you said that.”
“Tell me she said what?” A man with eyes almost as black as his hair appears from behind slipping his arms around the blonde’s waist. I immediately recognize him as the actor, Colin Caine. It finally dawns on me that the blonde, Alex, is actually actress Lexa Leigh. I don’t get star struck nor do I keep up with celebrity gossip, but Angie lived for it, so I’m familiar with their story. They’ve been through hell and back. It’s nice to see they appear to have overcome everything thrown at them.
“Jen says you’re not a man.”
He cocks a brow. “Is that so?”
“You know what I mean. You’re like my brother. That’d be gross,” Jen explains, shuddering at the thought. She takes a swig of her drink then pats my back again. “I was just telling our new friend here that I hate hot men right now.”
We all snicker. The brunette drops her head in her hand, uncertain what to make of Jen’s declaration. When she glances up, I wink, speaking to Jen while keeping my eyes trained on her. “Only the hot ones? So ugly men are okay?”
Jen considers my question for a minute. “No, I hate them too. If you have a penis, I pretty much think you suck. No offense. I’m sure your penis is lovely.” Her eyes fall to my crotch.
“Well, I’m not sure it’s ever been called lovely, but I’ve never had any complaints.” I smirk, locking eyes again with the woman that has me captivated. A blush spreads over her cheeks and it’s adorable. When I look back Jen is still fixated on my package. I lean over and whisper, “I’m not showing it to you.”
Without the slightest hint of embarrassment at being caught, she shrugs and wags her finger at me. “You’re funny. You married?”
“No, ma’am.
“Gay?”
“Oh god!” The brunette cringes, and thoughts of her beneath me screaming
that several times against my skin has me shifting in my chair. She turns to whisper something to Alex and I already miss her face.
“Put that man’s drinks on my bill,” Colin instructs the bartender, pointing to me with sympathy.
Chuckling, I wave him off letting him know it’s not necessary. I’m enjoying myself for the first time in I can’t remember how long. It’s strange but I feel like a part of this group—like I belong. And it’s nice, even if it’s not real.
“So, are you?” Jen presses.
“What? Gay? Definitely not.” I swig my drink and smile. “But I’m still not showing you my penis.”
“No, no, no. Not me.” She waves her hand dismissively while searching behind her. “Nyla! Where’d she go? Oh! There you are. Come here.”
She yanks the brunette by the arm, causing her to fall into me. The innocent contact sets my skin prickling with awareness. I repeat her name in my head. Nyla. She gazes up at me through long, thick lashes, and even though she seems embarrassed and timid, I can see fire in her eyes. And I like it. A lot.
Jen smiles. “You should show her your penis. It’s been a long time since she’s seen one that doesn’t require batteries.”
“Jen!” Nyla’s eyes grow wide, mortified by her friend’s blatant lack of discretion, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything cuter in my life.
“What? It’s true.” Jen motions for me to come closer continuing in a drunken whisper loud enough for half the bar to hear. “The woman’s single-handedly keeping Duracell in business.”
I burst out laughing, along with everyone else. Nyla buries her face in her hands and turns toward the bar. “I want to die. Drink! Can I get a drink here, please?”
Images of Nyla naked on a bed pleasuring herself has me both turned on and jealous. I would give anything for a front row seat to that. No. Fuck that. I want to be the one making her body hum.
“Uh-oh … incoming,” Colin mutters, taking a pull from his beer. I glance over my shoulder to find a man about six-foot-two with dirty blonde hair making a beeline for us. His eyes flick from Jen to me and back again.
“Can I have a word with you?” he bites out through gritted teeth, shifting his gaze to me. “Take a hike, pal.”
I raise my hands in surrender to let him know I wasn’t hitting on his woman. She’s not the one I’m interested in. Unfortunately, Jen’s not letting him off that easy. She hops off her chair and locks her arm around mine, keeping me next to her.
“No, you may not. I’m talking to my hot, funny friend with the lovely penis.”
Well, damn. I can’t believe she actually said that. The guy looks like a champagne bottle someone shook up and is about to pop. It’s obvious he wants to kick my ass, and after that remark, I’m going to have to let him.
“This is Max. The asshat I was telling you about,” Jen informs me.
“Asshat? That’s a helluva thing to say about your boss.” His fingers wrap lightly around her wrist. “Let’s go Jennifer. We’re leaving.”
I set my drink down and stand, ready to step in if necessary. I don’t make a habit of getting involved in other people’s relationships, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let a man touch a woman or make her do something against her will. Nyla places a hand on my shoulder.
“It’s okay. It’s kind of what they do.” Her minty breath kisses my ear and I’m no longer thinking about Jen and Max. They can kill each other for all I care.
I notice Nyla’s smiling, so I sit back down on the stool. Our eyes meet again, making the rest of the bar, along with everyone in it fade away. I’m about to tell her I’m perfectly willing to help her save money on batteries when Jen knocks into us, interrupting our intimate moment.
“No!” she exclaims, jerking her wrist from Max. “Don’t think you can walk in here with your perfect hair, in your perfect suit, with your stupid perfect face and rock-hard body, smelling all yummy and …”
“Is she trying to insult him? Because she kind of sucks at it,” I remark, garnering a laugh from the group.
