Hard Work

by Micah Persell

Surely that was all that was going on here. Like a dog who had been whipped for years finding kindness for the first time. That was it. He didn’t—he swallowed—love Victoria.

  That was impossible. He wasn’t that stupid.

  But the way that the light bounced off her loosened hair and reflected in her enormous, brown eyes . . . maybe he wanted to be that stupid.

  Fuck, she was so beautiful he hurt from it. Suddenly, he didn’t have to fight his hands to keep them gentle. He wanted to touch her softly. Reverently. He brushed his thumbs across her collarbone, and she relaxed into the simple touch, smiling with a gentle curve of her lips. Technically, he could call it a night right now. He’d pleasured her; she was satisfied. He could shake her hand and walk away. Their agreement would be over.

  No. Need more time.

  He swallowed. “Will you show me your ideas?”

  Her gentle smile took on a bit more brilliance. “Of course. But . . . ”

  Kip braced himself.

  “I think we should go get something to eat while we do it,” she finished.

  He was so relieved that she hadn’t blown him off that it took a moment for him to understand what she’d said. “Go out?”

  She laughed. “Yeah. Like a restaurant?”

  He felt his brow furrow. “With me?”

  Her smile fell, and a flash of sadness passed through her vivid eyes. “With you. We’re friends, right? Friends eat out together.”

  “But what if—”

  “Friends eat out together,” she said more firmly this time. “And if we don’t leave this room soon, I can guarantee we won’t get any work done.”

  Huh. Sure enough, he was lazily thrusting his erection against her soft belly. With a surprised laugh, he stilled his hips. “Point taken.”

  “Grab my laptop bag.” She bent down and pushed her leg back through her panties and trousers. “And do you see the thumb drive anywhere? I dropped it.”

  He spotted it on the lush carpet almost right away. He stooped to scoop it up and then held it to the light, trying to decipher what was written on the label. Hopes and Dreams.

  “You’re going to show me what’s on this?”

  She plucked it from his hand. “Well, not everything.” She winked. “Just the good stuff.”

  Her hopes and dreams meeting his hopes and dreams. Why did the thought of that not send him running from the room? Why did it make him want to hold her? Kiss her hair?

  I love you.

  He pressed his lips together to capture some sort of noise. Victoria was finger combing her hair—which he’d managed to mess up spectacularly, he was proud to say—and trying to subdue it into a ponytail.

  He’d never seen her wear a ponytail before. She pulled it high, wisps of hair falling down and framing her face. He swallowed hard.

  Fuck, she was beautiful.

  “Ready to go?” she asked.

  “Where?”

  She laughed. “To eat, Kip.”

  Oh, yeah. He quickly located her laptop bag on the chair to his right and snatched it for her. “Sure.” Please don’t regret this.

  Nothing bad was going to happen. Right? A simple meal with a woman he was having very unprofessional feelings for who thought he could do stuff. Real, meaningful stuff.

  “Lead the way, honey.”

  As they walked toward the elevators, he ached to hold her hand like they were fifteen. Luckily, when they got on the elevator, someone was already on it, so he couldn’t make a bigger ass out of himself by kissing the curve of her neck all the way to the lobby.

  Damn, he had it bad.

  Get it together!

  They walked off the elevator together, and Kip, figuring they would simply eat in the hotel restaurant, stared at it in confusion as Victoria walked past it and continued through the revolving glass doors to the curb. He had to hoof it to catch up.

  “Where are we going?”

  She grinned up at him. “There’s a great falafel place just down the block.”

  His brows shot up. He knew immediately which place she was talking about, and calling it a restaurant was optimistic. So was hole in the wall. “You do realize you’re a big girl and can eat big girl food, right?”

  She wrinkled her nose, and his heart stuttered. “Falafels are big girl food. Snob.”

  Well. That was a first. “Snob?”

  “You heard me. Talking bad about my taste,” she muttered. “I’m with you, I might add.”

