Modern Girl's Guide to One-Night Stands

by DRAYER, GINA

  “What can I say?” She shrugged and headed toward the door. “Sex sells.”

  “Go have fun with your secret double-life. Mild-mannered English professor by day, pervy erotica writer by night,” Julia said. “I'll hold down the fort. And I know the drill. If anyone asks, you’re at a boring administrative conference.”

  By six that evening, Julia had all her bags packed and called for the bellman. The huge suite felt empty without Megan and she still had to unpack some of her things at Megan’s condo. She gave a final glance around the room, feeling a lot like Dorothy at the end of the movie. This was the bright and colorful world of Oz and she was headed back to the dreary black and white of her life.

  With a longing sigh, she followed the bellman down to the lobby.

  The perky blond at the desk greeted her with a smile. “Is there something I can do for you?”

  “I’m checking out. Can you call me a car?”

  “Certainly, but it might be a few minutes. The big pharmaceutical conference just let out for the day. Most of the taxis and cars for hire are out right now. Let me call the service and see what I can do.”

  Julia hadn’t eaten yet, so she decided to wait until the crowd died down. She turned to the hallway leading to the restaurant. The thought of eating alone at such a nice restaurant made her cringe. A loud laugh from the other end of the lobby caught her attention as a group of men in business suits walked into the bar. She could always grab a sandwich at the bar and try for a car in an hour. Or maybe she’d just have a few drinks and head back to the room.

  “You know, I think I’ll wait to check out, but can I store my luggage here?”

  “Not a problem. Just let me know when you’re ready to leave.” The blond girl smiled and waved the bellman to a back room.

  Julia smiled as she walked into the bar. The lights were low and a soft jazz quartet played in the corner. Groups of men and women dressed in business attire were scattered around the room, smiling and having a good time. She walked to the far side of the bar. The perfect place to people-watch. Just a few more hours in the fantasy world would do. She could always unpack tomorrow.

  She sat in the corner of the crowded bar and ordered a sandwich. From this vantage point, she could see almost the whole room. Looking over the sea of power suits and Prada, Julia knew this wouldn’t be the place to find someone to help her forget Luke. They were all just like him.

  While she ate, Julia ignored the crowd and started planning her week of apartment hunting. Megan’s offer was nice, and she loved her, but Julia didn’t think she could handle more than a few months of living with her. Still, it was good to have time to find the right place.

  As she started in on her dinner—a BLT and some pub chips—a man in an expertly tailored suit slid onto the stool next to hers.

  “Hey,” he said with the obligatory male chin lift. “It should be against the law for a pretty girl like you to be all alone."

  Julia fought back the urge to roll her eyes. “I don’t mind.”

  “But I do. Let me buy you a drink.”

  He didn’t have a nametag, so he probably wasn’t with the convention. By the look of his suit and the insanely expensive watch he kept flashing, she would guess finance. She also noticed the slight dimpling on his ring finger. No tan lines——he was far too clever for that—but she could make out the indentation of a wedding ring.

  “Thank you…”

  “Mark.”

  “Thank you, Mark. But I already have a drink.”

  He leaned in close and whispered against her neck. The smell of Jack and Coke hung around him like a cloud. “I was thinking about a nightcap in my room.”

  Julia shivered and not in a good way. He made her want to run back up to her own room and shower. She put a hand on his chest and gently pushed him back on his barstool. “Mark. I appreciate the offer, but I’m not interested.”

  “Of course you are. I saw the way you were watching us from across the room.” He traced down the length of her arm. “No need to play coy. I know just what you want."

  Evidently, he was taking her polite no to really mean Yes, but try harder. Did women really do that? If Megan was here, she would have shot down this guy without breaking a sweat. Julia didn’t know how to navigate the bar scene. She was way out of her league. She caught the bartender's eye and sent him a pleading look.

  “Is there a problem?” the tall, muscled man behind the bar asked.

