Tonya turns her attention on us. “Harvey, go with him,” she says, jerking her head in my direction. “Make sure he plays nice. And take some candid photos.”
Harvey looks ecstatic at the prospect of babysitting me and taking my picture, since he knows it’ll annoy me to no end. “Yes, ma’am.”
“The ladies have already signed an NDA,” she says, holding up her phone for me to see before arching a brow at me. “And if I see one damn scowl in those pictures, I will literally put your face on a billboard,” she threatens.
She’ll do it, too.
“I’ll make sure he has fun and does all the good bachelor dating stuff,” Trix offers.
Tonya beams at her. “You’re just a treasure. Okay, gotta run. Have fun!”
She strides away without another word, already with her phone to her ear again.
“Ladies…” Harvey says holding out his arm. “Shall we?”
The three of them start walking away, leaving me to grumble behind them, my head spinning and my attitude dropping.
What the fuck did I just get coerced into?
Chapter 13
Trix
“This is the place you’ve chosen for my date?” Warren asks, looking all pouty in his suit as he stares at the outside of the restaurant like it’s personally offending him.
“Yep. The ambiance is amazing, huh?”
If looks could hit, I’m pretty sure he just bitch slapped me.
“People sit on the floor. Which, quite frankly, can’t be sanitary. And they reach rudely across the table to share communal food,” he points out.
“I know, isn’t it great?”
I lead the way for all four of us go inside, and as soon as I step over the threshold, I take in a deep breath, a smile stretching across my face. It smells so good. Better than I ever imagined. I flew in here a bunch of times before, just because I liked the vibe.
Bright colors are everywhere, sheer drapery hanging from the ceiling, colored lights, steaming Moroccan food set on low tables where people eat perched on pillows on the floor.
I always thought that if I were human, this place would be one of the first places I’d visit. The ceiling is pink, and the pillows are silk, for cupid’s sake. It’s just meant to be.
“Oh, this place is killer,” Blue says beside me, taking it all in.
A beautiful hostess comes forward wearing a djellaba, her long robe adorned with bright red fabric and purple threads on the front in intricate embellishment. She smiles warmly at us as she leads us to a table. Instead of sitting down immediately, I wait off to the side, observing Warren.
Harvey plops happily down on one of the pillows and starts looking through the menu. Blue sits down next to him at the round table, and Warren sulks for a good five seconds as he stands over them both.
“Aren’t you going to sit?” I prompt.
He scowls at me. Not the best start.
A group of people at a table nearby notice Warren and start stealing looks and whispering. He tenses and then grudgingly sits down. It’s funny to watch this six-foot-something dude get on the floor and somehow fold his long legs to fit under the table as he rests on bright pink and teal pillows. This is definitely not his scene, which is precisely why I chose it. I wanted to shake him up.
Since he chose to sit next to Harvey rather than Blue, I fill the gap with a shake of my head. “That seating choice is gonna cost you,” I tell him as I sit crossed-legged beside him.
“In more ways than one,” he grumbles.
He looks so out of place here in his expensive suit, even sans jacket. At least Harvey had the smarts to roll the sleeves of his dress shirt up against his forearms. Not Warren. He’s full CEO mode still, in a room full of midriff tops and bright colors.
This is gonna be fun.
I pick up the menu and start perusing it at the same time that Warren does.
“This is all in Arabic,” he says, flipping through the laminated pages.
I squint at the pages. “Hmm. Maybe I can speak Arabic,” I say, letting my eyes trail over the words. Because I can definitely read English, so maybe in my former life I was a linguist or something. Crazier things have happened.
When I continue looking over the menu, Warren prompts, “Well? Can you?”
I close the menu with a little plastic slap and set it down. “Nope. Not at all.”
He mumbles something under his breath that I don’t catch.
“Okay, first lesson,” I announce, straightening up. “Mingle. So far, you’re terrible at mingling.”
“I don’t mingle.”
