by I. T. Lucas
Brian was handsome, with exotic features contributed by his half Chinese and half German mother, and his half Portuguese and half Korean father. But Turner had a feeling that Brian's success was more about his style and technique than his magnetic sexual appeal.
Which was fortunate. Provided the guy was willing to teach, Turner could learn.
On his way out, he stopped by his secretary's desk. "I'll be back in about an hour. Anything you need from me before I go?"
Alice shook her head. "Have a nice lunch, boss."
"You too." He glanced at the wrapped sandwich and thermos Alice had brought from home. Putting her two sons through college was a financial burden the military widow was shouldering alone, and it wasn't easy even though Turner paid her well—significantly more than the norm for the type of work she did. It wasn't philanthropy. Her loyalty and his trust in her were not something one could put a price tag on. She was worth every penny and more.
Most of his staff was comprised of freelancers like Brian, but other than the media specialist and Charlotte the hacker, Turner didn't trust the rest with the location of his offices.
Not today, though. They were meeting at Brian's favorite restaurant for lunch. A more fitting environment for what Turner wanted to talk about.
As was his habit, Brian arrived a few minutes late. Not late enough to be considered rude, but not so early as to appear eager. Turner had no doubt everything the guy did was intentional.
"How are you doing, boss?" Brian offered his hand.
Turner shook it. "Very well, and you?"
"Life is good," the guy answered while scoping the place for potential prey.
Turner chuckled. "Always on the prowl, aren't you?"
Brian sat down and opened the menu. "Naturally. If I don't cast the net, how am I going to attract the best catch?"
It was a wonder the analyst managed to get any work done. It seemed as if his entire focus was dedicated to the hunt, or fishing, as he referred to the chase.
"I need you to teach me how you do it."
Brian put the menu down. "Do what?"
"Charm the pants off women."
"A particular woman or women in general?"
"Is there a difference?"
The guy's smirk was condescending. "It's like saying that every operation you plan is exactly like the other. There are similarities, of course, but you would be a fool to employ the same tactics without taking into account the particular situation. Same with women. Each one is a unique individual and requires a custom-tailored approach."
It made sense, but the complexity of the subject was discouraging. "How would I know what works for whom?"
"First, you need to decide on your objective. Do you want to get her in your bed? Or do you want more?"
Brian was a smart guy, translating the complicated subject of relationships into terms Turner was familiar with.
"I need her to fall in love with me, or at least to care deeply."
"How soon do you need to achieve that objective?"
"Two weeks or less."
The guy nodded. "Tough, but not impossible. How old is she?"
"In her mid to late thirties." Bridget was probably much older, but the age range he'd given Brian was a decent approximation of her level of maturity.
"On a scale of one to ten, how hot is she?"
"Ten."
Brian sighed in exasperation. "Let me be more specific. It doesn't matter if she is a ten to you. It matters what the rest of the male population would rate her as. That determines the level of your competition. Women who are rated ten have so many men chasing after them that they develop a bitchy attitude as a shield against all that unwanted attention. Getting past their immediate prejudgment is difficult. Two weeks would not do for a woman like that. It requires a long and sophisticated approach."
"How should I know what other men think?"
Brian looked like he was losing his patience but trying very hard not to show it. "Okay. Is she more like Jessica Alba or Gal Gadot?"
"Jessica Alba."
"Is she more like Scarlet Johansson or Megan Fox?"
"I don't know who Megan Fox is, but the lady in question looks a little like Scarlet Johansson. She is short, curvy, has flaming red hair and blue, intelligent eyes."
Brian nodded. "Good, so she is not the tall, thin, model type everyone and his dog chases. What about her level of education?"
"She is a medical doctor."
That answer seemed to excite Brian the most. "Very good. You have a much better chance with an intelligent woman. If you dazzle her with your smarts, she might overlook your lack of charm."
That was true. Bridget seemed most interested in what he had to say, but he'd also caught her checking out his body. Her interest wasn't platonic.
"So what is your advice, master Casanova?"
Brian chuckled. "First, we start with your wardrobe, your cologne, and the like. Normally I would suggest a professional hairstylist, or in your case an expert toupee maker, but I assume she already saw you. Right?"
Turner nodded.
"Not a big deal. It looks good on you. Besides, many women find bald men sexy."
Turner smoothed his hand over his bald head. "That's good to hear. But what's wrong with my wardrobe? And why would a mature, well-educated woman care about what I wear?"
The analyst shook his head. "Turner, my man, you might be a brilliant strategist, but you know nothing about female psychology."
"Tell me about it. I made the mistake of reading a romance novel in hopes of gaining a better understanding of what women want. It was such an unrealistic load of crap."
The condescending smirk was back. "Naturally. Romance novels are fantasies—exciting, titillating, arousing. Most women know that and don't expect or want to reenact any of it in real life. I love to read about dangerous, alluring women like spies and assassins, but if I met one today, I would probably walk away as fast as I could."
Again, the guy was making sense. Brian had a good understanding of human nature which Turner lacked. More specifically female nature. Turner had a good grasp on the military and criminal types, but not on much more than that.