  “No problems. Just having a nice conversation with a beautiful woman,” Mark said, shooting the other man a sly wink.

  John, his shirt said, gave Julia a once-over and looked back to Mark. “I’ve already warned you guys once to stop harassing the other guests. I'm closing your tab. Now, go tell your friends to pack up the party or I’m calling security.”

  “Fuck you.” Mark shoved his empty glass across the bar and stormed back to join his drunken cohorts.

  “Thanks. He just wasn’t taking the hint.”

  “No problem.” He topped off her drink and smiled. “Let me know if anyone else bothers you. Megan’s a friend of mine and I know she’d want me to look out for you.”

  Julia finished her dinner without another interruption. John’s intimidating glare may have helped. By the time she was ready to go, the crowd had started to thin out. She could probably get a car now, but she wasn’t looking forward to the empty condo that awaited her. One more drink, then she’d head back to Megan’s. Back to reality.

  Chapter Two

  Modern Girl Tip #3: Pick The Right Man—Don’t lower your standards. Just because you’re looking for a hookup doesn’t mean you have to settle for the first guy who buys you a drink. Look for someone you’re attracted to, and who doesn’t set off your douche-o-meter.

  The bar was too crowded and Simon wasn’t in the mood for drinks but his business partners insisted they celebrate.

  And they had good reason. It had been a long month of negotiations and legal wrangling, but they’d finally acquired one of New York's oldest advertising agencies. It was exactly the kind of coup their growing marketing firm needed to expand into the global market. But while his friends were toasting their success, Simon knew this was just the beginning of the long, tedious process of merging the two companies.

  When Simon, Peter, and Matt started Millennial Marketing six years ago, they had no idea their small local firm would take off. With their services in demand, branching off into print seemed like the next logical step, but Simon was worried they had taken on more than their small firm could handle.

  “Loosen up,” Peter said. He sat down next to Simon and slapped him on the back. “You should be celebrating. You, my friend, pulled off the impossible. I never thought that old coot would sell at that price, but you managed it. Now, let’s have that drink.” He waved to the waitress, who sauntered up to their table with a smile. “I'd like a round of your finest single malt for me and my friends here. Make sure our glasses stay full and you’ll be well rewarded.”

  “It would be my pleasure, Mr. Bradley.” The waitress smiled at him and winked.

  After she left, Peter sat back and groaned. “We have been working too hard. That’s the most action I’ve gotten in months." He quickly scanned the room and smiled, a competitive glint lighting his eyes. “I think the redhead over by the front door is eying you. Five bucks says I can get the waitress’s number before you can get hers."

  It was a game they used to play in college. Each of them picking a girl to seduce, with bets on who’d succeed first. Peter was smooth, but Simon could usually give him a run for his money. But they weren’t in college anymore, and the game wasn't nearly as charming when you were in your thirties. The sad fact was, after the last few months they’d had, Simon just wanted to go home and get some sleep. One, maybe two drinks, and then he’d make his escape.

  “I’d love to stick around and watch you guys pick up girls, but I’ve got a real woman waiting for me at home,” Matt said, shaking his head. He looked at his watch
for the second time since they’d sat down, and sighed. “I’m going to have my drink and leave. Beth just got home from Nicaragua last week, and I’d really like to spend some quality time with my wife. But by all means, have fun. You both deserve it.”

  “See, Simon. Even Matt thinks you deserve that redhead,” Peter said. “It’s not even going to be a challenge. She’s had her eyes on you since we walked in.”

  The young waitress brought back their drinks and Peter pulled out the charm. “So…”—he looked down at her name badge—“Samantha. You must be new here."

  “I just started last week,” she replied, giggling. An honest to goodness giggle.

  God, is this girl even out of high school?

  “Have you had a tour of the hotel yet?” Peter looked over to Simon and smiled, a cat-that-ate-the-canary look plastered all over his face. “The view from the executive suites is spectacular. I just happen to have one reserved for the weekend. When is your shift over? I’d love to show it to you.”

