by Michele Hart
Introductions had already not gone well.
“You’re Elissa,” Greg accused as he returned to his seat, then felt like a dope as he looked this woman over in finer detail. She was gorgeous and leggy, had all her teeth, flawless alabaster skin, smelled delicious, and wore the same scowl Tyson sported just before he bit Holyfield’s ear off.
“Yes, I’m Elissa. I’d planned on slapping you.”
Greg tossed another slug of his martini down, this swallow blissfully free of an olive. “Well, mission accomplished.”
Sissy busted into a raucous laughter.
The spice-tressed goddess shook her head. “Yeah, but you lived through it. Not as satisfying.”
Sissy exploded into a delighted grin. “I like her already.”
“Elissa, this is Natalie. Everyone calls her Sissy.”
Sissy smiled sweetly and stretched her hand over the polished bar. “Lots of boys with few sisters in our neighborhood. I got stuck with the nickname. It looks like you’ve met a few of the mangy mutts from our pass.”
A pleasant smile blossoming onto her soft-looking, cherry-painted lips, Elissa took Sissy’s hand and gave it a shake. She really couldn’t be too mad if she produced such a dimple-winked smile. “Nice to meet you, Sissy. Was your neighborhood on Immaturity Street
? I see not all of the boys grew up.”
Greg tossed up a pout. “I’m not as bad as they are.”
Elissa cast him a stare that would’ve downed an elephant. “That remains to be seen. Mister Greg Moretti, I’m being paid to be your dinner companion for the next two hours. I’m having a moral crisis over the predicament, but I’m setting that aside for the instant wealth.”
Curt, she referred to her watch. “An hour and fifty-five minutes until my exit. Do you have my money?”
He put out a little chuckle, and snapped the olive skewer in half. “Those bastards. How much did they promise you?”
“Three hundred dollars.”
He nearly choked again, grateful he hadn’t attempted another olive.
Gawd! I hope she isn’t a prostitute.
“Three hundred bucks! Those bastards! They bet me a grand I couldn’t do it! They’ll still net seven hundred dollars! I’m proud of their sense of gamble!”
“Couldn’t do what?” Elissa asked, a covert warning to her curiosity.
Greg delivered his best blinding shock of white teeth, pulled out a bar stool beside him, and patted it invitingly. “Can I buy you a drink?”
“That’ll be a good start.”
She took the seat beside him, setting a tiny purse on the bar. To Sissy, she said, “I’ll have the most expensive bottle of champagne in the house.”
“You sure know how to punish a man,” he commented, amused.
“Like you don’t know,” she replied, her grin sly. She turned to Sissy again, and more seriously asked, “May I have a peach daiquiri instead, Sissy?”
“On its way,” Sissy promised, and turned to her fruit and mixers with a smug and mirthful expression he knew she’d keep all night now.
Elissa turned to him, and her blue eyes sparkled. “I figured something dirty was going down. So, what’s the nature of this dark wager?”
He didn’t wish to define it, but Sissy didn’t mind. “Greg experienced temporary insanity and told those jerks he could fall in love with a woman’s mind and heart.”
Greg was relieved and impressed with Sissy’s word choice. She could’ve blurted out the words: ugly, lackluster, unattractive, hard-on-the-eyes.
Elissa shook her head, clearly displeased over the bet, causing the scattering of her gorgeous paprika tresses to graze her breasts in a very distracting way. “How’s this going to pay off for you in one dinner?”
He cleared his throat and wished for wise words. “Well, the actual challenge is for me to date a … brainy girl for thirty days. To see if I can fall for her in a month.”
“Sounds like reality TV. Well, my friend, you’ve lost already. You have an hour and fifty minutes.”
Gathering all her attributes into his eye with an appreciation for detail, Greg wasn’t so sure he’d lost yet. She didn’t qualify at all for this bet. Elissa was a treat for the male eye.
Just too pleased at this turn of events, Sissy set the frozen drink, decorated with a fresh slice of peach and whipped cream, before Elissa, and Sissy wore her woman-mantra look in her eye.
