by Cynthia Dane
“So we both suck.”
“I’ve got a business to run in the interim. This is a big week for us, with the proposals going out and having to hire new staff… I spent all day yesterday conducting interviews for more programmers. There isn’t a short supply of them around here.”
How utterly fascinating. Nala patted his shoulder and pushed off the table. “I’ll be going then. I’ll take the bus home before it gets too late. I’ve got work tomorrow before our big date with your business associates. You owe me, you know. This shopping spree doesn’t count, because I bought clothes to wear around you… and because I don’t care that much for shopping.”
She should have figured his hand would reappear on the front of her body – right next to her crotch, to be exact. Oh, brother. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.”
Ha! Just like that? This man was showing off his god complex if Nala ever saw it. I guess some women find that sexy. She found it sort of creepy. Definitely off-putting. Where’s the guy who wanted to play video games and eat pizza? Maybe she should ask for that. “I don’t want anything but to go home.”
Vincent’s hand lingered on her stomach. “What’s wrong, Nala? If you’re not in the mood, say so.”
“I’m not in the mood.”
He took his hand off her. “Sorry I assumed.”
All Nala could do was conjure a glare. “Have you ever considered getting a real girlfriend? I’m sure it’s great to have your dick get hard again, but I’m not really available for that every time you see me. Maybe you should get an honest woman who wants your cock as badly as you want it sucked every day.”
Vincent sat up in his seat. “What’s gotten into you? You’ve implied numerous times that you’re not put off by us having occasional sex.”
“Yes, Vincent, and occasional means just that. Not every time we see each other.”
“Fair enough. Can you blame a man for inquiring, though?”
“So, getting that real girlfriend?”
He frowned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea right now. Maybe after all is said and done I’ll be able to start looking again.”
Somehow, Nala was amazed that he was able to say that so casually. Was it something he had been thinking about? “Well,” she began, “that’s true. Best not to get another woman wrapped up in this bullshit. Besides…” she picked up the bag containing her outfit for the next day. “I did imply numerous times that I’m okay with playing cock and pussy with you when I’m up for it. How about tomorrow night, after the dinner?”
Vincent looked as if he couldn’t believe what the hell she was saying. “Are you making a sex date with me?”
“Yes. As Nala.”
“As Nala…”
“That means you don’t get to hold me down and do that dirty girl stuff. Trust me, Vincent, I want you too. Carnally, at least. By that, I mean I want to have my way with you like you keep having your way with me. What do you say? When your dinner is over, we’ll come back here and hide your salami in my taco.”
“That’s… not the sexiest talk I’ve ever heard.”
“You mean I’m not good at this dirty talk stuff? Darn.”
“We’ll see where the wind takes us tomorrow. But it’s a date. After dinner, we’ll come back here, and do something.”
Date. He said date. Nala had not thought of it as a date. This was a business transaction at best. Oh my God, I’m officially a sugar baby. If she hadn’t thought it before, she thought it whole heartedly now.
Either way, something was going to happen the next day.
Entry #10
Tomorrow night has nothing to do with The Aviary and everything to do with it at the same time. It’s so important that I have paid for Nightingale to have a shopping spree. Knowing her, however, she’ll do everything in her power to not spend any money. Thus I arranged for a fellow Aviary member to take her out and make sure she gets the clothes and accessories necessary. It’s imperative that we look like a real couple, and that means only the best clothes for her body – that I paid for, as her boyfriend, of course.
She will be surprised to see who is at the dinner. I’ve done a lot of digging since she received her note, and I have some pretty good hunches. It will be interesting to see what transpires.
Meanwhile, I must be on my best behavior. I cannot afford to lose myself around a woman who would barely be in college if she went. When I was in grad school, women her age seemed so young. That was only a few years ago. Now she doesn’t seem so young. I think it’s the age of her mind making her seem much older than she actually is.
Even more dangerous for a man like me. Women wise beyond their years are my #1 weakness.