  Simon rolled his eyes and turned to Matt. “Is it just me or are the women in the bars getting younger?”

  “I hate to break it to you, but you’re the one getting older.” Matt picked up the scotch and gave him a commiserative toast. "I’m glad I’m off the market.”

  “I take it things are still good since she took the new position?” Simon asked.

  “Good doesn’t begin to describe it.”

  Matt looked the part of the happily married man. Or at least that’s what Simon assumed someone in love looked like. He didn’t exactly have great examples to pull from in his life. “I meant what I said at your reception. She is your better half. You’re different with her. I don’t know—happier. Don’t screw that up again.”

  “Fuck. Since when did we become the sisterhood of the traveling panties?” Peter handed him another drink and slid across the seat, resting his head on Simon’s shoulder. "Are you going to start talking about your periods next?”

  “Oh, just you wait,” Matt said. “One of these days there will be a girl who will get under that thick skin of yours.”

  “Too much hassle. I like being single.”

  “Are you kidding?” Simon pushed Peter off him. “There’s no way any woman in their right mind would fall for this asshole.”

  Matt’s phone buzzed. “Speak of the devil.” He swiped his finger across the screen and smiled at the message. He tapped out a quick reply. The phone buzzed again before he could put it down. Glancing at the screen, Matt’s eyes went wide. He licked his lips and quickly shoved the phone back in his pocket. “Sorry guys, I’m out of here. I just got a much better offer. Good luck with that redhead. I think you’ll need it.”

  Simon looked back to the group of women, and saw the redhead in question raise a glass in his direction. She was tall and wispy. Her not-quite-natural red hair was pulled back, accentuating her long neck.

  She was beautiful, and she was definitely interested. She noticed his attention and licked her lips suggestively. He could probably hook up with her tonight if he wanted. Simon didn’t have the time to date. And after the drama with his last steady relationship, he’d backed away from the social climbers. If he was going to start something, he wanted it to be with someone real. He was going to try to slip out before the redhead got any bolder.

  “I think I’m calling it a night, too,” Simon said.

  “It’s not even nine. I’m staying. I think that waitress is into me.”

  “Good luck, man.”

  Simon grabbed his jacket and went to the bar to order a sandwich to take home. He tried to find a quiet spot to catch the bartender’s attention. John was at the far end of the bar, so Simon headed that direction. “Hey, John. Looks like you have a lively crowd tonight."

  The bartender shook his head, and rubbed down the counter in front of Simon. “A Big Pharma convention.”

  Simon looked back over his shoulder to the redhead and laughed. He should have guessed. She had sales written all over her designer suit. “Pharmaceutical, huh? Doesn’t surprise me. The way that redhead was eye-fucking me, I bet she’s pushing Viagra.”

  There was a loud guffaw next to him and he turned to see a petite woman sitting in the corner. He had completely missed her when he came up to the bar. When she noticed him staring, she ducked her head, a bright blush staining her cheeks.

  “What?” Simon asked. “Don’t you think so?"

  When she looked up from her drink, misty blue-gray eyes met his gaze. She looked surprised and a little irritated that he was talking to her.

  “If I were marketing the drug, she’s exactly the person I’d send in. She’s confident enough,” he said, trying to goad her into a conversation.

  The mystery woman turned to look at the redhead in question, tilting her head a bit. There was a sharp focus in those eyes now. Simon took the opportunity to get a good look at her.

  She wasn’t wearing a convention badge, but that didn’t mean much. She could have taken it off, but still he didn’t think so. She wasn't dressed like the rest of the crowd, wearing jeans and a sweater as opposed to suits and party dresses. The clothes fit her well and they looked expensive. Her rusty auburn hair was pulled back in a ponytail that fell in ringlets down her back. Even casually dressed she looked put-together and polished. She could easily be a society wife on vacation in the Windy City. He looked for a ring, but she had her hand tucked in her pocket.