"Back to my wardrobe. What do you think I should change?"
Brian looked at Turner's jacket with obvious distaste. "Where did you get that thing?"
"At the Men's Warehouse."
"Obviously." The guy grimaced. "I'll take you clothes shopping at Neiman Marcus. You need clothes that are classy, understated, elegant, and most importantly expensive. Same for the cologne."
"I don't think a doctor would be impressed with how much my jacket costs."
"No, she won't. But men are judged mainly by how successful they are. Expensive, tasteful clothing advertises your success without flaunting it. You want the equivalent of a Mercedes or a Tesla, but not a Ferrari or a Porsche. What you're wearing now is the equivalent of a Honda minivan."
"I get it. Are you free this afternoon? I'm not expecting you to do any of this out of the goodness of your heart. I will gladly pay for your services, but I need it done fast. I'm meeting her tomorrow. "
The analyst smiled. "Brian's university is going to cost you, but I don't want money. An IOU for a future favor would do."
"I need you to define it. I'm not giving blind IOUs."
"I didn't expect you to. I want your promise that if ever I or any of my family members needs rescuing you'll do it."
A rescue operation, even a simple one, was costly, took a lot of time and effort to plan, and often put the lives of others at risk. It was a high price to demand for the services Brian was providing him with. On the other hand, Turner wouldn't have refused help even if he didn't owe the guy anything. He would have probably asked for a future IOU same as the analyst had.
"It's a deal."
They shook on it.
"Between now and tomorrow, there is a lot I need to teach you. I'll better start now."
"I thought you did."
"That was just a
bout the props. From now until we part this evening, we will pretend that I'm your date." Brian batted his long eyelashes and reached for Turner's hand with a coy smile lifting his thick lips.
Turner snapped his hand back and took a nervous glance around. "Are you nuts? People will think we are a couple."
"Tsk, tsk. That's the idea. We are in Los Angeles, boss, we can be a couple if we want to." Putting his hand on the table, palm up, Brian batted his eyelashes again. "Holding hands is a sign of affection, my friend."
Chapter 11: Robert
Robert was looking forward to another card game and a chance to spend a little time with Sharon. He liked talking to her, or rather listening since she had no problem with him saying little or nothing at all.
He was so sick of the female attention at the keep. All they wanted was to experience sex with an immortal male, treating him like the resident gigolo.
It didn't matter to them that he wasn't much of a conversationalist, or that he was far from exciting in bed. Evidently, his stamina and his fangs compensated for his other shortcomings.
In the beginning, Robert had enjoyed the attention and the generous supply of bed partners, especially since it had made Carol jealous, but now he just felt used.
The irony wasn't lost on him. After a lifetime of having to pay for sex, he shouldn't complain about getting plenty for free. Maybe it was justice meted out by the Fates the clan believed in. He got to experience what those women he used to pay for had, just without the pay.
"You're quiet today," Amanda said as she got off the freeway.
"I'm always quiet."
"True. But without Anandur here, it's even more quiet than usual."
"Who else is coming tonight?" Robert asked.
"Two immortal females. We need to find someone for Nick."
Great. Hopefully, the two females didn't live in the keep, and he hadn't taken either of them to bed. The last thing he wanted was for Sharon to hear them making comments about him or throwing suggestive hints around.
He scratched his head. "What makes you think I'm the one for Sharon?"
Amanda cast him a sidelong glance. "You tell me. How do you feel about her?"
He shrugged. "I like her."
"You remind me of Kian." Amanda chuckled. "When I asked him what he thought about Syssi, he said the same thing." She mimicked her brother's voice as she repeated the words. "He is not much of a talker either, and Syssi is still madly in love with him. To each her own."
That wasn't going to happen to him. No female would ever feel so passionately about him. He just didn't inspire that kind of emotion.
"What are you thinking about, Robert? Suddenly you look glum."
"I'm not the kind of guy who women fall in love with."
She reached over and patted his shoulder. "You are wrong. As I said, there is a lid for every pot."
He was still thinking about that old adage as they entered Eva and Bhathian's house. Was it possible for someone to fall in love with him?
"Robert!" Sharon came out of the kitchen and practically ran to him. "I'm so glad you came."
Robert didn't know how to respond to that. Should he say he was glad too?
She lifted on her tiptoes, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed his cheek. "You forgot to ask for my phone number," she whispered in his ear, unaware that every immortal in the room could hear her.
Robert felt his ears heat up. He hadn't forgotten, he'd never thought to do so in the first place, but to admit it would embarrass Sharon. "Yes, I did. I'm sorry."
"No worries. Give me your phone, and I'll program my number into it."
Damn. He didn't have a cell phone. One more limitation imposed by his unclear status in the clan.
"He lost it." Amanda came to his rescue. "That's why he didn't take your number." She waved a dismissive hand and rolled her eyes. "You know how men are. Too prideful to admit things like that. It had been crazy at work the past week, and Robert couldn't spare the time to get a new one. But you can give it to me."
Sharon frowned. "Do you work in the same department?"
"No, darling. But my brother is Robert's and Bhathian's boss."
