Dirty Talk

by S. L. Scott

  Once again he looks pleased. “Well, this is a surprise. A good surprise. Stay on top of your job. Get some rest and we’ll talk soon.”

  “My body’s my temple.”

  “Okay, you’re laying it on a bit thick now. Just look good and let me do the rest.”

  “Deal. See ya later, boss man.”

  “Later.”

  When I close the door, Jody spins around in her chair. “So, are you going to do a movie?”

  “I’ll look at the scripts. Mark said you have some invitations for me?” I sit down in a vacant chair and roll over to her desk.

  “I do. You’ve got fancy schmancy events to go to. How about I run through them and you can say yes or no and then we’ll go through the yeses?”

  “Sounds good.”

  Five yeses and twenty-three nos later, I’m on my way to Luke’s. The door is open so I go on in. “Dude, has it started?”

  His arm is draped over the back of the couch. He turns over his shoulder. “Nope, five minutes. You’re just in time.” He drinks beer from a bottle, then says, “Grab a brew. I ordered pizza.”

  “Fuck you and that pizza.” I grab a bottle of Vitamin Water from the fridge.

  “What? You dieting, princess?”

  “I have a shoot in two days. I can’t eat pizza.” Walking in, I sit on the other side of the couch and kick off my sneakers and use the coffee table as a footrest.

  “The tough life of a model. Guess that means more for me.”

  “Yeah. Yeah.”

  “What’d you do today?”

  “Met up with Holli.”

  “So let me guess, you had drinks with her but not me?”

  I kick him in the leg. “You jealous?”

  “I’m jealous of you. She’s still fucking hot. I saw her on some blog the other day.”

  “Man, don’t talk about her. Anyway, you reading the gossip blogs and have the nerve to call me princess?”

  “Dude, she was in a bikini.”

  “Good point. Okay, forgiven.”

  The game starts and we go quiet because watching a game requires intense concentration. Two minutes in, Luke stands, points at the TV, and yells, “Fuck you! Shit. If this is how the game is gonna go down, I should have bought more beer.”

  Damn. The opposing team already scored. “Grab me one. I can tell I’m going to need it.”

  The doorbell rings and he hands me a beer as he goes to answer it. When he returns he sets the pizza on the table in front of us, then hands me a salad. I smile. “Aw bro, you do love me.”

  “I love you buying rounds of drinks. For you to keep doing that, I need you to keep working. Enjoy your lettuce, princess.”

  I kick him again. Just ’cuz.

  I don’t know why we’re still watching. Our team has had their ass kicked by halftime and it feels like Luke and I have had ours kicked as well. We’re both sunk into the couch on our respective sides, stuffed… well as stuffed as you can be from a plain garden salad with no dressing and chicken. The beer’s doing a good job though. “Each one of these bottles is five hundred crunches or two more miles for me to run. Tomorrow is going to suck.”

  “Are you showing off dresses or shoes this time?”

  “Fuck, dude, you don’t even want to know.”

  “Really?” Now his interest looks piqued.

  “Jeans and boxers with a Victoria Secret model that was hired. Lots of bed action. They told me to sex it up, if you get my drift.”

  “Fuuuuck,” he says, shaking his head. “I hate you. I hate you so fucking much right now. How did you get so lucky?”

  “Good-looking parents. Ha!” Just then a knock cuts the laughter and we turn as if the door is going to open itself. “You expecting company?”

  He gets up to answer it. “Not that I know of.” The game comes back on, but the surprise visitor is more interesting than this sad game.

  The door is opened, and I hear, “Jane?”

  I sit up and angle forward to get a view of the scene that’s about to play out.

  “Hi,” she says to him, but her eyes shift to me. “Hi, Danny.”

  Raising my hand, I reply, “Hi.”

  “I’m sorry for interrupting. I can come back another time.” She starts to back out of the doorway.

  He takes her by the hand, holding her. “No, now’s good. We can talk out back.”

