by Tilly Pope
“So what are your plans for this evening?” I ask.
She changes gears quickly. “You don’t have any more questions for me?” she asks, glancing at the tablet she’d just drawn on.
“Just this one.” The wheels in my head are turning and I’m done talking work for now. It’s all part of the process.
“My plans suck,” she says with a chuckle. But it’s a bit flat, like she’s not feeling the humor she’s trying to convey “I’m going to grab some fast food, go home and watch Netflix.”
I don’t want to admit I’ve had more than my fair share of those nights. “Have you seen any of the sights, yet? The Strip?” I ask, remembering her comment from earlier about being bored and working.
She shakes her head. “I’m not much of a gambler.”
“Let me take you out and show you a night on the town.” I smile at her. “I’ll make sure you eat something better than fast food, too.”
Shadows dance behind her eyes. But she blinks and they’re gone; leaving me curious about her. “That’s really sweet of you, but no thank you.”
“Maybe some other time.” I don’t pose it as a question and the pulse at the base of her throat speeds up as excitement flashes in her eyes.
“Maybe. It was a pleasure, Mr. Hanson. We’ll talk again soon.” With that, she’s off for the door like a shot, leaving me wondering what the fuck just happened.
She’s fucking beautiful. She’s sexy and nerdy as hell and makes my whole body respond even as she challenges my way of thinking.
And she’s not fucking interested in me.
How cool is that?
3
Vicki
I put the bag of my favorite Tiki Burger on the counter and turn on the light, then I hop over to my nearly bare bedroom, pulling my heels off as I go. It’s been a day. And Mr. Hanson? Hot as fuck.
I slide out of my work clothes and pull on a long t-shirt. My new boss seems like a nice guy, but he’s so freakin’ handsome I’m almost afraid to talk to him. What if I actually drool? When he shook my hand, my heart rocketed into my throat and started beating like Aunt Bea’s screen door in a storm.
After that, I wanted to touch him again, and the whole time we were talking it was all I could do to not casually put a hand on him.
I’m such a creep. Maybe I need to get laid. No more fantasizing about my new boss. I’m going to lose myself in some stupid show and eat this big fat Tiki Delight.
Who knew bacon and pineapples were a thing?
Grabbing the fast food bag, I open my burger and take a bite. “Ahhh shit! Oh my God! Oh my God! This shit is so hot!” I jump up off the couch and run to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water and wash the offending spicy burger down. Shit, there’s been some mistake. This isn’t what I ordered. Not at all. I look at the receipt and it says Bacon Habanero Honey. That’s the spiciest burger they make over at Tiki Burger and not my Tiki Delight.
Shit. My heart sinks. I’d had my heart set on my favorite burger and that’s not what I got.
I could get up, put my clothes back on and go back. I could ask them to fix it and risk them spitting in my food, or…
No way was I risking that. I open up the pantry, knowing I don’t have much. There’s got to be something.
Peanut butter and crackers. No, not a chance. I’m starving.
I guess I should have gone to the grocery store. I make a mental note to shop before the weekend is over.
Fuck that. I’m going to take Michael’s advice and go out for a nice dinner. I’ll take in some sights and pretend I’m a normal human being for a few hours. It’ll be fun, right? With a triumphant smile on my face, I rush to my room and get dressed.
In my favorite floral blue summer dress and a little bit of makeup, I feel pretty. I’ve picked a trendy place at the Tryst Mega Resort with purpose. After all, that’s where the club I’ll be working on with Michael and his team will be built. So I’d like to see the before experience.
My Uber shows up and the driver is silent the whole way. Which is just fine with me. When he drops me off, I tip him in cash and slip inside with the crowd. I’m shown my seat and I sit down and scan the room while waiting for someone to come take my order.
And I see him.
My boss.
He’s here…with another woman.
My heart sinks and I lower my chin toward my chest. After a moment, I peek at him out of the corner of my eye. He hasn’t seen me, so I study him. He’s sitting, staring straight ahead while the woman at his side seems to scold him.
He looks desperately unhappy and my heart breaks in my chest for him. Is she his girlfriend?
She leans into him and practically cackles in his face. His whole body tenses up at whatever she’s saying and I know in my heart that she’s not the right woman for him. He’s not happy. I can see it in the set of his shoulders, the shadows in his eyes, the downward turn at the corners of his lips. He’s miserable because of her.
The waiter steps between me and Michael and I blink up at him. “What would you like to drink?”
Drink. Right. “Do you have iced tea?” I ask. I love sweet tea, but I’m not sure Vegas would have the kind we drink in Oklahoma. I’ll try it, though.
“We do.” He keys it into his tablet. “Do you know what you’d like to eat?” he asks, eyeing me over the tablet.
“Surprise me.” I say, my stomach growling.
His eyes widen a bit, but a smile crosses his handsome lips. I secretly hope he doesn’t think I’m hitting on him; I just have no idea what I want. Everything looks and smells so good I’ll be happy regardless of what lands in front of me.
“Any allergies?” he asks, his blue eyes locking on mine.
I shake my head. Damn, he’s cute.