Chapter 4
“I have no idea what to do or say,” Nala said Friday night, standing at the front of the restaurant. Vincent was beside her, dressed in a silk white button down that left the top two buttons undone. Oh, and that suit jacket and pants… I’m trash. Nala kept her eyes off Vincent when he picked her up, drove her to the restaurant, and then escorted her in. He, on the other hand, had a difficult time keeping his eyes off her.
To be fair, even Nala admitted she was a knockout in her designer black sweater dress that clutched her frame and tapered off before her knee. A thick, gold chain illuminated her neck and rested above her breasts. Rings sparkled on her fingers. Shoes that were easy to walk in but were still sexy clacked on the hardwood floors of the restaurant. The only thing he probably wasn’t crazy about was her hair, tied back into a high, shining ponytail sporting a big, gold clasp around it. Wish I had more than studs to wear in my ears. Diamond studs, but studs nonetheless.
“You don’t have to say anything,” Vincent reassured her, putting his hand on the small of her back as they followed the maître d' to their table. “As for do? Don’t be rude. Simple as that.”
Maybe for you. Nala didn’t think that because Vincent was better bred than her. For someone like her, it was difficult to maintain certain levels of propriety. Especially when nothing lay on the line for her. I’m his hired girlfriend tonight. That’s it. That’s all. No espionage.
Or at least that’s what she thought until they reached their table.
Four people already sat there, with two chairs pulled out for Nala and Vincent. Two of the guests were men Nala had never seen before. An older gentleman, relaxing with a cigar while the younger man next to him carried on the conversation at the table. They looked related. Perhaps father and son.
The other two people? Made Nala stop in her tracks and Vincent stop to fiddle with his cufflinks.
“Why, hello.” Maggie turned to them, her smile both curious and delighted at once. Jay looked up from behind her, flashing them his usual silent grin. What the… Nala looked to Vincent, who was not looking back at her. “How lovely to see you two.”
She held her hand out. Vincent, the consummate gentleman, kissed the back of it. Nala nodded her head in acknowledgement, but did not hurry to look like she knew either Jay or Maggie. At least in this amount of light she could see the wedding rings glistening on their fingers. I guess they really are married. Not that she didn’t believe it before…
“We ordered wine,” Jay announced, gesturing to the other guests. A round of introductions occurred, with Nala being the least interesting person. Regardless, she was introduced to Dominic and Ian Mathers, the father and son team in town to get funding for a hotel they were renovating on the east coast. Nala quickly gathered, as dinner commenced and she was forced to listen to idle business talk, that they were also in talks with Vincent, who had submitted a proposal to write them a hotel managing app.
Everything really is run by apps these days. Nala had barely begun playing with her phone and finding out what her apps could do. One of the first she downloaded was developed by Lane Technological Solutions, an earlier app that helped manage music files on a person’s phone, without having to download other music programs. He likes managing things. All his programs had this theme to them. It appar
ently brought him a ton of money, so…
As for Maggie and Jay, whose real names were not revealed throughout the course of the meal? Damnit. Does Vincent know who they are? They were investing in the Mathers’ hotel, but Nala couldn’t figure out why they were at the dinner. Vincent was supposed to be schmoozing the father and son to commission a program from him. So far, not much of that was happening.
She had her chance to find out when the other trio of men all had to go to the bathroom at once, and Maggie decided to check on her husband’s car. Or is it her car? Nala had yet to be convinced that Maggie and Jay were a real Dom/sub couple, regardless of what Robin claimed.
“This is crazy,” she said to Vincent, the moment they were left alone with wine and salads. “Did you know they were going to be here?”
“I had a hunch. That’s why I really wanted you to come tonight.”
“You had a hunch? Then what are their real names?”
“Don’t know. All I was told was that the other couple joining us tonight were black, and there aren’t a lot of black power couples in this city.”
“Not in the rest of the state either,” Nala mumbled. She gave Vincent credit for noticing, though. “What do you want me to do?”
