Text Appeal

by Lexi Ryan

  Riley studied the phone again, a sleek little chrome number the guy at the counter swore would be her new crack cocaine—was that supposed to be a selling point? “If I get the position. I had to put in an application like everyone else.”

  “You’ll get it!” Lacey said, tossing her purse on the counter. “You’ll be the best GM Grand Escape has ever had.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Riley muttered. She shook her head, trying to toss thoughts of work to the side. “I need to figure out how to program my numbers into this phone before dinner.” She walked across the living room and pulled her address book from her desk, leaving Jaws behind to beg for attention from Lacey.

  “Wow,” Lacey said, pulling the ball of apricot fur into her arms. “I didn’t know anyone still had one of those.”

  “Good thing I do.”

  “Yeah, I guess so. It’s just a pain because if you hadn’t lost your old phone, they could have synched them and loaded all your numbers into the new phone for you.”

  Riley shook her head. “If I hadn’t lost my old phone, I wouldn’t have bought the new phone.”

  Lacey rolled her eyes. “Ry, it was the size of my purse and it didn’t even have a camera.”

  “I never had to worry about misplacing it.” She frowned. “Until I did. And who the heck decided phones should double as cameras?”

  “Someone who understood the hidden potential of phone sex. You needed to upgrade.”

  “Yeah, well I guess it’s good that today’s trip to Fredrick’s was on your brother,” Riley mumbled.

  “Here, give me that. I’ll be able to program it way faster than—” She stopped and her big blue eyes rounded. “Wait. What did you just say?”

  “I ran into Charlie at Fredrick’s of Hollywood.” Just talking about him made her lips tug into a grin. Dear God, she was pathetic.

  “You did?”

  “I know I said I wasn’t going to shop there anymore, but they were having a sale and—”

  Lacey’s swatted her arm. “I don’t care about why you were in there! A girl deserves pretty things.”

  Riley rolled her eyes. “I don’t need a whole closet full of lingerie though.”

  “Who cares? God knows if I were about to come into the amount of fat cash you are, I’d have twenty maxed out credit cards and a different pair of panties for every day of the year. I want to know why my brother was buying you underwear!”

  Riley ignored Lacey’s assumption that she was even interested in the “fat cash.” At thoughts of Charlie, she put her hand over her face. “Oh, God, it was embarrassing! And not underwear, no, nothing that innocuous.”

  “What’d he buy you?” Lacey’s gaze shot to the nondescript, eco-friendly canvas shopping bag on the couch. “Is it in there?”

  But before Riley could respond, Lacey was pulling out sexy, sexy leather and Riley’s ING was squirming impatiently, saying, Let me try it on. Now!

  Lacey’s jaw dropped. “Oh. My. God. This is so hot.” She laid it out on the back of the couch and looked at Riley. “Do I even want to know why my brother bought this for you?” She smiled. “Charlie’s always been sweet on you. If he weren’t my brother, I’d tell you to go act like the young woman you are and have a wild affair.”

  Riley thumped her friend’s arm. “I’m with Chaz.”

  “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas,” Lacey said with a shrug.

  “Yeah, but I have to live here.” Riley looked at her watch. “Listen, speaking of Chaz, will you really program that for me? I’m going out with him tonight, and he gets irritated if I answer unimportant calls when we’re together.”

  Lacey rolled her eyes. “What do you see in him, anyway?”

  Riley shrugged, dropping the address book on the end table. “He’s a nice guy.” She headed for the bathroom to get ready.

  Lacey scoffed. “Riley, hon, I love you, and if this is who you want to be with, I’ll shut my mouth, but you seem awfully serious about this guy and you’ve never even played the field.”

  Riley plugged in her straightening iron to warm, then climbed into the shower. “What?”

  “I’m afraid you’re with Chaz for the wrong reasons,” Lacey said over the sound of the spray.

  Riley’s jaw dropped. “Like what?” She peeked around the shower curtain.