  That desire to hold her hand became nigh impossible to bank. “Well, your taste there is faultless.”

  She stopped in front of the “restaurant.” “I think so, too.”

  God. If his heart kept panging like this, he was going to have to see a doctor. It couldn’t be normal. He tugged open the door, and she slipped past him into the dingy, greasy interior. Spices filled the air, and, despite everything, his stomach growled.

  She turned twinkling eyes his way. “Heard that.”

  He smirked. “I’ve already eaten, thank you.”

  How she still managed to blush each time he teased her, he’d never know, but he was more than addicted to the pink tinge that covered her cheeks, throat, and—he knew—breasts. He flicked a glance at her chest and forced his gaze back up.

  The woman had some fantastic breasts. He couldn’t wait to become reacquainted with them.

  She marched straight up to the counter, and the employee behind it smiled with recognition.

  Victoria Hastings, patron saint of dives. His cheeks stung as he fought back a smile.

  She looked at him over her shoulder, and even that drove lust straight to his groin. The curve of her neck, the tender skin under her jaw—she was speaking.

  He’d heard nothing. “What was that?”

  She gave him the look that deserved. “Want me to order for you?”

  Considering he had no idea what a falafel even was? “Yep.”

  Victoria leaned over the counter and began ordering, but, again, Kip heard nothing, because the position she was in forced that gorgeous ass out, straining the seat of her pants. He knew her lacy lingerie was so thin it wouldn’t leave a panty line, but that didn’t keep him from tracing with his gaze the rise of her ass where he knew the lace cut over silky skin.

  She spun suddenly and caught him ogling her—again.

  He could safely say he’d never had this problem with another client. Hell, with another woman, period and full stop.

  She walked his way, and the sway of her hips, the way she licked lips that were still swollen from his kiss—even that made the front of his pants tight. She stepped into his personal space, rose to her tiptoes, and whispered in his ear, “We’ll get no work done if you keep that up.”

  And then, she bit his ear, and he made the most horrifying, desperate noise that echoed loudly in the empty restaurant.

  She giggled as she fell back on her heels. “I cannot wait to get you alone again.”

  He reached for her hand. “Don’t fight the feeling.” He was more than ready to tug her out of the restaurant and race back to their room.

  She tugged back. “This is important.” He looked at her, and her soft brown eyes sucked him in. “You’re important.”

  “Fuck.”

  She raised her eyebrows. He cleared his throat and nodded toward a booth in the corner. “That work for you?”

  She narrowed her eyes, and for a moment, he worried she wasn’t going to let him get away without an explanation. Finally, she nodded and started walking toward the table herself.

  Phew.

  She scooted across the cracked, plastic seat and patted the space right next to her.

  “Gladly.” He took it, pressing his hip against hers under the guise of leaning over to get her laptop out of its bag. He handed it to her silently and watched as she fired it up and plugged in the Hopes and Dreams thumb drive the way a dealer over on the Strip dealt blackjack.

  Something about the thumb drive stuck in his chest; he couldn’t pinpoint why.

&
nbsp; When a window automatically popped up on her screen, he couldn’t help reading the file names over her shoulder as she scrolled through them. Hopefully, he wasn’t far overstepping his bounds. “Ricchezza?” He pointed at the screen. It was the file name at the top, and, unlike all the other file names, was all caps. “If your hopes and dreams are The Ricchezza, honey, I’ll take you right now.”

  His heart thawed of all tension when she laughed instead of swatting him and telling him to mind his own business. “No, not going there. It’s—” She stopped and looked at him. He could see her throat work around a harsh swallow. “Do you . . . want to see?”

  Even an idiot would be able to tell that what she’d just offered to do was not normal for her. Tread lightly. “Very much.”

  She double-clicked on the file, and a new window bloomed. She began chattering immediately, jabbing her finger against the laptop screen as she pointed out item after item in what was an absolutely brilliant marketing campaign for the famous casino.

  Kip had majored in marketing—it was the only way his parents would pay for college—and he had his mother’s natural knack for it. Had grown up cutting his teeth on it.