  She nods, and they walk to the back patio. The glass sliding door is closed, cutting off any chance of me eavesdropping. I still can’t help but watch as they move around each other, each step a careful dance—close, but not too close.

  I look down at my phone, feeling guilty for watching. To see two people who thought they would always be together act so cautiously around each other is hard to watch. The tension is felt from here. Yet when I look up, even I can see how much they care about one another. But something, egos, other people, life or all of the above has gotten in the way, blinded them to what’s right in front of them.

  I’ve always liked Jane, but my friend is going to be messed up from this visit. She’s not here to make up, which is the only outcome that won’t screw him up more than he is now because of her.

  She starts crying and Luke rushes to hold her. When she sees me through the glass, she turns to face the other direction. I get up, not wanting to witness this either. It may be him going through it, but it’s rubbing the rawness that Reese left behind.

  I go into the kitchen and lean against the counter to give them complete privacy. They come inside and walk to the front door. When they leave, I go back into the living room and turn the volume of the game back up.

  Luke returns a few minutes later. I’m not a girl so I don’t pepper him with questions the second he sits down. I let him be. Not wanting those same questions thrown back at me. A commercial is muted, and he says, “She said she’s been thinking about me.”

  Turning to him, I don’t add my own commentary, his own thoughts are probably adding enough color to not want to add to that confusion. He turns to me and adds, “I still love her.”

  I nod.

  “She said she had to tell me she’d been thinking about me. Do you think she was feeling things out? How I felt for her?”

  “That makes sense.”

  “Does that make me her fallback?”

  “No. It means you both got off track. Maybe you’ll get back on, back to where you’re supposed to be.”

  The game comes back on and the volume is loud again, the conversation over. We’re guys. We’re great like that.

  The TV goes silent again. “Would you take Reese back?”

  So I’m wrong. We’re two women sitting around talking about our exes I guess. “Fuck. Why are you saying her name?”

  “I’m serious, Danny. Would you?”

  I drop my head into my hands, frustrated by more than just his question. “I don’t know. I’ve been questioning myself lately. She looked good, but do I know her anymore? I don’t know anything about her life in New York other than where she works. That’s not you and Jane. Don’t compare.”

  “I think we’re kind of in the same boat here. Whether you want to believe it or not.”

  “Here’s what I don’t want. I don’t want to think about it. It’s all I’ve been thinking about—”

  “See?” He reaches toward me. “Here’s your oar. Get to paddling.”

  “We’re not in the same boat. You’ve been broken up for more than a year but have kept in touch. Reese and I haven’t.”

  He starts paddling with an imaginary oar. “Until now, which conveniently you haven’t told me about. How’d it go the other night?”

  “It sucked. Reese looked incredible. She’s smart and funny and when she drinks, she gets all adorable and stuff.”

  He grins some righteous smile he’s pulled out of his ass to taunt me with. “Adorable, dude, really?”

  I shake my head at myself. “I’m done for. She’s gonna destroy me twice.”

  “Or maybe this time… maybe this time
it works out.”

  “Speak for yourself and turn the game back on. Enough of this emotional feely stuff.”

  He chugs his beer. “You know I’m right.”

  I reach for the remote but he turns the volume back up so I sit back, arms crossed, irritated, and stare at the TV.

  “Danny likes Reeeeese,” he sings.

  I peg a pillow at his head and jump down on him. We end up in a heap on the floor wrestling until I have him pinned face down with his arm behind his back. “Stop it. No more Reese talk. Got it.”

  “Got it.”

  “Admit you want Jane.”

  “I want Jane.”

  I stand pushing off my knees. “Then go after your girl.”

  He tosses the pillow back at me, but I deflect sending it back at him. When I turn the volume back up, our team scores. Perfect timing. Fist-pumping already, we stand and throw in a chest bump to get rid of the earlier talk about our feelings.

  After taking a long swig from the bottle, he says, “Did you notice that you said her name three times? No cringing. No hesitation. Just said it like it was second nature?”