  Lacey was sitting on the bathroom counter, address book on her lap, cell phone in her hand. Riley had known Lacey since after college when they’d both needed roommates to save a little cash. Shortly after they’d moved in together, Riley had gotten Lacey a job at the front desk of Grand Escape. Living and working together, the two bonded quickly, but never in all that time had Lacey said anything so blatantly disapproving of her relationship with Chaz. “How can you say that?”

  Lacey shrugged. “Riley, he’s your dad’s favorite employee. Don’t you think that influences your feelings for him more than a little?”

  She closed the curtain again and shampooed her hair. “That’s not fair. My father likes him, but that’s not why I like him.”

  Riley could hear Lacey’s dramatic sigh over the shower. She thought she heard her mumble, “I don’t know why else you would.”

  Riley closed her eyes under the pounding water and sighed. Chaz was a good guy. He would make a good husband. A good partner in the successful life they both wanted. “I think you just don’t know him as well as I do,” she muttered, trying—and failing—to keep the pout out of her voice.

  “You’re probably right. Don’t be upset. The stuff with Charlie just…had me thinking.”

  Riley turned off the water, then grabbed a towel. She wouldn’t be angry with Lacey because Lacey had no way of knowing Chaz was so good to her. If anything, this was Riley’s fault because when she did talk to Lacey about her love life, it was usually to complain about the sex—something it was time she took into her own hands. She’d been complaining that things between her and Chaz were a little bland, but she had a spice cabinet, didn’t she?

  Chaz was a great catch and she’d be foolish to let him slip by.

  Wrapping the towel under her arms, Riley stepped out of the shower.

  “I’ll get out of your way,” Lacey said, hopping off the counter.

  “He’s good for me,” Riley whispered when she was alone. But what about me? her Inner Naughty Girl asked. Riley sighed as she reached for her hairdryer and brush.

  Her father was retiring at the end of the month. He would still be involved in making the major company decisions, but later this week he would announce whom he would leave in charge to be the General Manager of Grand Escape. Riley hoped he would name her, and with Chaz by her side, they would eventually run Carter Hotels and Entertainment in a way that made her father proud.

  Chunk by chunk, she dried her hair with a round brush, taming the dark curls with each stroke.

  “There!” Lacey called from the living room. “Your phone is all programmed, and in record time, too. God, I’m good!”

  “Thanks, Lacey,” Riley said, taking the flat iron to her hair now. “I owe you one.”

  Sure, Chaz didn’t make her heart pound like a certain poker player. But she didn’t feel safe with guys like Charlie Singleton. She never knew what would happen next when she was around them. When she was with Chaz, she didn’t have to worry about life spinning out of her control. She always knew what would happen next.

  “I’m sorry for what I said about Chaz,” Lacey said, strolling into the bathroom and placing Riley’s phone on the sink. “I guess I just worry because I know you’re not completely—” she smirked “—satisfied in that relationship.”

  In the mirror, Riley watched the blush seep into her cheeks. “I’m going to work on that. Don’t worry about me.”

  Lacey twisted a lock of her blond hair, studying Riley. “Maybe you should send him a suggestive text. That should be gas on the fire.”

  Right. Chaz sexting. Riley couldn’t see it and raised an eyebrow to let Lacey know as much.

  Lacey shrugged. �
�Just an idea,” she said, turning to leave.

  “Hey, Lace, do you know any reason Charlie would have been served with court papers?”

  ***

  Charlie watched his sister take a long drink of her red wine and ignored the pap member snapping pictures from the corner of the dimly lit restaurant. As soon as the asshole did a little fact-checking and discovered the long-legged blonde across the table was Charlie’s sister, not his latest love interest, the pictures would go in the trash and Charlie would be old news again.

  “What are you going to do?” Lacey asked.

  “Call my lawyer?” The manila envelope had held a subpoena for paternity testing. Paternity testing. The words still made him flinch.

  After sixteen years, Angela wanted to prove her child was Charlie’s. Charlie didn’t need to ask, “Why now?” He knew. Charlie had been a nobody when he and Angela had been fooling around. A nobody with no connections and no future. Apparently, winning a handful of national poker tourneys made him a somebody in Angela’s eyes, and now—like everybody else he’d ever shared a meal with—she wanted a piece of his checking account. Would she have bothered if she’d known that checking account was rapidly dwindling, right alongside Charlie’s future in professional poker?

