Smooth Operator

by Jennifer Lucia

  I pulled off my clothing piece by piece, letting out an audible sigh when I took off my bra, then threw on a camisole and some tiny shorts. I was ready to fall asleep watching television while sleeping in a pile of my MSG-laden shame. A knock came at the door, and I glanced down at my watch. Only ten minutes had passed since I'd ordered dinner. There was no way my food was ready yet. I padded to the door and swung it open, forgetting that I was wearing a sheer tank top with no bra.

  Tyler was standing there, wearing a cocky smile and wide eyes as he took in my appearance. I blushed furiously as he surveyed me, acutely aware that my nipples were pebbled and jutted out proudly. His eyes zeroed in on them, then flickered back to my face. I swallowed and crossed my arms over my chest, attempting to cover my nipples, which were so hard now they could cut diamonds.

  "Tyler," I said, breaking the heavy silence. "What are you doing here? Weren't you going home with Vanessa?"

  Tyler gave me an odd look. "Why would I be with Vanessa?"

  I shrugged nonchalantly. "You guys seemed close when we were leaving."

  "We used to work together. We were just catching up," Tyler said. He leaned against my still-open door frame, peering into the hotel room that I now desperately wished didn't have underwear strewn across it.

  "Was there something you needed?" I asked, fidgeting.

  "Yeah." Tyler sucked his lower lip between his teeth, a movement that happened so quickly that if I weren't watching closely, I'd have missed. My gaze lingered on those impossibly full lips. "I had some questions about Rafe. I want to get inside his head and understand him better so that I do a good job with him."

  "I think you're doing a great job with Rafe," I said.

  "Really?" Tyler looked skeptical. "Can I come in?"

  I paused for a moment, then nodded. I moved aside so Tyler's large frame could enter, then shut the door behind him. I pulled the robe hanging on the back of the door down and wrapped it around me.

  "So, what can I help you better understand?" I asked. Tyler looked disappointed at the addition of the robe, and I rolled my eyes while gesturing for him to sit on the bed. When his back was turned, I scooped up all the bras and panties that I could see and shoved them behind the dresser.

  "Well, I want to know why Rafe wanted to be a pirate," Tyler said.

  I knitted my eyebrows. "We've already been over this. Because the sea calls to him. It's his destiny, remember?"

  "Oh, yeah. I just wanted reiteration," Tyler said. "Also, he's a duke and a pirate, and in this universe that you've created, those are both sexy things for a man to be. Rafe could have had his pick of any woman. Why did he choose an impoverished employee of his that isn't very nice to him whom he has to abduct to make her love him? Isn't there an imbalance of power there?"

  "Because he loves her, and they are soul mates," I said. Duh.

  "So if I fall in love with someone who doesn't love me back, it's okay to kidnap her and force her to marry me because she'll fall in love with me eventually?" Tyler asked, making himself at home by reclining on his elbow. "Very modern of you."

  "Not in the real world, obviously. But it happens a lot in romance novels. The convention stems back to when romance novels started gaining steam in the seventies. Women weren't supposed to admit that they enjoyed sex, so the workaround for that was having the hero abduct the heroine. That way, the heroine still gets pleasure, but not in a way that makes her a whore," I explained.

  Tyler nodded slowly. "I get that. It doesn't explain why you wrote it in 2008. Kind of a blow to feminism, if you ask me."

  "I didn't ask you," I said, nudging him. "I wrote it as a tribute to those early books, though. I didn't realize how big it would get. Any other questions?"

  Tyler shook his head. "I have a confession to make."

  "Is it that you enjoy antagonizing me?" I asked.

  "No, that is fun. You get this adorable little wiggle in your nose when you're irritated. I doubt you even notice you're doing it. My confession is that I just wanted an excuse to hang out with you tonight, even if it was to ask you questions I already know the answers to." Tyler moved closer to me on the bed. I squirmed, not sure where this was going- or not believing it.

  "If you wanted to hang out, you could've just asked. No need for artifice," I said, watching as his hand made its way towards my thigh.