  Glaring at him, I want to tell him to shut the fuck up, but the smile that’s growing across my face prevents me. So I just enjoy that her name feels so comfortable on my tongue again.

  “Maybe there’s hope for us both, Dan Man.”

  “Maybe,” I reply, thinking four extra miles tomorrow will be worth the two beers tonight.

  CHAPTER 12

  ~Reese~

  KEATON IS STANDING at the bar cart in his corner office with his back to me. My heart is pounding in my chest. When he turns around, the ice in his scotch rattles against the glass. “Why are you so upset?”

  “You gave this account to me.”

  “Gave. That’s the operative word, Reese.”

  “I earned this account. I earned it by having the best concept with my ideas, and winning Vittori over. Why are you doing this?”

  “It’s dinner with one of my clients. I don’t see the problem.”

  “You’re my boss. How does that look if I can’t handle a simple dinner meeting? I just traveled with the man for the last two weeks. I think I can handle dinner.”

  “Boss? I used to be more.” He sighs, but I’m numb to his disappointment in me at this stage.

  I walk to the window and stare out. The view is one of the best in the city. The view of Central Park from his home rivals it. I give in like I always do, knowing he’s going to do as he pleases. “Whatever.”

  “What was that?”

  When I turn to face him again, I don’t let my eyes meet his. Instead I stare at the Windsor knot at his neck wanting to tighten it. “This is going nowhere,” I say grabbing my purse from the chair. “I’ll see you at eight.”

  “See you at eight, sweetheart.”

  I hated how condescending he was when he called me that while we were dating, but now that we’re not, I want to throat punch him. I grit my teeth instead, and say, “With bells on.” I don’t slam the door per se, but my emotions are heard loudly through the empty office.

  Dinner is tense between Keaton and me. I’m hoping Vinnie doesn’t notice, but as I discovered in LA, he’s quite observant. Keaton doesn’t like him. He doesn’t fit the mold of what Keaton would choose for a friend. Another reason we wouldn’t have worked out. Keaton asks, “How has working with Reese been?”

  Vinnie smiles when he looks at me, but some of the joy is lost when he faces Keaton. “She’s impressive. Not only does she speak French but she charms everyone she meets. I’m quite taken with her. If you’re not careful I might try to steal her away from Klein Advertising.”

  Keaton’s eyes dart to mine before he responds, “She’s very loyal to my family. I’m sure there’s nothing that could sway her away.”

  Vinnie sets his glass of wine down after taking a sip, and cuts into his steak. “I’m sure I can think of something.”

  I clear my throat. “Can we please stop talking about me like I’m not sitting right here?”

  Keaton reaches over and rests his hand on the back of my chair. Completely inappropriate, but he knows I can’t argue with him in front of clients… or anyone. I hate being the center of attention, especially when it involves drama.

  “Sorry,” Keaton says with a fake frown of remorse. “I feel so lucky to have you onboard. I’m willing to fight for you.”

  “This isn’t a battle. No one’s at war.” I touch Vinnie’s hand. “Thank you. I’ve been missing you after having a few days away.”

  His other hand covers mine. “It was a grand adventure, but now the fun really begins. The dates are set?”

  “Yes, for all but Paris. Let me know when you decide if Rome is still part of the vision. Then I’ll finalize the dates for Europe.”

  “What about Mr. Weston?”

  The wine thickens as I swallow. Avoiding Keaton’s intense stare, I look to the friendlier face of the two. “What about Mr. Weston?”

  “Have we found him a suitable mate?”

  I almost spew my drink across the table. Instead I start hacking up a lung, my throat burning as I struggle to catch my breath. Keaton takes any opportunity he’s given and jumps into action, wrapping himself around me while clapping my back.

  Basically making it worse and extremely awkward. I fight the urge to hit him back, but catch my breath and tell him to stop, reassuring him until he sits back down and all the eyes in the restaurant are off me.

  Vinnie is laughing too hard to be of any use. I roll my eyes when he asks, “Was it something I said?”