  “I don’t really see what other options I have.”

  Lacey swatted his hand, making his beer slosh out of his glass. “Don’t be a jerk, Charlie.”

  He slid his sunglasses down his nose and narrowed his eyes at her. “Excuse me?”

  Lacey rolled her eyes. “Just because Angela wants to pull out the big guns doesn’t mean you have to. What about the kid? What does he think about all this?”

  “Hell if I know. Angela wasn’t exactly forthcoming with information.”

  Lacey nodded. “Yeah, I remember her from high school. I never did know what you saw in her.”

  Charlie chuckled. “Long legs and sexual aptitude.”

  “Jesus. Real mature.”

  He lifted his hands. “What do you want? I was sixteen years old. I hadn’t developed the depth of character I have today.”

  She snorted. “Speaking of your ‘depth,’ I saw what you bought my roommate. That was about as subtle as skywriting, Smooth. I suppose just asking her to dinner hadn’t occurred to you?”

  Charlie’s lip twitched. “That stuff’s for amateurs. I have skills that are much more effective than that old fashioned crap.”

  Lacey didn’t look convinced. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms, giving him a visual once-over. “Well, the outfit’s hot, I’ll give you that, but she still went out with her boy Chaz right after she got home, so I wouldn’t be so sure of your ‘skills.’”

  “Yeah, she mentioned him. What’s his story, anyway?”

  “He’s her daddy’s Golden Boy. Like Riley, he assists Carter with running the hotels, but mostly he manages the string of sleazy clubs Carter owns.”

  Charlie raised a brow. “I heard the Black Diamond clubs were some of the classier in town.”

  Lacey snorted. “You can put lipstick on a pig, but it’s still a strip club.”

  “So, this guy, he has Daddy’s approval. How serious are they?”

  “They’re not engaged yet, but Riley’s been seeing him for a couple years now. Personally, I think the only reason he hasn’t popped the question is that he wants to fuck around, and that will be more difficult with a ring on his finger. Sooner or later, though, he’s gonna ask. He’s a lot less interested in Riley than he is in her trust fund.”

  Charlie shook his head. “I don’t trust any man who doesn’t like lingerie.”

  Lacey was silent for a beat, her attention on Tall, Dark, and Handsome at the bar. “So, what are you going to do?”

  “It’s too early to show my hand, but I’ll pay to see the flop.”

  Lacey rolled her eyes. “In English, please?”

  “Riley’s cute, and if this guy hasn’t made things official—especially if he’s screwing around—”

  “I don’t know that for a fact.”

  Charlie shrugged. Lacey wasn’t the type to indulge in idle gossip. If she suspected something, there was probably some truth to it—truth Charlie just might be able to bring to the surface. “I see no reason why I should back down,” he said.

  It’d be different if Riley weren’t attracted to Charlie, but he knew that look she got in her eyes when he was around. He wasn’t sure what kind of hand Chaz was holding, but if Riley’s eyes on his body were any indication, Charlie was the one with pocket aces.

  “Interesting. What about the kid?”

  Shit. He didn’t know.

  A sour taste filled his mouth. He wouldn’t let the kid be used as a pawn in some scheme. “I have money.” Some. For now. “If I’m really the kid’s father, she can have it.”

  Lacey leaned forward and glared at him. “Aren’t you missing a possibility here?”

  He frowned. “What’s that?”

  “You could be more than a sperm donor. You could be the boy’s dad.”

  ***

  “I had a fantastic time tonight,” Chaz said, brushing a lock of hair from Riley’s face.

  She leaned against the stairwell wall outside her apartment, and his dark eyes met hers. Nice eyes—warm and comforting. But her mind drifted to a different set of eyes. Icy blue and dangerous eyes.

  “It was nice,” she murmured.

  Stop thinking about Charlie! Maybe she was thinking about him because they had the same name: Charles. Charles Singleton and Charles Spencer—if her brain linked them, that was perfectly understandable, nothing to feel guilty about.