Never underestimate the power of a woman. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. These boots are made for walkin’.... One of those sang through Sissy’s brain at this moment. He knew the look.
Feeling a fraction of remorse for Elissa’s position, Greg explained, “I’m sorry you’ve been caught up in a juvenile bet. Derek didn’t tell me to bring three hundred dollars, and I don’t have the cash on me to pay you out of this.”
Her shoulders slumped, and her expression crashed. “I knew I shouldn’t have bought the name-brand ketchup.”
Greg held up a one-handed halt. “Hold it. No one told me ketchup’s involved.”
Elissa smirked. “Not directly.”
“Good, ‘cause I’m not into that.”
Sissy leaned into the conversation. “I’ve heard some of the things he’s into.”
He cast her a squinty-eyed warning, flashing gritted teeth.
Elissa shook her red tresses, and replied to Sissy, “I don’t care what your friend’s into, except buying me the most expensive meal in the house to make up for this nightmare. At least I got to hit him.”
Humor lit her pretty blue eyes, so like blue topazes set against peach satin. He found her terribly cute with a dark and twisted wit, glorious dimples deployed for maximum devastation. Her paprika tresses rode her shoulders like waves on river rapids, long enough to cover her luscious bosom. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her.
Something was wrong here. Something didn’t make sense. The Amigos had described her as looking unfashionably homeless.
Greg heard the ring of his cell phone playing Sympathy for the Devil, and knew by the song who called.
“It’s Allen, the most evil of the Amigos.”
Chapter 2
“Invite him down,” Elissa offered. “I have a belt in the mouth for him.”
“God, I love her,” Sissy put in. “She doesn’t even know Allen, but she’s already sensed he needs a good flogging.”
Putting a finger to his lips to silence their oh-so-accurate assessments, Greg pulled his cell from his coat pocket, opened the flip phone, and answered, “You weasel. I’m sending the Incredible Hulk to beat you senseless for all this, as we speak.”
“Ha!” Allen shouted on the other end of the conversation. “Gorgeous, isn’t she?”
Greg sent his eyes to examine Elissa again. She was a knockout and, having met her swing, probably literally. “In all honesty, I gotta say, I like what I see.”
For a second there, Allen was speechless, a moment for the history books. “You must be kidding. I have old socks that look better.”
“Not kidding at all. I wouldn’t date your socks. She’s smart, witty, charming. I can already tell dinner isn’t going to last long enough.”
Allen laughed so hard, Greg had to pull the phone away from his ear. Sissy rolled her eyes. Elissa smirked. They could hear the entire conversation.
“Well, damnit. We’d planned on sitting at the bar with Sissy and watching the two of you from afar. This has all the entertainment appeal of witnessing the Titanic sink, a morbid pleasure, but we just came through the door from soccer practice, and we need showers. We probably won’t be there for another hour or two.”
Greg shook his head, ever-amazed at his friend’s immaturity. Greg hoped to discourage the guys from coming down here and seeing Elissa tonight. “I’ve a better idea. Why don’t I bring her to the party Saturday night?”
Elissa shook her head. Greg put his palms together, and mouthed, Please?
She shook her head again, causing her red hair to bounce over her pale shoulders. He notice
d how nice her shoulders were. He wanted to caress them. She smelled like dessert.
“If you insist on further humiliation. Just bring Sissy.”
“Sissy’s working Saturday night.”
“You’re just trying to keep me from seeing her,” Allen accused.
“Sissy doesn’t like you.”
“Of course, she does.”
Sissy held her mouth, apparently not trusting herself unblocked. Even Elissa cracked a grand smile while she spun the straw in her drink.
“You’re not old enough for her.”
Allen’s voice screeched, “What the hell are you talking about? I’m four years older than her!”
“I meant psychologically.”
Allen gave an acrimonious huff, and Greg winked to Sissy.
“Don’t you dare get in my way. She’s my future wife.”
“She deserves better than you.”
“There’s no one better than me.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. There’s Jacob Sutter up the road.”
“He’s eighty-three years old, Greg.”