  "I already tried, remember?" Tyler said. "You're a hard woman to pin down." Another knock came at the door, and Tyler pulled his hand back to his side. "Were you expecting someone else?"

  "That's the Chinese food I ordered. Unless someone else is here to hang out under false pretenses," I quipped nervously.

  Tyler chuckled as I stood up, gripping my robe tightly to keep from giving the delivery guy a show he hadn't bargained for. I opened the door, and the delivery guy looked at me holding my robe closed and Tyler lounging on the bed with a lazy grin.

  "It isn't what you think," I said quickly.

  "I don't care, lady," he said. "That'll be thirty-nine dollars."

  "Thirty-nine dollars?" I asked in disbelief.

  "Plus tip." The delivery guy said, flashing me a toothy grin as I grudgingly shoved all the cash into his hand and took my food.

  "I'd better get used to sticker shock while I'm here, I guess," I said, shutting the door and heading back to Tyler. "Would you like some Chinese food?"

  "I would love that," he said, moving over and making room on the bed for me. He didn't attempt to touch me again, to my relief and disappointment. "Were you planning on eating all of this yourself?"

  "No," I lied. I handed him a pair of chopsticks, and we dug in while watching trashy television.

  We ate in comfortable silence until all the food was gone, and there was no more reason for Tyler to be there. "Well, it's getting late," I said awkwardly.

  "Yeah, it is," Tyler said slowly.

  "I should probably get some sleep." I wiggled a bit, and Tyler's eyes didn't miss the movement.

  Tyler didn't budge. "We do have an early day tomorrow." His eyes lingered on my lips, daring me to make the first move.

  Player. The word popped into my mind, breaking the spell Tyler had over me. "Okay," I said, standing up. "I'll see you in the morning." I stood in the hallway and gestured towards the door.

  Tyler's mouth set in a firm line, clearly disappointed, but he stood up, brushing the crumbs off the bed for me. He stopped in front of me in the open doorway and leaned over me, playing with the sides of my robe. I looked up into his face, my resolve to sleep alone tonight slowly slipping away. "I had a nice time tonight," he whispered.

  "Me too. Thanks for saving me from myself and sharing the bulk of my food."

  Tyler grinned. "Anytime." He paused, considering, then started walking away. He shook his head, turned back around and grabbed me by the back of my neck.

  "Tyler, what-"

  Tyler kissed me. Softly at first, his lips tangy from the food we'd just devoured, then harder. He deepened the kiss, keeping hold of the back of my neck possessively. He drew back from the kiss against my light protest, eyes crinkled at the edges. "I didn't want to leave before doing that," he whispered.

  Tyler placed one more soft kiss on my lips before stepping back and walking out the door. I leaned against the door frame in a daze, staring at Tyler's retreating back. Just before he got in the elevator, he looked back at me, catching me staring. I waved awkwardly, then shut my door and leaned against it.

  I was in trouble now.

  Chapter Eight

  I laid in bed under the covers on the last Friday of rehearsals, staring at the ceiling and holding my phone up to my ear while I waited for Kat to answer. It was one-thirty on the East Coast, but Kat, night owl that she was, would still be awake.

  "Hello, movie star," came her singsong greeting.

  I laughed. "Hardly. How's it going back home?"

  "Eh," Kat said, her demeanor changing.

  "What?"

  "I have to tell you something, but I don't want you to freak
." Kat's tone of voice was worrying me.

  "Is everything all right?" I asked. "Are you okay?"

  "Don't worry. Everything is fine with me. It's just- argh. How do I say this?"

  "Figure it out. The anticipation is killing me," I joked.

  "Dave and Fiona are having a baby," Kat said quickly.

  I laid still, my smile frozen in place. I was stunned. Dave had always proudly proclaimed his desire to be child-free. He had to be freaking out right now. There was no way they'd done this on purpose. "Wow. What are they going to do?"

  "No, Liv. They planned for this. They've apparently been trying since they got engaged," Kat said.

  "Wow," I said again. I laughed hollowly. "That's great then. Give the happy couple my regards."

  "Are you okay?" Kat asked softly. "You're doing that crazed high-pitched voice thing you do. It's okay to be angry. I know how much you wanted to have kids with Dave."