  Victoria’s plan was unlike any he’d ever seen. A mix of relying on The Ricchezza’s already sterling ethos while taking the casino in new directions. It was going to put her on the map in the marketing industry.

  The whole reason he was a gigolo was because his parents had cut him off when he refused to go into advertising like his mother expected of him. But the very thought of being like his mother turned Kip’s stomach. If he’d known advertising could be like this? He’d have jumped into the profession with both feet.

  As her excited explanations began to taper off, her anxious stare burned his profile. He flicked a quick glance her way; she was chewing on her bottom lip.

  He turned bodily toward her. “Victoria.” He ducked his head to make sure their gazes were locked and level. “This is incredible.”

  She blushed again, but for the first time since they’d met, it was for a reason other than sex.

  “They’re going to snap this up like crazy.” He snapped his fingers for effect. “So, what’s next?”

  She tilted her head. “Next?”

  “Yeah. After they hire you. What else is on the thumb drive? Dream house? Dream vacation?”

  She puckered her lips as though the words he’d uttered had no meaning in the English language.

  And, suddenly, the reason he’d been wary about her Hopes and Dreams thumb drive surfaced. She has no hopes and dreams.

  This—a marketing plan—would not satisfy the woman he was getting to know. Victoria not only deserved the world, but she also wanted it. It was obvious in everything she did.

  It was, apparently, not obvious to her.

  He saw the exact moment she realized she didn’t have a life blueprint beyond winning The Ricchezza. Her jaw clenched, then something resembling panic flashed through her eyes.

  Instinctually, he reached for her hand. Stroked his thumb across her delicate knuckles. “Victoria—”

  “Ready to see some business ideas?” she blurted. She jerked her hand from his and began clicking on files.

  “Um.” His empty hand hovered awkwardly between them, and he quickly placed it on the tabletop. “Yeah, sure.”

  When she started blinking rapidly at the screen and her mouse hand shook a few times, Kip thought his heart was going to fight its way up and out of his throat to get to her. He gently laid his hand over hers, quelling the shaking the only way he knew how. He gathered all his courage. “You help me figure out mine, I help you figure out yours?”

  The words were too quiet, too timid; what if she hadn’t been able to hear them and he’d have to find the courage to say them again? Her hand was so warm, so slight beneath his. A fierce protectiveness he’d never felt before surged through him.

  After an interminable silence, she slowly turned her head toward his. Her eyes seemed impossibly bigger and sparkled like gems with—he realized with a gut wrench—unshed tears. She stared at him for several seconds. Finally, “Okay.”

  His chest puffed so big, one would have thought she’d just handed him an Olympic medal for best move in an awkward situation. “Okay,” he repeated softly.

  There was a loud clack, and both Kip and Victoria jumped. His gaze swiveled around to find an equally startled restaurant employee staring at them. “Um,” she said, “your order is ready.”

  Sure enough, there was a tray loaded with food. The source of the clack apparently. “Thank you.” When he looked back up, the employee was glancing back and forth between Kip and Victoria, her brown eyes lighting up and a smile beginning to dawn. Great. So, he looked as besotted as he felt. Just great.

  “Enjoy,” she said in a lascivious tone before turning and walking back to the counter.

  After an interminable, awkward moment when they just sat silently next to each other staring at their food, she reached forward and snagged a falafel. Kip automatically followed suit, but when the spicy, flavorful bite he took registered with his brain, his eyes widened. “This is good!”

  She laughed around a bite of food, and, just like that, all the awkwardness vanished. “I told you.”

  He narrowed his eyes and looked at her sideways. “Now I’m actually going to have to eat something from Sally’s, aren’t I?”

  She raised her brows. “You mean, you haven’t yet?”

  “No! What am I, crazy?”

  “Yes.” She grinned at him.

  He grinned back, and the urge to touch her nearly strangled him in its intensity. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

  She tilted her head into the simple touch and leaned forward, almost as though she wanted him to kiss her.

