by Cynthia Dane
“Is there a problem here?”
The clerk looked up as Olivia turned around. What are you doing here? It was Rick, leaning against the counter as he watched these unfortunate events unfold. “Mr. Rodriguez!” The clerk stood to attention. “No problem, just…”
“Just that your incompetent dance partner here forgot her keycard somewhere.” Olivia took a step back. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll hang out in the lobby until Fiona gets back.” Whenever that would be. With Olivia’s life that day, Fiona probably forgot her key too.
“Now, now…” Rick leaned against the counter, flashing that smile at the clerk, who promptly paled under the strength of another man’s charms. “I can vouch for Olivia here. She’s part of my touring staff. Quite the star, really. One of these days she’s going to be big. You’ll be remiss to think that you once denied her entrance to her own hotel room. Right?”
The clerk looked between Rick and Olivia. He had begun to sweat, probably because of what a big star Rick was, but Olivia also wondered if it had anything to do with the situation at hand. “Of course we will get her a new card. Wait here, please.”
Olivia and Rick stood in silence at the counter while the clerk went off to do as he was bid. After another minute of uncomfortable quiet went by, Olivia finally thanked Rick for intervening. “I’m such an idiot. I have no idea what I did with that card.”
He put a firm hand on her shoulder. “You’re tired. We’ve finished the first leg of the tour. Heaven knows I’ve made blunders these past few days. Nobody cares when I do them.”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “Must be nice.”
The clerk returned with a new keycard in his hand. He passed it over the counter to Olivia, who promptly secured it in her front pocket. “Will there be anything else, Mr. Rodriguez?”
“No thank you.” Rick took his hand off Olivia’s shoulder. “But thank you for taking care of Ms. Owens’s predicament. You can bill my room for any charges that have been accumulated.”
Turning to him, Olivia said, “You don’t have to do that. It’s my fault, so I should have to pay.” When Rick did not change his demeanor, she realized that she was not winning this argument. Whatever the charges are, they don’t mean anything to him, do they? All it would have taken was one ticket sell that night to cover the charges.
Rick put his hand on the small of her back and nodded to the clerk. “Thanks. I’ll take it from here.”
Olivia let him escort her to the elevator, tail still tucked between her legs. After he pushed the button, however, she felt compelled to say, “You really didn’t have to do that. Now that clerk is going to think I owe you something.”
“The clerk thinks it?” The elevator dinged and opened. Thankfully, it was empty, allowing the two of them to have some privacy as they rode. “So you don’t think you owe me something?”
Cheeky. Olivia wished that she were in such a silly mood right now. “I might owe you the fifty bucks it’s going to cost, but that’s not what he’s going to think at all.”
“And why’s that?”
Olivia leaned against the railing as the elevator surged upward. “Because you’re famous. Because you’re practically a rock star. Because you’re a man.”
“Deep. And maybe you and I are just friends?”
She could only give him a surreptitious look. “Work colleagues, is more like it.”
Antsy Rick continued to shift between his feet, teeth biting his bottom lip as his large hands tapped against the railing. “So we’re not even going to mention it, huh? That whole thing that happened a couple of months ago.”
Olivia bristled. “What is there to bring up? It happened. I’m not saying it never happened. There’s just no reason to talk about it.”
“Oh, come on.” Rick kept a respective distance, but Olivia noticed the exasperated way he looked at her. “I get wanting to be professional after it happened. Better than losing our shit over hormones when we’re going to be working together in a stressful situation for months. Except the other extreme is stupid too. You’re right, that guy probably thinks we’re banging. I’m a rich celebrity guy, like you said, and you’re a pretty, athletic woman whom I’m friendly with. Obviously, we’re banging. And you can’t even totally deny it, because we did do it. Or should I not mention that?”
Olivia couldn’t tell if he was frustrated or egging her on. “It bothers me, okay? I’m not ashamed of it, but I don’t want it getting in the way of my career. I’m not established like you.”