  Whoever she was, she’d definitely caught his interest. She was quite striking in an unconventional way, with her wide eyes and a dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks that most women would try to cover. Simon couldn’t believe he had overlooked her.

  The woman turned back and smiled at him as if she knew a secret. The smile transformed her face.

  “I stand by my original impression. Not Viagra. She’s far too sharp. Too aggressive and forward. My bet is on a cancer drug. Something that might as easily kill you as cure you. Now the blond next to her, she’d be who I’d pick to sell Viagra. She’s soft and curvy, with those big bedroom eyes. She’s got that naughty librarian look down, don't you think?”

  Simon turned back and looked at the group of women again. Now that she had pointed it out, he saw the sharp edges and hard lines in the redhead’s clothing and mannerisms. She did look aggressive. And the blond had large round eyes and pouty lips that screamed sex appeal. He looked down at the woman sitting next to him, amazed that she saw all that in just a few seconds.

  He scanned the crowd again. A man near the door caught his eye. He was lean and reserved, and reminded Simon of a funeral director. “What about the guy in the purple shirt?” Simon asked, making a game out of it.

  “Blood pressure medication, for sure. Look how calm and relaxed he is. And the guy next to him,” she said with a laugh in her voice, really getting into it now. “Look at the way he dominates the conversation. He’s loud and boisterous. I’d bet he peddles some kind of social anxiety meds. He screams ‘life of the party.'”

  “And you? What kind of drug are you selling?” Simon asked.

  She blushed again and tucked a fallen lock behind her ear. “I’m not with the convention.”

  “On vacation?” he asked.

  “No, not really. I’m in the process of moving. I spent the week here while I got settled.”

  She looked away and Simon got the impression that wasn’t the whole story, but he wasn’t about to press it. He was enjoying their conversation, and if she didn’t want to talk about her move, he was fine with that.

  “Can I buy you a drink?” he asked, looking down at her empty glass.

  She bit her lip, and didn’t look up.

  Simon was afraid she was going to send him away and he tried to put her at ease. “A soda, maybe. I’m not trying to get you drunk or anything.”

  She laughed nervously and nodded. “Sure. Another drink will be great. Bushmills. On the rocks.”

  “I’m Simon, by the way,” he said, and held out his hand for her.

 
; Unlike the guy earlier, Julia wasn’t put off by this man. He was charming and casual, and somehow found his way under her defenses. She took his hand, and smiled. “Juliette.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Juliette. That’s a pretty name.”

  “I hate it. My mom was a literature professor. I guess it could have been worse. I could have ended up with a name like Ophelia or Hester.”

  “I like it,” he said, and smiled.

  And oh, that smile. With that messy mop of curly blond hair and that close beard, Simon looked like sex on a stick when he smiled. He wasn’t being lascivious or vulgar, but there was something in his look that made Julia’s insides go melty.

  “Just call me Julia. That’s what my friends usually call me,” she blurted. Smooth. He said he liked her name, so the first thing she did was tell him to call her something else.

  “Julia,” he repeated.

  The word slipped out of his lips like a caress, and for the first time in her life Julia felt like doing something reckless.

  Four months. It had been four months since she’d last been with a man. With Luke. And even then it was utilitarian. She wanted to erase the memory of Luke from her body, and Simon might just be the man to do it.

  When the drink came, he picked up his glass and tipped it in her direction. “Usually the only people I meet in this bar are convention-goers. It’s nice to meet a real person for a change.”

  Instead of bringing her glass up to meet his, she threw back the contents in one gulp. If she was going to do this, she would have to do it now before her nerve was gone. She took a deep breath and faced him. “I’ve never been into the bar scene. Even when I was in college," she started, and Simon looked like he was preparing for her to blow him off. He probably wasn’t expecting what came out of her mouth next. “This getting-to-know-you chitchat has been lovely, but why don't we go back to my room?”