  And, God, he wanted that, too.

  Her eyes were wide when he met her in the middle, and they paused, their lips just a breath apart. His fingertips still on her cheek, he brushed down that soft skin until he could slip a finger under her chin and tilt it up. Then he brushed his lips over hers.

  It was a simple, chaste kiss. The most innocent he’d ever given. It rocked him with lust. He forced himself to back up, to lower his hand, because if he didn’t, he was going to push her into the back of the booth and press his body into hers, their meal entirely forgotten.

  She stared up at him with foggy eyes, and he was struck anew by both her beauty and the urge to smile. Not bad for a simple kiss. He had to distract them both. “How about those business ideas, hmm?”

  She blinked once. Twice. “Oh, yes.” She looked down at the keyboard, and after a moment, straightened. “Right, business ideas.”

  This time, there was no stopping his grin. Victoria clicked on some files, took a bite of her falafel, and then launched into business, slipping seamlessly from one type of woman to another in the span of a hot second.

  A very hot second.

  As Kip scooted in close—for the sole purpose of seeing the screen clearly, of course—he became even more undeniably aroused by the brain this woman possessed. These ideas for his future business were stunning in both their intelligence and possibility of success. Personal concierge, social media coordinator, graphic design, event planner.

  His own brain started firing, and suddenly, his fuzzy future looked a lot clearer. Not only didn’t he hate any of these potentials, but he could also see himself loving any one of them. Could see the life he’d always dreamed of coming into focus.

  Things really started clicking, though, when he fired out advertising ideas of his own for some of these businesses. Cross promotions he could work out with limo services in the area. An interactive website. He was shocked when, more than once, she said, “Oh, that’s good!” And then her fingers would fly across the keyboard, and there his idea was, nestled in among hers.

  She wouldn’t do that just to humor him, would she? She had to think his advertising ideas were really good. Right?

  Oh, God. He was shocked by how much
that meant to him. By how much this work fulfilled him.

  Maybe I made a mistake rejecting advertising?

  He shoved the thought away, not ready for it to ruin what was turning out to be one of his favorite evenings ever.

  They finished their meal but continued to sit companionably hip to hip and go through everything Victoria could put in front of him, bandying advertising ideas back and forth. Kip hadn’t been aware of the passing time until lights began flicking off in the kitchen behind stainless steel swinging doors.

  He glanced at the clock in the bottom right corner of the laptop; it was nearly eleven.

  “Is it really that late?” Victoria asked.

  “Yeah, I think so.” Fuck. The night was almost over. He stretched, and the muscles in his shoulders and neck twinged, making him wince. If he hurt there from bending over the laptop . . .

  He reached out and kneaded the base of her neck, and her head dropped forward. She moaned, and Kip swallowed hard. “Need a backrub?” Please say yes. Please say yes.

  “God, yes.”

  Yes! Kip nodded toward the laptop. “Save your thoughts, honey.”

  Victoria clicked the mouse several times and then closed the laptop. Taking that as his cue, he gathered her computer and slipped it into the bag she always carried. Then, he scooted from the booth and held out a hand to her.

  Almost shyly, she placed her fingers in his. As they began walking toward the door of the restaurant, the same woman who had delivered their food hours ago hustled their way, a key ring jostling in her hand. With a sly smile, she unlocked the door for them—they’d been so engrossed in each other they’d missed her locking it, apparently—and then held the door open as they entered the night. “Have a good evening, you two,” she called.

  Oh, I plan on it. Kip drew her to his side amid the clatter of the door being locked once more behind them. He dropped her hand and wrapped his arm around her shoulders instead. She fit perfectly in the notch of his side, and as they walked toward the hotel, the lights from the Strip several miles away cast the sky in an eerie and magical glow.

  “I love those lights,” she sighed.

  I love you. Kip sighed, resigned. He was going to have to swallow those words at a continual pace tonight, it seemed, until he came to his senses.