“So after we make you one of the hottest dancers in the industry… we can talk about it?”
“What is there to talk about, Rick?”
Now she was the frustrated one. Olivia clamped her hand on the railing and put her other hand on her hip, elbow effectively keeping him on the other side of the elevator. He, however, snorted and relaxed his posture. “It was a good time, for one thing.”
Breath shot out in disbelief from Olivia’s mouth. “Fantastic. You’re the type of guy who wants to talk about his conquests.”
“Conquests? Please give me a bit more respect. I don’t think of you as a conquest.”
Why hadn’t they reached her floor? “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant… oh, never mind.”
Right before they finally reached her floor, Rick stepped forward and paused the elevator’s ascent. What the hell! Olivia wasn’t afraid he might do something, but she was not in the mood for more of this discussion.
“Come hang out in my suite with me.” What was with that sloppy posture and mischievous look in his dark eyes? “As work colleagues.”
“Why would I hang out with you as a work colleague?”
“Fine. Friends. Can we at least promote whatever this is to friendship?”
Olivia pressed her hand against her forehead. “You’ve got me all wrong. I like you fine. You’re a decent guy and better dance partner. I don’t even mind talking to you.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“I’m hesitant to call you a friend for many reasons. Least of all the sex we had.”
“Why, then?”
“Because you’re a famous rock star and I’m a girl who works for your company? If we’re seen hanging out together, people will talk. For good reason, apparently. Since I guess I’m so pretty.” She couldn’t help but grin.
“Do you want to come up? Look, I’ll buy you whatever room service you want. You want chocolate cake? We’ll get a cake. Shrimp? I’m sure they have it. We’re a hop away from the Gulf Coast.”
Boy, he was persistent. “Why do you want to hang out with me? Aren’t there other girls you could be spending your time with? Hey, don’t you have any friends?”
“Sure I have friends! Except do you think I’m gonna hang out with José in my free time? Don’t know if you noticed, but most of the people on this trip with us are, uh, work colleagues.”
“Like me.”
“I like you in other ways. Like… we could be friends. Totally crazy concept, isn’t it?”
Olivia stepped in front of him and resumed the elevator. She undid the request for her floor and rode the rest of the way up to Rick’s suite. If nothing else, she would get to say she checked out a sweet suite in one of Miami’s nicest hotels. It has to be better than the standard room Fiona and I are in. “I’ll stay for an hour or so. Order me spaghetti. I need carbs.”
“Carbs it is. I love carbs.”
Must be nice to be a man then. If Olivia didn’t watch it, she would bloat like a stuffed bag after eating too many processed grains. In her line of work, she had to be careful about every bite. Not that it stopped her most of the time…
Rick’s suite was one of the only ones on his floor. Olivia didn’t doubt that the others were for not only the rich, but the famous as well. How many superstars walked these halls? How many political dignitaries? Business tycoons? Hell, how many plebeians like her could ever say they walked these hallowed hotel halls? I’m a groupie. Shoot. She tried not to laugh as Rick opened his door and let her st
ep in ahead of him.
The suite wasn’t as impressive as she expected. Sure, it was big, but it was hardly gaudy. There was a big screen TV, a large bed, and lots of plush seating, but for the most part Olivia could only gauge that the expensive pieces were the minimalistic art hanging on the walls and adorning flat surfaces. I wonder if this is his sort of personality. If one looked at Rick Rodriguez, they would not guess he was rich or famous. Well, maybe rich if they knew his jeans were designer. For the most part he was a casual guy who talked easily to others. Down to Earth. No wonder so many women loved him. He was the perfect guy in their eyes. Handsome, funny, rich, and able to make their dreams come true. Few can say they screwed him, at least. Olivia belonged to some special club somewhere. She wondered how long it would take for her to get her membership card in the mail. If I screw him some more, do I get a gold card? Is it a punch system? Screw ten times, get the eleventh one free? Wait…
Rick picked up the telephone by the bed and dialed zero. “Hello?” Oh goodness, he was actually doing it. “Yup. I need the most chocolately thing you have. Brownie? Awesome. Send it up with some spaghetti. Two plates, please.”