"Oh." That seemed to mollify her.
Amanda pulled out her phone. "Ready when you are."
If Sharon wondered why Amanda hadn't just handed her the phone, she didn't show it. Instead, she recited the numbers.
Amanda dropped the phone back into her large purse. "I'll make sure he calls."
To what end? Invite Sharon over to his place? Take her out on a date? He could do none of that. Amanda was making a mess of things.
Sharon took his hand and led him to the card table. "Ready to lose all your pennies again?"
He was going to lose more than that, like his sanity. "Do I have a choice?"
"Of course you do, silly. You can try to win." She pointed to her head. "It's all in the mindset. If you convince yourself you'll win, chances are you will. And the reverse is true as well."
If that was true, he was going to fail. But he wasn't going to say it and make himself look like a loser.
"If you say so."
There were only a few things Robert knew how to do well, and playing poker wasn't one of them. Neither was socializing.
"I know so."
By the little smirk on Amanda's face, she'd been listening to every word. "You're absolutely right, Sharon. It's all about the mindset. But sometimes it takes the right woman to affect a man's outlook. We are the catalyst for change. If not for us, men would still be living in caves and hunting with spears."
Nick snickered. "Don't you know it, Robert? Pussy rules the world."
Bhathian slapped the back of Nick's head. "Watch your mouth, kid."
"What? Just because Eva is expecting, everyone needs to act holier than thou?"
That earned the guy another slap. "No, it's because you should talk respectfully to ladies. No wonder you can't get a date."
Nick’s face reddened. "Says who? I get plenty of dates. Babes love me."
Bhathian sighed. "You're a lost cause. Just do me a favor and try to act like a gentleman when my other coworkers get here. They are both nice girls, and they are not going to appreciate being called babes, or compared to small felines."
Nick rolled his eyes. "I can't believe that. What century are you people living in? No one thinks anything is wrong with those words. Girls love being called babes. It means they are hot."
"I don't," Sharon said. "I don't like being called honey or sweetheart either. No one other than a boyfriend, who actually means those as terms of endearment, is allowed to talk to me like that."
"Good for you," Eva said. "Women should set the standards. If we leave it up to men, they will end up in the gutter."
Nick cast Bhathian an evil glare. "You see what you have done? Now we are the bad guys."
Sharon giggled. "Robert is the smartest man here. He keeps his mouth shut and stays out of trouble."
Everyone's eyes turned to Robert.
He shifted in his chair. "I have nothing to say on the subject."
Sharon took his hand and squeezed. "You see? That's my smart man."
Her man?
Had Sharon just called him hers?
Robert glanced at Amanda, hoping she would come to his rescue like she'd done before.
But the woman only smiled and shrugged.
He was on his own.
Chapter 12: Sharon
Sharon held on to Robert's clammy hand even though it was obvious he wanted it back. Until everyone was ready to start playing, she wasn't letting go.
It wasn't like her to assert her will like this. Well, that wasn't entirely true. She had a tendency to take charge, but until Robert, she had never gone that far. Heck, she was practically roping the guy and hogtying him.
But he left her no choice. For some reason, this yummy hunk of a man was insecure, which made him a rare find. He wasn't dumb either, and he was a hard worker—she'd grilled Bhathian about him, and he'd co
nfirmed that Robert was a very dedicated employee.
In short, he was her kind of guy, and a small detail like him dragging his feet because he was shy was not going to stop her from claiming him as hers.
He'd get used to the idea.
Poor guy. When Robert had agreed to come play poker at Eva and Bhathian's house, he'd probably had no clue about what was really going on, but Sharon knew what these two were up to. They were playing matchmaker for her and Nick, bringing over single young guys and girls from Bhathian's work under the guise of friendly poker games.
It would have been sweet if not for the motive behind it, which was to get rid of them. Eva and Bhathian were expecting a baby and planning on getting married soon. They didn't need her and Nick hanging around. But Eva, being Eva, wanted to make sure they weren't alone when the time came, and that they left of their own free will.
It had worked with Tessa, though that one had not been premeditated. No one had expected an eighteen-year-old boy to get so serious about the girl. But the guy was for real, and Tessa was happy for the first time in her life.
Kudos to Bhathian and Eva for introducing those two.
The unexpected success of that match must've gone to their heads, and they'd decided it was Nick's and her turn. The poker night's purpose was to force-feed them potential boyfriend and girlfriend material.
At first, Sharon had been peeved about the meddling. But then they'd brought Robert around. It had probably been Amanda's idea. The woman had excellent taste. She recognized Robert's untapped potential and dragged him over. A lousy poker player like him for sure hadn't volunteered to come play.
"I'm done," Robert said, as his pile of pennies dwindled down to four coins. "I'm no good at this."
Sharon patted his thigh. "You need tutoring."
Was he going to take the bait or pretend he didn't get it?
"Are you offering?"
Hallelujah. The guy wasn't completely devoid of flirting instincts.
"It would be my pleasure." She dropped her cards face down on the table even though she had a winning hand. The not-so-subtle game she was playing was more important than the one taking place around the table.