  "You don't have to treat me like a glass doll that is going to shatter at any moment. I'm fine. So what if Dave told me for seven years that he wasn't the fathering or the marrying type, but then as soon as Supermodel Fiona comes around, he's ring shopping and throwing out the condoms?" I said.

  Kat tsked. Truthfully, I was more surprised than hurt- surprised to find that this news didn't send me into a downward spiral like Kat had obviously expected it to. "Let's talk about something else. This is bumming me out. How is your current job going?"

  Kat was a private chef who catered to the wealthy elite in our affluent county in Maryland. Her current job was at the house of a state senator in Potomac. She hesitated, and knowing her, was getting ready to rehash the Dave and Fiona thing endlessly. Thankfully, she seemed to think better of it and accepted that I wanted to change the course of the conversation. "Actually, pretty awful." She groaned. "I'm going to have to quit soon. Everyone is so snobbish. It's insane."

  "You don't like working in giant, fancy kitchens for giant, fancy paychecks?" I teased.

  "That's the only perk of the job," Kat sighed. "Well, that and all the free food."

  "Now you're speaking my language."

  "I know you so well. Enough about my boring job, what about you? How have rehearsals been?"

  "Great. Vanessa is an amazing addition to the cast, and Tyler is awesome, of course." I kept it purposely vague so that Kat couldn't read any more into that than there was.

  "Oh, Tyler is awesome, is he?" she said, reading more into it than there was. "Have you guys been hanging out much?"

  Not since the night he came to my hotel room and set me on fire, then kissed me. We hadn't had time to, what with our absurd work hours. "Nope. It's probably for the best though. That guy has player written all over him."

  "I thought you said he's a nice guy," Kat said.

  "Yeah, he is," I said guiltily. I didn’t like the idea of painting Tyler in a bad light, but I also didn't want Kat to think there was a possibility of anything happening between Tyler and me. "But still, a player."

  "You can't just hang out and be friends with someone nice if he's a bit of a whore? It seems to me like someone is denying herself something on purpose," Kat said. "You can't fool me, lady. You like him."

  "No matter. All of this insanity will be over in a couple of months, and we'll never see each other again anyway," I said, feeling inexplicably sad at the prospect.

  "True," Kat said. Why did her agreement annoy me so much? "Any plans for this weekend?"

  "I'll probably stay in. Doug is throwing a party tomorrow night to celebrate the end of rehearsals. It's going to be pretty big- open bar, a DJ, the works. I don't want to go and deal with all of that though," I said.

  "Why not?" Kat couldn't comprehend that anyone would consider not going to a Hollywood party.

  An image of Vanessa all over Tyler popped into my brain. "It seems like it's just going to be a lot of drinking and schmoozing with studio executives. It's not really my bag," I replied, only lying a little bit about my true reason for not going. "I don't know. Maybe I'll pop in to make an appearance. The party is being held in the conference room of our hotel, so it's not like I can't just go for a few minutes then leave."

  "You should go. You need to soak up this experience you've gotten that I am insanely jealous of. It's not every day a girl gets a chance to drink and schmooze with studio executives," Kat chided.

  "I know. I've just been so tired. You know how crazy long our workdays are," I whined.

  "Oh, please. I'm a chef. Twelve hour days are light workdays for me. Drink an energy drink and go to that party. Do it for me. Make sure you take lots of pictures and post them to your social media accounts so that everyone back home can look at your fabulous life and be jealous." What Kat meant was post pictures so that Dave and Fiona get jealous.

  "Okay, okay," I said. "I can't promise I'll have a good time, though."

  "That's okay. All that matters is making it look like you had a good time," Kat said.

  "Is that what the cool kids are doing these days?" I asked.

  "I wouldn't have any clue, I've never been a cool kid," Kat replied. "You were there for my childhood, remember?"

  "You're ridiculous, and I love you," I said fondly. "I'm hanging up now."

  "Okay, I'd better get to sleep. I have to be at the senator's at five in the morning on a Saturday." Kat mimicked gagging, then hung up.