“Listen for any subtleties they say. Out of all the couples in The Aviary, they’re the most perplexing.”
“You don’t say.”
“I have my suspicions about things.”
“You’re really helping to clear things up.”
Vincent shot her a harsh look. “I can’t do my business and pay attention to them too. The Mathers invited them along. Look, I don’t need you to do much tonight. Be pretty, be charming, and above all, pay attention to…”
“Got it! Sheesh, and here I thought you really wanted me to be by your side tonight.” She was almost put out. Almost. Nala wouldn’t lie and say she didn’t find it invigorating that Vincent wanted her to be his pretend girlfriend in other areas of his life too. He thinks I’m beautiful. He keeps spoiling me. He can barely keep his hands off me. The man might be falling for me. It definitely wouldn’t be good for their undercover gig, no matter how it may have seemed so on the surface. If they got too close to one another… well, things could be compromised. Opportunities could slip through their fingers.
Vincent put a hand on her bare knee. Stop it. “I do want you here. If not as my girlfriend, then as my partner in… well, something.”
If not as my girlfriend… Was it something he thought about? Considered? Nala stared at her half-eaten salad, wondering if Vincent really did want her to be his girlfriend. That would change everything. Not for the better.
“I’m stronger for having you around, Nala. Perhaps I’m not good at expressing it, but there it is.”
She squared her shoulders and attempted to look not only presentable, but functioning as well. Nala needed all the divine interference she could get. “You’re terrible at expressing it,” she finally said. You either want me to be your real girlfriend or not. It’s one thing to pay me to fake it for others, especially if they’re from The Aviary, but don’t put me on weird spots where I have to wonder what you really feel about me.”
Vincent’s lips remained taut. “I’m not good at expressing myself in words. In all honesty, I’m not sure I could express to you how I feel even in binary code.”
“Sexy.”
Nala tried to not let it get to her as the others returned. First the men, laughing as they sat down with the arrival of the soup course, and then Maggie, slipping into her seat between Vincent and Jay as if it were completely natural for her to be flanked by these two men. She exchanged a coy smile with Vincent before digging into her soup.
These people. Rich people. She didn’t understand them. She didn’t really want to understand them. It was that stink of money that made men like Vincent feel free to say, “I don’t know how to express myself in words, har har,” and get away with it. Fuck that. The more Nala sat in her seat, the more she wondered if she was a plaything, a doll, or a girlfriend.
She looked up and happened to catch a glance from the man sitting next to her. Ian Mathers flashed her a friendly smile before perusing the drink menu once more, his soup untouched in front of him. How old is this guy? Vincent’s age? Thereabouts. Yet while Vincent was grim and moody, Ian had an energy to him that made him seem younger than he was. Every time he was caught looking at Nala? She saw an opportunity to find out how Vincent really felt.
“So, Mr. Mathers,” she said, sweetly, as if sugar poured from her mouth. The other people at the table were deep in marketing conversation, something she couldn’t care less about. Ian looked about as interested as a boy in school, too. “Are you enjoying Portland so far?”
“Please. Ian.” He jerked his thumb in his father’s direction. “That’s Mr. Mathers.” When all Nala did was graze her teeth along her lip, he dropped his smile and said, “Portland is very nice, rain aside. It has a nice atmosphere.”
“We’re very relaxed here.”
“I’ve seen that.”
Nala thought back to the conversation happening at her house a few days ago. “Very relaxed, if you catch my drift.” Her hand “happened” to slip beneath the table and over Ian’s unsuspecting knee. He tensed, but did not change his expression. It’s the same kind of expression Vincent has when he’s thinking about something… regarding me. She had seen that careful façade before getting rammed for the first time.
“I catch your drift, Miss…”
“Gale,” she said, switching to how the Nightingale would respond. She’d seduce this man, for whatever gain she had in mind. “You can call me Gale, Ian.”