  Chaz also looked a little like Charlie. They were both tall with dark hair and nice builds. She smiled at Chaz and gave him an appraising look. His body was good. It was...fine. But he looked about as much like Charlie as a veggie burger looked like the real, juicy thing. Sure, there were similarities, and at a quick glance one could be mistaken for the other. But the truth was, each promised an entirely different kind of experience.

  “You keep looking at me like that and I won’t make it home tonight,” Chaz said with a smile.

  “I’m just thinking about how much I enjoy being with you.”

  He leaned in for a kiss and she tilted her chin up and opened her mouth to him.

  She wished his hint that he might stay over stirred something more in her. The truth was, Chaz wasn’t a very exciting lover. He was practical and didn’t stray off course. He was...efficient.

  Charlie Singleton might make a girl wonder what he would do with his mouth, but this was Chaz. Chaz was kind. Honest. The kind of man you could be proud of. The kind of man you marry and want to father your children. He was successful and stable and . . .

  He put his thumb under her chin and slipped his tongue into her mouth, tasting of mineral water and juicy fruit, and Riley thought, He’s lower in cholesterol.

  She giggled against his lips.

  Chaz pulled away and frowned. “Something wrong?”

  She bit her lip, trying to stop the laughter bubbling there, but it just kept spilling out. “My mind is somewhere else.”

  “Well, then.”

  Crap, now he was scowling. She was pretty sure making her date scowl at the door was not the way to add the spice she was looking for.

  “Listen, I’m really sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” he said, but neither his tense shoulders nor his telling glance at his watch had her convinced.

  “No, it’s not. I’m sorry. Why don’t you come in?” She opened the door but was too embarrassed to take her eyes off the floor.

  Chaz cleared his throat. “Um, Riley?”

  “What?” She followed his gaze to the couch . . . where her new leather bustier was nicely displayed. “Oh, my God!” Her hand flew to her mouth. She had totally forgotten she’d left it there! What would Chaz think?

  Behind her, he made an umphing sound she wasn’t sure was good or bad. “Is that your roommate’s?” he asked. “Of course it is. Yo
u wouldn’t waste money on something so frivolous.”

  “Um.” She spun around to face him. She had to think fast—but he was looking at his watch.

  He smiled but it was forced. “Listen, I should go. I have an early meeting tomorrow. I’ll send you a text though, okay?”

  It was Riley’s turn to force a smile. “Right. Okay, that’d be nice.”

  Chaz pressed a light kiss to her cheek. “I’ll see you soon.”

  And as she walked him out, she couldn’t help but think I bet Charlie Singleton didn’t end a date with his girlfriend with a kiss against her cheek.

  Chapter Three

  Charlie studied the faces of the players around him. These were amateurs, cocky sons a’ bitches who thought they could plop down at a Vegas poker table and take home a load of crisp new bills. Charlie wasn’t interested in their money and carefully planned his strategy so he would win some, lose some, and walk away even-steven. He just needed some time with the game to stay loose for the tournament.

  Located in a VIP private box, their game overlooked the stage where the illustrious Black Diamond dancers performed. The guy across from him signaled for another beer, and Charlie rolled his eyes. Too much alcohol could destroy the game of even the most experienced player, and yet when guys like this one wanted to “act like a pro,” they drank too much and generally loosed up on all their good sense. Then again, people didn’t come to the Black Diamond to practice self-restraint.

  Charlie was lucky. Since he was fifteen, he’d had a talent for the game matched only by his passion for it. His and Lacey’s dad had never been around, but a neighbor in the subsidized housing where he grew up had taught Charlie everything he knew about the game. He’d taught him how to deal. How to bluff. How to use deductive thinking to get a pretty good guess at what the other players were holding. But most importantly, Walter had taught him how to have fun without losing everything.

  Charlie could still remember when Walter had first brought him into the casinos. Charlie had been fifteen—too young to cross the red ropes, but old enough to understand what Walter had been talking about when he spotted the hungry greed in people’s eyes. The message had gone through loud and clear, and Charlie had never gambled a penny he wouldn’t be happy to lose.