“You want me to get fat,” Olivia said, collapsing in one of the soft chairs. She left her legs spread open as her spine slipped down the back of the chair. “Fine. Keep in mind you’re the one lifting and spinning me during the shows. Your funeral. Or hernia, whichever comes first.
“I’m sure you’ll be fine.” Rick joined her in an adjacent chair, a beer in his hands. Not any regular beer, however. The high-end stuff that was only released in limited quantities. At least he had good taste in beer. “One night of carbs and chocolate won’t wreck you.”
“Spoken like a true man.”
“Okay, I won’t pretend to know what it’s like to gain five pounds from looking at a meal.” Rick rolled his eyes all the same. “I’m willing to take the risk. Want something to drink?”
“Water’s fine.”
“That’s boring.” Rick got up and perused the selection of alcohol. “At least have Pepsi.”
“Look, we’re already pushing it with the food. Just give me water.”
“Next you’ll want to do some sit-ups before we eat.” Nevertheless, Rick got her a glass of ice water. The food arrived about fifteen minutes later.
It wasn’t so bad, hanging out with him. Olivia wasn’t sure how much they really had in common, yet sitting at a table, chatting and eating sloppy food like spaghetti was humor in and of itself. Rick ate like a total dude, shoveling food in his mouth with his hand clamped around the fork handle instead of holding it like a damned human being. At first Olivia was appalled, but then she remembered all the men in her family who ate as if they were about to go back out to the farm and tame them some wild horses.
Why do guys do that? Did they not care? Did nobody teach them how to eat right? It wasn’t attractive, and it made a mess. Yet it somehow did not detract from the handsome face that was Rick Rodriguez. Olivia caught herself sleepily staring at his stubble, the stark angles of his face, and those soft brown eyes that looked like they were ready to start trouble. When Rick asked her what she was looking at, Olivia could only pretend that she was spacing off.
After dinner they stacked up the dirty dishes on the cart they came in on and lounged in front of a large screen TV hanging above the inactive fireplace. It was too late in the year for any interesting shows to be on, so Rick left it on a movie.
“You know everyone went out to party tonight, right?” Olivia said during a commercial.
“Who?”
“Fiona and the others. They went out clubbing.”
“Of course she did. Fiona loves clubbing.”
“You know this?”
Rick flinched as if he caught himself saying something he shouldn’t. “That’s what I hear.”
“Hmmm.” Olivia leaned in, her eyes comically searching Rick’s face for a hint of bad behavior. “How close are you to Fiona, Rick Rodriguez?”
“Not close at all.” He answered that way too fast. “I mean… we’ve hung out a few times. I don’t know many details about her, though.”
Rick kept looking ahead, as if glancing at Olivia would make him come undone in his lie. “You’ve totally banged her.”
“Now, now…”
“I see how it is.” Olivia crossed one leg over the other. “You like playing with your dancers. No wonder you go to their auditions. Gotta make sure we’re your type.”
She made sure to smile when Rick finally turned his head toward her… but she didn’t smile for long. Not when Rick made such a dour face, his need to defend himself surely rising. “It’s not like that,” he said with such certainty.
“Isn’t it?”
“No. Why? You only go to the auditions for artists you wanna sleep with?”
Olivia shrugged. “Maybe. I’m not picky.”
“Neither am I. Unless I’m scouting out actual talent.”
“Do I have talent?”
The suite was silent aside from an antique clock ticking behind them. “You wouldn’t be my dance partner if you didn’t have any talent.”
He said it so sincerely that Olivia was almost caught off guard. There’s a compliment I don’t get every day. “Uh, thanks.”
“No problem.” There was that cheesy grin again, in case Olivia was getting too comfortable with the compliments. “Sorry if I ever made you feel uncomfortable.”