“Well, Miss Gale.” Nala’s hand was plucked off Ian’s knee and left to dangle between them. “I’m afraid I will have to decline any invitations tonight. You’re a beautiful woman, to be sure, but I sort of have… someone.”
“Oh, dear. Never mind little old me, then.”
The soup dishes were taken away and replaced with tiny plates of the main course. What the fuck is this? Nala kept on her fake smile and decided to not take her chances with suspicious looking food.
She took her chances with Vincent instead, who was also not eating. He was glaring at her, at Ian, and the hand still dangling between them. Oh, did you see that? Nala suppressed a cackle of glee.
“Nala,” Vincent said so low that she could barely hear him. His hand snatched her bare knee, squeezing it until she shifted uncomfortably and the skin surrounding his grip turned white, then pink. “Behave yourself.”
Who did he think he was talking to? His plaything that he didn’t want to share? Or… his girlfriend? Which one do I want to hear? None. She would assess his reaction and go from there. Oh, but he’s so jealous. So jealous.
That alone was kind of fun. Jealous Vincent… he could be a lot of fun. And since Nala had already promised to go home with him after this…
“I am the epitome of good behavior, sir,” she said, batting her eyelashes. “You should eat your dinner, by the way. Wouldn’t want you to go hungry later. You might have to eat something low in nutritional value.” Her. She meant her.
“Uh huh.” Although Vincent returned to the conversation at hand, it was with furrowed brows – and a hand still protectively clutching Nala’s knee, as if she were going to leap up and run off somewhere. With Ian Mathers, probably. Nala picked at her meal with a smirk threatening to split her face.
Five minutes later, when the waiter returned to take away their dirty dishes and promise them the next round, Nala heard a familiar voice on the other side of her jealous date. “Gale, dear?” Maggie sounded suspiciously sweet. “Would you mind running to the ladies’ room with me? Just for a few minutes. I seem to be having a… well, never mind that.”
With this situation forced upon her, Nala had only one possible thing to say. “Oh, of course. Just a second.” She straightened her dress, fingered her hair, and stood with nary a facial reaction. Learning from Vincent too well here. “We’ll be o
nly a few minutes.” She lightly touched Vincent’s shoulder. “Don’t forget about me.”
She got the exact response she wanted – a hand brushing against her thigh, almost possessive.
Nala followed Maggie to the back of the restaurant, where a cordoned off women’s restroom awaited, empty. Although two stalls were available, Maggie turned and locked the main door behind her. Nala spun on her heels, eyes widening and wondering if she should run. Oh, fuck, she’s Crow’s assassin!
But Maggie did not lunge for Nala. Nor did she pull a gun out of her golden, glittering pouch. Instead, she sauntered to the nearest sink, pulling lipstick from her purse and touching up her hostile smile. Her eyes never left Nala’s reflection in the mirror.
I could leave right now. Nala was by the door. Not like she couldn’t unlock it and make a break for it. Jay wouldn’t try something funny out there, would he? Like kill Vincent? Shit, Nala needed to check her paranoia!
“So, Gale,” Maggie said, that sweetness more like salt in a wound. “How are things with your Master?” Why was she talking like that? As if she didn’t believe a single word coming out of her mouth?
Nala shifted on her feet, pretending to be unfazed by Maggie’s glare in the mirror. “Things are great. Wonderful, even. Yup. Everything’s good.”
“Now, hon.” Maggie stood up straight, plunking her tube of lipstick back in her purse. “You don’t have to lie to me. I saw that display out there. Making him jealous so he would pay attention to you? That’s no way to keep a relationship going. Especially with a man like Vinc… Mr. Lane.”
The more she lurked around Maggie, the more suspicious she became. She didn’t act like a submissive woman, either in The Aviary or out of it. She had too many tells. Plus, she couldn’t keep her names straight. Most of the girls from the club were reverent to the other men, even if they didn’t date. That meant no first names. So far, Maggie was doing a bangup job calling Vincent by his first name all the time. Not to mention the sheer disdain and venom dripping from her canine teeth every time she said a word like Master.