“You do when you’re on a date. Go on,” I say, waving a hand in Blue’s direction.
“Yeah, mingle me,” Blue says with her brow arched.
Warren looks back at her coolly. “No.”
“Good grief,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Okay, here. Watch me.” I turn to Harvey, who’s looking happy as a clam as he lounges back on the pillows, watching the belly dancers from across the way.
“Harvey, I really love your tie, where’d you get it?”
His blue eyes land on me, the edges crinkling with humor as he smoothes down his loosened tie. “My mother, I think.”
“Aww, are you and your mother close?”
“My mother is a saint. She raised four boys on her own, the way only a strong woman can.”
Blue looks at him with new respect and raises a fist to him in solidarity. “Women run the world, yo.”
Harvey bumps his fist to hers. “Word.”
The waitress comes up then, and she’s jingling at the hips because she’s also one of the belly dancers. She has beautiful brown skin, slightly dewy with sweat from her dance. Her straight black hair hangs down her back, and she has ornate henna painted around her belly button.
“Ready to order?”
“I’ll have the lentil stew,” Blue says.
“Couscous,” Harvey puts in.
“And you?” the waitress asks Warren.
“Nothing for me.”
I interject. “Don’t listen to him.” I rip the menu from his hands and then close my eyes and let my finger land in a random spot. I open my eyes and show her the food item. “He’ll have this.”
“Tagine? Very good,” she says with a nod. “And you?”
I do the same pick-trick again. “I’ll have this one.”
“And the harissa. Excellent. I’ll put that in for you and bring you more tea.”
She turns to leave, her hips jingling all the way.
Harvey and Blue start talking about the evolution of feminism, while Warren glowers at me. “What?” I ask.
“You know I was coerced into going on this date.”
“Yeah, by Tonya. I like her.”
“I used to,” he mutters.
“Oh, don’t be such a baby,” I tell him, leaning over to start messing with his tie.
He freezes as my hand grazes his neck. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to get you to loosen up, of course. Lesson number two: Relax.”
He studies my face. “Mingle and relax. Those are your groundbreaking matchmaker tips so far?”
“Yep,” I say, still messing with his tie. “And it’s awesome advice that you’re doing a terrible job of following.”
I thought that I could handle loosening the knot since I managed to tie his shoelaces together earlier, but all I manage to do is make his tie even tighter. He finally gets frustrated and bats me away to do it himself.
“There,” he says, loosening it. “Happy?”
I lean forward again and pop open the top button of his shirt before he can stop me. I lean back and smile, pleased at my work. “That’s better.”
“So glad you approve,” he says dryly.
I arch a brow. “You’re doing it again,” I say, lifting my cup to take a sip of tea. It’s blazingly hot, making my eyes instantly water from the burn, but the refreshing taste hits my tongue, so I savor every second.
“Doing what again?” Warren
asks, though I notice his eyes are trained on my mouth as I pull the cup away and lick my lips.
“Letting your asshole leak out,” I tell him honestly before taking another sip. “Shit, that’s hot,” I add with a wince.
When I raise the cup again, he shoves his hand above the cup and presses it down. “Stop drinking it if it’s burning you every time.”
“But I’ve never had it before, and it’s yummy.”
He takes the cup from me and sets it down on the table. “Just wait until it’s cooled down.”
“Oh, yeah. Smart.”
We both look over when Blue and Harvey erupt into laughter over something they’re talking about. They’re deep in conversation and have somehow moved onto the topic of hemp versus cotton production. Blue is adamantly trying to convince him why Knight Enterprises should make the switch.
“Hemp uses nearly fifty percent less water than cotton,” she tells him. “And it produces over two hundred percent more fibers than cotton. It just makes sense.”
“I’ll admit, you’ve intrigued me,” Harvey tells her, but I don’t miss the way his eyes keep dropping to her chest.
Are they sitting closer together than they were a few minutes ago, or is it my imagination?