  I laid awake on my bed for a long time, thinking about Dave and Fiona and their new baby. It wasn't the actual act of them having a baby that hurt because I was so incredibly glad that Dave and I had never taken that step. It was that Dave hadn't thought I'd been good enough to have a baby with, or get married to, or even stay faithful to. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. It wasn't like I was in love with Dave anymore, or that I wanted to steal him back from Fiona and wreck their relationship. I just wasn't a big enough person to wish them well in their relationship.

  ∞∞∞

  The next morning, I decided to take everyone's advice and go see more of Los Angeles. The only problem was I didn't know where to start. There were so many things to do here that it was almost overwhelming.

  I typed Los Angeles tourist attractions into my web browser and considered my options. I glossed over all the normal stuff that I'd covered in my first weekend here, searching for something more unique. I was just scrolling past the LACMA again when something caught my eye- The Museum of Death. Interesting. Intrigued, I clicked on their website. "Located on Hollywood Boulevard, the Museum of Death exists to make people happy to be alive." This place was right up my alley. Just like that, I had plans for the day.

  I got dressed quickly and headed to the coffee shop in the lobby for a quick cup of joe. I hadn't slept much the night before, and I needed a pick-me-up for my walk to the museum. It was a little over two miles, but I was so tired of driving everywhere that I had decided I would walk and take in the sights on the way to the museum. I placed an order for the largest regular coffee they had, then popped my earphones in while I waited for my drink to be ready.

  I was lost in my own world, really jamming out, when someone tapped me on my shoulder, making me jump about a mile. I ripped the earbuds out of my ears and turned around to face a smiling Tyler.

  "Getting your fix of venti orange mocha chai vanilla latte cappuccino?" he asked.

  I laughed. "Nope. Drip coffee. The other stuff is delicious, but I need pure caffeine today. I'm going exploring."

  "About time," he said. "What's on the agenda for today?" He grabbed me by the elbow, pulling me out of the way of a woman carrying eight cups of coffee stacked on each other. The contact was nice, and I leaned into him, glad for the excuse the lady and her balancing act had created.

  "What was that again?" I asked, looking up into his face. Tyler had about a half a foot on me, and as a result, whenever we got close like this, I had to tilt my head all the way back to see him.

  "Where are you going?" His green eyes were warm, with flecks of gold in them. It was hard to stay focused on
a conversation when he was this close to me, knowing what he tasted like when his lips slid over mine.

  "OLIVER!" The barista slid my drink onto the counter, and I snapped out of it, stepping away from Tyler and his hypnotic eyes.

  "Thanks," I said, picking the coffee up with a frown. I turned back to Tyler as we walked to the milk and sugar bar. "I'm going to the Museum of Death. Have you heard of it?"

  He looked surprised. "I've heard of it, but I've never been. Do you want company?"

  I had no good reason to say no, and every part of me wanted to spend the day with Tyler, to be in his proximity. "Yeah, sure." I put the lid back on my coffee after pouring a liberal amount of sugar into it and looked curiously at Tyler's empty hands. "Are you still waiting for your coffee to come up?"

  "I already had one today. I'm only here because I saw you through the window and I thought I'd catch you while you were still at the hotel. It looks like I made the right call." Tyler grinned winningly.

  "Are you stalking me, Tyler Sutton?" I asked, eyes narrowed.

  "Moi?" he asked, eyes wide. "No, never." He lifted his hands and shrugged in mock innocence.

  "It wouldn't be the worst thing if you were," I said.

  "In that case, I fully admit to stalking you," Tyler said readily, making me laugh. He held the door open for me as we left the coffee shop, and got held up holding the door for three older women who were right behind us. I smiled as I watched him charm the pants off them, pinching myself at how insane my luck was that I was spending the day with this man.

  Once we were both in the hotel lobby, Tyler pulled a worn baseball cap from the back pocket of his jeans and some aviator sunglasses from his shirt pocket. He tugged the hat onto his head and pulled the sunglasses on, committing fully to incognito mode. "This looks obnoxious, I know, but it's necessary when I go out in public in this city. Too many people would recognize me otherwise," Tyler apologized.