“Jimmy Cliburn.”
“You know the kid’s mentally challenged.”
“Yeah, but so are you.”
“So, you’re Mister Chuckles tonight.”
Greg laughed aloud. “Oh yeah. This night couldn’t be going better. I’m scoring with Elissa tonight.”
The paprika-tressed goddess put her forehead in her hand in mourning, incongruent to her grin, and Greg didn’t bother to fight his enjoyment of cruel taunts to Allen. Sissy was right. Picking on one another was a game between them, their ritual of male-bonding. It had a sharp and stabby bliss all its own.
“Yuck,” Allen commented. “Dude, I wouldn’t sleep with her with your body parts.”
“Glad to hear it. I don’t want you handling my body parts.”
“I recommend two bags, one for her head and one for yours, in case her bag falls off. And antibacterial spray. She looks contagious.”
“You’re such a smooth operator,” Greg told Allen. “Don’t know how Sissy has disliked you for twenty-three years.”
“It’s a phase. She’s gonna fall for me at any time.”
“Only if you trip her.”
Elissa fought laughter, her hand now spread over her own mouth. It tickled Greg that she enjoyed the ratty camaraderie among his childhood friends. He could tell already she had a great sense of humor. He’d work that. The two men said their goodbyes, and Greg returned the phone to his coat pocket.
Looking back to the girls, he was struck again by Elissa’s soft beauty, sensuous without effort, and he thanked himself for filling his vision with her. He appreciated the way her cherry lips puckered a bit when she tasted irony. She had an expressive mouth he thought just might conceal a marvelous kiss.
Just minutes ago, Greg had cursed his brother and friends. Now he blessed their demon hearts. Had he thought he’d pay a lot to get out of this? He’d pay a lot to stay in.
“A plan to get the Amigos back just popped into my head,” he told Sissy and Elissa, and he liked the twinkle it brought to her pretty eyes. “Are you in for cooking up a dish of revenge, Elissa?”
Her smile was like sunshine. “It’s my favorite meal to serve. If I’m getting ripped out of three hundred dollars tonight, count me in.”
Sissy applauded.
From the long drive to Miami and the long drive home, oh what a turn the night had taken. Greg felt re-energized over all he’d accomplished today to the point of needing to suppress the telltale grin of satisfaction. He’d discovered a beautiful and sharp-witted woman while supplying his pre-teenage gang a metaphoric slap in the backs of their heads. What’s more soul-pleasing than that combination? One really couldn’t expect more pleasures from life than that!
“Let’s make them lose the bet. Let’s stay together for a month and a day. We’ll beat them out of a thousand dollars, and you can have the money.”
Her paprika-red brows rose. “What’s in it for you?”
“The humiliation of lifelong friends is all the treasure I need.”
And time with the goddess, he figured, if she agreed to it, if he crafted everything that happened from here on in just the right way.
His nose picked up the scent of her toffee perfume again. Just that moment, he was filled with a craving for Julian’s chocolate cheesecake with a warm toffee sauce dripping over it.
Elissa excused herself to the powder room, and Greg took the moment in hand. Sissy watched, too interested, as he waved to the staff, and quickly rattled off an order of several appetizers to-go without referring to the menu. Spotting the party at his favorite table rising to leave, Greg called the hostess over and forbade her to seat anyone else at that particular table. It held the most private seats in the restaurant.
He turned back to Sissy to warn her, “The Amigos will be here in a half hour. You know when Allen says an hour, he means half that. He’s always hoping to catch someone at something.”
Sissy nodded, then flashed her know-it-all glint, darted her eyes to Elissa’s empty chair, then back to him with a question mark in her expression. “You have that hunter-look in your eye.”
He couldn’t help but smile. “Have you seen prettier prey? She doesn’t have a chance against me.”
“I can tell.”
When she returned, Greg spun in his bar seat, seized Elissa’s drink along with his, and he led her to his favorite booth.
Settling across the table from her, he rewarded his eyes with her beauty, her lustrous red hair now tumbling down to cover her breasts and dance over the shiny black satin looking more like lingerie than dress. He had to focus on something else to keep his concentration.