“This shirt is hemp,” Blue says, pulling on the small tee that she’s wearing under her overalls.
“See?” I interject. “You argued with me about wearing a shirt tonight, and look how it’s paying off. You guys are nailing the mingling thing...even if you’re doing it with the wrong guy,” I add pointedly.
Blue just shrugs.
Harvey cocks a blonde brow at her. “You weren’t gonna wear a shirt?”
Blue shakes her head. “I prefer to go without. We live in a nudist colony,” she explains.
Warren starts choking on his tea, so I reach over to pat him on the back. “Okay, big guy?”
He pounds a fist against his chest. When he finally gets his choking under control, he looks over at me, his cheeks flushed.
I guess the whole nudist topic requires more advanced mingling skills. Who knew?
Chapter 14
Trix
“You’re a nudist?” Warren asks incredulously.
“That explains her office attire,” Harvey says with a grin.
“Well, I’m technically just living at a nudist colony. I’m not sure if I’m gonna be a nudist myself. Although, clothes chafing is legit, so I understand the appeal.”
His dark eyes flick down to my chest, and I follow his gaze, seeing my nipples hardening against the fabric of my dress. “See what I mean?”
He jerks his gaze away like his eyeballs are on fire before picking up his teacup and downing the entire thing. He puts the cup down with a grimace. “Fuck. That is hot.”
“What happened to waiting for it to cool down?” I admonish.
“Warren here needed something to wet his tongue. Didn’t you, War?” Harvey jokes.
Warren narrows his eyes on his friend. “I will fire you.”
Harvey chuckles. “No, you won’t. You hate people. You hired me to be your people person so you don’t have to deal with them.”
I glance at Warren. “Is that true?”
“Yes,” he mutters uncomfortably while messing with the buttons on his sleeves.
He looks so awkward sitting here on the silky pillows, his tie looking like it’s about to become a noose. His cheeks are red, his knees keep hitting the edge of the table, and every time someone looks at him, his shoulders tense. For the first time ever, Warren Knight looks totally out of his element, and it’s adorably sexy.
“Harvey has his job, you have yours. You’re a good team,” I say, trying to encourage him. “What’s your favorite part of your job?”
Surprise flits over his face at my question for a half-second. “Entrepreneurship. I like creating new businesses,” he answers after a beat.
I study him thoughtfully. “Yeah, I can see that. It suits you. Is that what the whole dating app thing was about?”
He nods slowly. “Yes.”
“Warren here is moving Knight Enterprises forward.”
Warren only looks slightly mollified. “I try.”
“Look, you’re mingling! You’re doing great,” I praise him quietly.
He looks pained at the realization.
“He can mingle about work because that’s his forte. He has a knack for business,” Harvey puts in.
“Well,” Blue cuts in, “Mr. Hotshot Knight should get a knack for preserving wildlife instead of constructing hotel conglomerates. He should also ensure that his company is giving equal opportunity to females in the workplace, and he should consider—”
“Changing our cotton mills to hemp, yes, I’ll make sure we look into all of it,” Harvey tells her. “But for the record, Knight Enterprises’ employment rate for female executives is fourteen percent higher than competing companies.”
This seems to appease Blue immediately, though she tries not to show it. “Oh. Well. Good. But there’s always room for improvement,” she says with a sniff.
Harvey grins at her. “Indeed. Let me know if you’d like to come in for a consultation. I’d be happy to go over some...numbers with you,” he tells her, his gaze going right past friendly and into flirtatious.
Blue’s lips curl up. “Yeah? Well, I’ll see if I can fit you in.”
“Oh, I’ll fit,” he says with a wink.
My mouth drops open in surprise as my cupid mark tingles slightly. Oh shit, they’re totally flirting. And my cupid powers are responding to it.
“You’re trading sexual innuendos with my date,” Warren drawls, sounding bored.
Harvey shrugs, totally unconcerned. “Guess I’m better at mingling than you are,” he says with amusement.