Alex intercedes. “Jen, honey, where’re you going with this? Reel it in, sweetie.”
“He thinks he’s just sooooo perfect. That just because he has money, everyone has to bow down and cater to his spoiled rotten ass.”
Max’s nostrils flare. “That’s enough, Jennifer.”
“No. You can’t just come waltzing in here like you own the place.”
“I do own the place!” Max fires back, throwing his hands up in exasperation.
His remark prompts me to take a good look at his face. That’s when it clicks. Max is the Maximus Steele–billionaire, Wall Street golden boy, owner of Steele Industries, and quite possibly my new boss. And now he thinks I was hitting on his girl. Not good.
“Well you don’t own me! You don’t get to order me around like I’m one of your little gold-digging whores. You can take your money and your fancy pedigree and shove them right up your ass!”
He takes her by the elbow. “I said ‘enough!’ You’re drunk. And we’re leaving.”
She yanks her arm away. “I’m not going anywhere with you!”
“Damn it! Don’t push me, Jen.”
“Or what? You’ll throw me over your knee?” she challenges, jabbing a finger into his chest. “Don’t try pulling that Christian Grey crap with me ’cause let me tell you something buddy boy, not all of us want a Christian Grey. Some of us are Christian Grey. Not that you’ll ever be lucky enough to know it.”
“That’s it!” Max grabs her by the back of the thighs and hoists her over his shoulder, carrying her toward the door. She throws up her hands, staring back at us in disbelief.
I’m standing there like an idiot wondering what I should do, but everyone else is smiling. Nyla must read the look on my face because she pats my forearm. “Trust me. It’s fine.”
“Call me tomorrow,” Alex calls after them.
“I will. You,” Jen shouts, pointing at me from her half-bent position. “Remember to show Nyla your penis.”
Nyla stiffens. Colin and Alex collapse into laughter.
“I’ll do my best,” I reply, raising my glass, earning me two thumbs up from Jen.
“We have to go, too,” Colin announces, helping Alex from her stool. “Nyla are you staying, or do you want us to drop you off?”
As soon as he says the words my chest tightens. Nyla’s eyes flick from the couple to me. “Ummm …”
I’m not ready for her to leave. The effect this woman is having on me is ridiculous. I should let her go. I’m going to let her go. It’s for the best. I’m here to do a job and I don’t need to get sidetracked. And this woman could definitely sidetrack me.
“Stay and have a drink with me,” I blurt. So much for letting her go. Apparently, my dick has control of my mouth right now.
A smile lights up Nyla’s face. “No, go on ahead. I think I’ll stay for a bit.”
“Alright. Call me tomorrow,” Alex says, hugging her friend goodbye.
Colin offers me his hand. When I shake it, I notice my palms are sweaty. I’m nervous. I’m never nervous. I’ve had a gun pointed in my face on more than one occasion and never flinched. But now, I feel like a teenager on his first date.
Colin flashes me a knowing grin. “Yep. Been there, man. The women in this family knock you on your ass the second you lay eyes on ’em.”
He glances at Alex and you can see the love in his eyes. I’m immediately jealous of it. I watch the intimacy they have between them as he helps her with her sweater and places his hand on the small of her back, guiding her out the door. I want that.
“Sickeningly cute, aren’t they?” Nyla’s says, making me aware I’m staring.
“Yes.”
“I’d be jealous if they weren’t both such great people and didn’t deserve everything they have.” She scoffs at her own words. “Who am I kidding? I’m still jealous.” The bartender approaches asking if we need anything. Nyla greets him with enthusiasm. “Um, yes. I think I’d like
a real drink. Can I have a dirty martini, please?”
“A real drink? What’re you drinking now?” I ask, inspecting her glass.
“Just water. I was on Jen duty tonight.”
“Ah, is that why she called you the ‘fun police.’”
“She said that?” A line creases Nyla’s forehead. “Well, she’s not wrong. But someone’s got to watch out for her. She tends to get a little out of control when she has some alcohol in her, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
I laugh. “It was hard not to.”
“Right? Thankfully it’s not that often.” She lets out a wistful sigh. “But I guess I’m not much fun in general. I don’t get to be careless. I always have to be the responsible one.”
“Always?”
“Always,” she replies, staring poignantly into her glass. “Don’t get me wrong. I’d love to be able to let go and be bad or do something a little wild, but I’m too much of a control freak.”
I trail a finger down her arm and hit her with an impish grin. “I can help you with that. I’m very good at being bad.”
She throws her head back with a laugh. “Somehow I don’t doubt that for a second.”
The bartender returns setting a martini on the napkin in front of her. He motions his head toward the billiards section. “Table one just opened up if you still want it.”
“Colin must have put his name in,” Nyla surmises, taking the cocktail sword from the glass and capturing an olive in her mouth. She drags it down slowly with her teeth and it’s one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen.
“Do you play? If not, I’d be happy to teach you,” I offer, hoping she says ‘yes’ because I need to do something with my hands. I’ve had to stop myself from tucking her hair behind her ear at least four times.
She bats her eyelashes. “Aww, you would do that?”