Now what was that for? Was Olivia coming off as uncomfortable? Apparently. “I don’t feel uncomfortable. Well, maybe now I do. What do I know? I’m confused.”
There was an awkward silence for the century. The clock kept ticking, and Olivia shifted slightly farther away from Rick on the couch. What’s bothering me so much? Was it the implication that he was sleeping with some of the dancers? Was it Olivia coming off as someone who was uneasy around him? She had half a mind to berate him for making these odd feelings swarm her stomach.
No, no, those weren’t feelings of awkwardness. Those were feelings of pure foolishness. Look at him, why don’t I? Handsome, talented Rick, with his boyish charms and somewhat rugged good looks. It almost wasn’t fair. Why did he have to be so distracting? Not that Olivia wanted to necessarily have sex with him again. Maybe I do. A little. Was it possible to have a “little” sex? And anyway, that didn’t solve the dilemma of things getting complicated with Rick some more. If they slept together again, well…
So of course that devilish man was pushing himself forward, his nose mere inches from Olivia’s as his lips searched for hers.
She should have pushed him away. She should have taken a stand. They were colleagues. Friends at the most. Lovers they were not supposed to be. That complicated things and made Olivia’s life harder. She didn’t need a man distracting her from the important things, like her work, and her… and her…
Oh, her body wanted attention. A lot of it. Right now.
Rick pushed her onto the couch, her head hitting a decorative pillow while his body overtook hers in fewer than five seconds. He did not kiss her with the same power he did back in the dance studio, however. There was a bit of trepidation in this kiss, as if he waited for her to say no and to kick him away. Why would I do that? Deep down Olivia still knew all the reasons this was a bad idea. Yet when she got what she subconsciously wanted, nothing made more sense than making out with a rock star who was just as interested in her.
So what if he fooled around with his backup dancers? So what if he would probably be bored with her in another two weeks? So what, so what? Those were things for people who didn’t like having fun and living in the moment to fret over. Olivia wasn’t going to be like that right now. She would wait until the next morning, when reason returned and she groaned into her pillow – and not because Rick did something to make her groan.
“Wait.” Rick sat up, sigh escaping his throat. Confused, Olivia stared at him, his eyes crossing and his hand disappearing into his lap. “You’re right. It’s a bad idea.”
&nb
sp; Olivia ran her fingers through her tangling hair. “Terrible idea.”
“The absolute worst.”
“We would totally regret it.”
“It’s not like the last time was that good anyway.”
“Hey, now.”
“Sorry.”
Olivia leaned her elbow against the back of the couch, the movie completely forgotten now. So forgotten that Rick had to scramble to pick up the remote and turn the whole thing off. Once the remote fell back on the end table, Olivia said, “The reasons for not having sex are pretty big. For one, I don’t want you disrespecting me because you thought I was easy.”
“What? I don’t think you’re easy. And even if you were, what’s wrong with that?”
“Wow, you’re something else.” Olivia scratched her head, almost in disbelief. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a guy who said something like that.”
“I don’t get it. I hear stuff like that all the time. What’s wrong with casual sex?”
“Well, the other issue is if it would start interfering with our work.”
“Right.”
“So we shouldn’t.”
“Definitely not.”
“We got it out of our systems already. Move on.”
“Yup.”
They kept saying such things, and yet Olivia kept moving closer to him, and yet Rick continued to ease his head toward hers. The words, “Terrible idea to keep doing it,” were on one of their lips when they kissed, Olivia’s arms instantly wrapping around his shoulders and Rick’s hands clamping on her sides. It would only be a matter of seconds before he copped a feel.
Ah, there it was. Rick’s hand grabbing her chest and squeezing for dear life. The sudden pain and discomfort were in reality delectable, especially since Olivia reveled in the physical strength emanating from this man. She admired it whenever they danced together… how many men could pick her up like that without hardly breaking a sweat? Few. Very few. And now to feel that strength pushing into her as Rick kissed her throat and clutched her breast? This was how he seduced her last time.