“He has you there,” I tell Warren.
Just to be an ass, Harvey pulls out his phone and takes several of the candid photos that Tonya required until Warren threatens to punch him in the jugular. In Harvey’s defense, we’re an incredibly photogenic group.
The waitress comes back with a full tray of food and starts piling plates on our low table. Warren and I stare down at our plate of...whatever it is we got, while Harvey and Blue immediately dig in.
Mine looks like some kind of stew, and it smells divine. I glance over at Warren’s earthenware plate, which is full of steaming vegetables and chicken. “Looks good.”
He makes a noncommittal noise as he starts to pick apart the food, going so far as to separate the like vegetables into piles.
Shaking my head at him, I dive into my own bowl and take a bite, glad to find that the temperature doesn’t singe my tongue off. Flavors explode in my mouth. “Oh shit,” I say. “I didn’t know there were so many tastes!” I say excitedly, as I sop up the stew in the flatbread that it came with.
I’m starving, since my vegan sandwich just didn’t cut it earlier, so I keep shoveling more in my mouth before I can even swallow.
It’s right around bite seven that my taste buds catch up with me.
My spoon falls with a clank into the bowl like an A-bomb being dropped to the ground. A mushroom cloud of red stew burbles up, almost in slow motion, and nails me in the face at exactly the same time that my mouth drops open and a frenzied shriek rips from my throat. “Oh shitfire whiskey, that’s hot! My mouth!”
Panicked, I jump to my feet and start running around, as if the wind at my flapping tongue is somehow going to put out the invisible fire currently burning my mouth.
Tears stream down my face, and in my blurry hurry, I run into a belly dancer, who then runs into a waitress, who then runs into a table and sends food and pillows flying across the room.
People scream. Dishes break. Food splatters. The sound effects are very dramatic.
I land reverse-starfish mode this time, the breath stolen from my chest as I hit the floor. Boogers, tears, and fiery saliva drip out of me, and I feel a definitive draft down below from where my dress flipped up.
Oh. My. Gods.
/> I try to get up, but really, what’s the point?
This is the most embarrassing moment of my second life, and I’ve only been alive for, like, nine hours. This is not a good start.
Someone hauls me up by my arms and helps to pull my dress down again, and then I’m sat down on some pillows. A paper napkin gets brushed over my face, cleaning the food off me, and then I feel the metal of a spoon touch my lips. My mouth is already open, my poor tongue waving around like a white flag trying to surrender.
I don’t even feel what gets shoved into my mouth for a few seconds until something cold and sweet coats my tongue. At least I think it’s sweet, but my taste buds just burned off, so who really knows?
After the fourth bite gets shoved into my mouth, my tears finally dry up enough for me to be able to see that it’s Warren sitting in front of me, holding a bowl of ice cream as he spoon-feeds me.
He pauses when he sees me come out of my spice coma. “Better?”
I nod numbly. “Behhaar,” I slur, without the use of my tongue. It’s still hanging out of my mouth like I’m a panting dog.
“You okay, girl?” Blue asks, kneeling next to me.
“Cannn heell eyyy hunnnngue,” I tell her.
“Bet you’re missing that vegan sandwich right about now, yeah?” she asks with a smartass smirk.
I want to curse her out, but my tongue is still down for the count, and I don’t want to make a bigger scene than I already have, so instead, I flip her off like a lady.
“You’re a vegan?” Harvey asks her, like he’s mildly disappointed.
She straightens up, full of attitude, and perches her hands on her hips. “I don’t eat things that have feelings,” she says with defiance, as if she’s just daring him to counter.
“No?” he asks, leaning closer to her with heat in his eyes. “Well, I love nothing more than to eat out red-blooded women and let their feelings drip all over me.”
Wow. That was really dirty. And honestly, pretty clever.
Based on the way her eyes dilate and she shifts on her feet, Blue looks like she’s about ready to be converted.
Can't Fix Cupid Page 10