“Feel like doing some role-playing for that grand?” he proposed, rolling the coaster he’d carried from the bar. “Allen’s folks are throwing a party at his house Saturday. I propose we show up there, give the Amigos a little surprise. They’ll be stunned to see us together, and the countdown to your grand will begin.”
“Nope,” she countered in negotiation. “Starts tonight. Countdown starts tonight.”
He nodded, acquiescing. What was a few days’ difference? “Fair enough. Tonight was your first step into this iniquity.”
Elissa shook her head. “Saturday might be a problem. I’m job-hunting, and I can’t promise I won’t have a job by Saturday. It’s a server’s best night for tips.”
“I’ll cross my fingers you won’t get hired.”
Grinning, she tossed her linen napkin at him. Then she looked around her, scoping out the restaurant. “I wonder if Rubia’s is hiring.”
Greg knew if she landed a job here, it would spell the end of everything he imagined doing with her, and he imagined a lot.
“I hear it’s a great place to eat, bad place to work. The boss is a demanding prick, the reason why it’s so nice. I’ll impress upon Allen, Derek, and Jerry the notion they should pay you what the Amigos already owe you, and you’ll be three hundred dollars richer for it.”
That commitment gave her a smile of relief, and he could think of other propositions that might bring her joy.
His eyes swept over her again, even without his conscious command. He wanted to reach over the wide table to her beautiful hair tumbling down her shoulders like twin waterfalls. He imagined taking up a paprika tendril, feel its texture, but that was a little too familiar for people who’d met only fifteen minutes before.
The Amigos couldn’t have seen how beautiful Elissa really was. They’d made a tragic mistake if they figured Greg couldn’t fall for her. Tragic for their wallets.
“Tomorrow, they’ll ask me questions to confirm you were here. We’re supposed to have spent the night together. Tell me about yourself so I can at least give them a few details.”
For a second she looked lost, and Greg was sure she’d refuse giving up any personal information, but then she replied, “I’m a grad school student.”
“At USF? That’s where Derek’s
attending. What’s your major?”
“Astronomy,” she replied, as if it were some ordinary business course.
Surprised by so difficult a science, he couldn’t hold back the glow of respect. “Stargazer, are you?”
Dimples deployed, she nodded, appearing blissful for the subject. Light from the weak spotlight above them hit the shafts of her hair to cast a gloss. “Ever since I was a kid. I always wondered what other planets held people looking back at us. When I gaze into space, I feel like I’m getting a closer look at God.”
Greg suppressed the outward expression of pleasure to notice she was not only beautiful, but smart and spiritual, as well. He wished he could keep her here longer and learn every detail about her while he watched her pretty mouth.
“How many brothers and sisters do you have?” he asked, just to keep her revealing little parts of herself, but that produced a tart expression. He’d have to earn that answer. “Too personal?”
“You’ll have to ad-lib as you go,” she replied, a bit perturbed, given away by her mashed lips. “Let’s not forget we’re strangers.”
Wall of ice. He’d have to put a flame-thrower to that. They’d not be strangers long if he held sway over it. And he did.
“What kind of party is this? I can’t say I like parties, Greg. I’m a shy person and a loner, not the talky type, not a social butterfly. What’s the dress code for this shindig?”
“Casual summer dress, LL Bean catalog.”
She stuck her tongue out in distaste, clearly not fond of the Florida conformist-generation fashion.
“It’s a high school graduation party for Allen’s little sister Mary Beth, a social event for the old neighborhood. There’s always someone throwing a gathering somewhere up the block. I grew up in a large, close-knit neighborhood with an appetite for social affairs. We’ll not stay overlong.”
Elissa released a breath of relief, making her breasts heave, and that made it hard for Greg to think.
He meant difficult. Difficult to think.
Shaking thought back to his plan of action, he coached her, “You shouldn’t stay silent, though. Talk all that space babble. Show them what you’ve got going on upstairs. We’ll give them all a shock.”