  I glare.

  “Are we talking about the model?” Keaton asks, seeming confused.

  Vinnie responds before I can, “Yes. He’s absolutely purr-worthy, and our little Reese scored with him. Right, Reese?”

  Keaton is glancing between us. “What do you mean Reese scored with him?”

  Holding my breath, I wait for him to answer and pray he says the right thing. “Excuse me. I meant scored him. She closed the deal.”

  I quickly add to that, “He signed on to the project.”

  Vinnie adds, “As for his colleague in the campaign, we need to finalize our choice. I’m going to go through the last three contenders’ portfolios tomorrow. I’ll let you know who I think will turn up the heat for the photos with our leading man.”

  Keaton scans the room. “Where’s our waitress? I need another drink.”

  “Maybe it will be quicker for you to go to the bar,” I suggest, wanting some time with Vinnie.

  “Great idea. Come with me. I want to discuss something.”

  “I think I should stay with our guest.”

  “Eh,” he says, waving Vinnie off, “he’ll be fine.”

  Vinnie says, “Go ahead. I’ll use the restroom.”

  I stand, pushing out my chair and set my napkin on the table. Weaving between the tables to reach the bar, I’m in shock over Keaton’s behavior, so my sarcasm seeps out. “Haven’t you had enough to drink tonight? Maybe you should go home.”

  “I want you back, Reese.”

  Backing away from his probing hand, I remark, “Your wants are no longer my concern.”

  “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that you’re your own worst enemy?”

  “I never stuck around long enough.”

  He laughs, but he’s not amused. “Truer words never spoken.”

  “I’m not having this conversation here.”

  “You never want to have this conversation, but I’m tired of waiting.”

  “I’m not a possession you control anymore. So you’d be wise to back off and set your sights elsewhere.”

  “My eyes are set right here. You will not make me look the fool. I let you postpone the wedding, but it’s time you get back in line with what’s happening.”

  “I didn’t postpone the wedding. The wedding was never going to happen. Hell, the engagement never even happened. But really, Keaton, why do you want someone who doesn’t want you?” I laugh, but I fi
nd nothing funny about this situation.

  The back of his hand slides down my bare arm. “We can be great again, like we once were. If you’d only open your eyes to the possibility of a reconciliation.”

  “The only thing I will reconcile is that you’re a cheater and a liar.”

  “I treated you very well when we were together.”

  “Whether together or not together, you rarely thought about me or what I wanted.”

  Rubbing his temples in frustration, he says, “I don’t want to go over this again.”

  “Good. Neither do I. We should get back to our client.”

  “I want you to come home with me tonight. Let’s finish this. Leave the past in the past and move forward together.”

  “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twic—”

  His lips press to mine. The shock stiffens my body and I push back. “How dare you kiss me!” I look around, panicked. “What if Vittori sees us?”

  “Then he’ll see how much I care for you. Come home with me, Reese.”

  I’m disgusted by not only the kiss, but also the assumption on his part that he could get away with it. “When hell freezes over.” I start to leave, but my wrist is grabbed.

  He leans in and whispers, “You should watch what you say to me, Ms. Carmichael.” To anyone else here, we look like an affectionate couple, but by the way he’s squeezing my wrist and by how he’s gritting his teeth, there’s no love exchanged. “You only have this job because I was generous enough to give it to you. If you lose me, you’ll lose everything, including that fancy apartment you’re so proud of.”

  How did I ever see him for anything other than the despicable human he is? I yank my wrist away, trying desperately to not make a scene, but I have to say something. “For someone who claims he wants me back, your threats speak louder than any of the bouquets you’ve sent me.”

  Vinnie’s eyes catch mine. I lower my gaze, ashamed for him to see anything that might reveal how vulnerable I really am. I swallow hard and raise my chin as I walk back to the table.

  Vinnie stands while I sit. “He’s an asshole.”

  “I agree,” I say under my breath when Keaton approaches with another drink in hand.