“I know just the thing.” He nods and heads off.
I sigh in relief even as my eyes seek out Michael. He still looks miserable as he sips his drink while the woman sits beside him, obviously having given up on whatever she’d been going on about.
I glance away, thankful he hasn’t noticed me yet. Using my phone, I scroll the news, regret that decision, and switch over to the book I’m currently reading. I lose myself in a story while waiting for my food, but I try to stay aware of what’s going on around me as the man in the story growls at the woman that she’s his. A shiver rolls up my spine. I want a hot guy to growl You’re mine at me.
“Here you go.” The waiter stops by my table and drops off my tea and a plate.
“Thank you,” I say with a sweet smile. He’s gone in an instant – thankfully – and I inhale the scent of food. The beautiful prawns and Alfredo-looking dish smell fantastic. Butter, garlic and heaven.
I take a bite and do a little happy dance in my seat, my gaze wandering back to Michael. He and the woman are talking now. Their conversation is animated, but he still has that disappointed set in his shoulders.
I take a drink of my tea, wince at the bitter flavor, and dump a bunch of sugar in it. Stirring it up with my spoon, I take another sip. Better. While I devour my food, I watch him, glad he doesn’t notice me. I’m not surprised; this woman clearly demands all his attention. She looks like the type to demand everything.
I can’t help but wonder what they’re arguing about. They’re being quiet; no one is staring at them. They’re not getting weird looks from the surrounding tables. I work on my dinner, wondering what it would be like to be with Michael. Is he a good conversationalist? Is he adventurous? I already know he’s curious and intelligent, how does that translate into a relationship? Is he demanding in bed?
The last internal question almost makes me choke on a piece of shrimp. Which seems impossible because they almost melt in my mouth. The flavor of garlic on the seared outside is delicious and I take another bite as my cheeks heat up.
When I finally drag the last bite of pasta through the buttery sauce and pop it into my mouth, I let out a sigh of relief.
“Did I guess right?” The waiter seems to materialize in front o
f me and I jolt.
I smile up at him. “You did. Thank you – everything was fantastic.”
“Must have been, you finished in record time.” His smile erases the insult in his words and I lift my shoulders.
“I was hungry.” Might as well be honest.
“Would you like more tea?” His grin makes his eyes dance. I’d imagine him to be about my age and very good looking, but even while he’s standing here talking to me and possibly flirting, I find my thoughts wandering back to Michael.
Michael…who’s here with another woman.
“No thank you,” I say.
He seems disappointed. “I’ll bring you your check then.”
“Thank you.” I finish my drink as he walks off. I stare at Michael for a second and then look away. I need to stop being silly. Not only is he my boss, he’s obviously with someone. I need to stop lusting after men that clearly aren’t available. It’ll only backfire.
The waiter places the check before me and walks off with a smile. I pick it up and pull out cash. I pay the bill and leave a generous tip before noticing he’d written his number on the copy I’m supposed to keep.
I leave both copies and pick up my purse and head to the ladies’ room. While I’m in there, I hear a voice that’s high-pitched and nasally and know instinctively she’s the woman he’s with before I even see her.
“I can talk him out of it,” she says out loud into the phone crooked in her neck as she leans into the mirror and fixes the corner of her lipstick. She’s beautiful and seems to know exactly how to use makeup to downplay her flaws and play up her strong points. It’s a skill I never learned.
I wash my hands, refusing to make eye contact with her while she continues talking on the phone. “He’s refusing to sell it off but give me time.” She dabs a tissue under her eye and looks at me. I quickly dry my hands as she continues, “Sure, it’s spur of the moment, but he’s such a tight ass. He’s fucking old and his stupid designs suck.”
Oh, she’s a merchant? Not his girlfriend? Yay! I hurriedly leave the bathroom and make a beeline to his table. Michael glances up, a stunned look in his eyes as if I’m the last person he expected to see. Before he can say anything, I speak up. “Sorry to interrupt your dinner,” I hiss, “but I have to tell you the lady you had dinner with? She’s trashing you and our designs in the restroom.”
“Excuse me?” His eyes narrow.
“That lady. If you’re doing business with her, you should stop. She’s trying to take you down. She’s on the phone right now in the ladies' room talking trash about the company.” I don’t want to repeat the awful things she said; there is no need. “Have a good night.” With that, I sashay off and make my way to the casino bar.
What should I order?
“Do y’all have anything that tastes like sweet tea?” I ask the bartender.
4
Michael
Camille marches back to the table, her chin held high and her lips freshly painted. I can’t believe this bitch. I’ve been working with her for years. I’d heard some rumors about a new company she’s working with, but she came to me just like she always had. Bright, beautiful and ready to make a deal. And she can get around some of the city’s bullshit. I have no idea why she’d be badmouthing me on the phone.
She sits down and I glare at her.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Her lip curls.
“What the fuck are you doing? Should I be thanking you for trashing me in the ladies’ room?” The quiet anger in my voice is unmistakable and she hesitates for a second.
Camille opens her mouth to speak and then closes it. She lets out a long breath and asks, “Since when do you care what people say about you?” Flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder, her big brown eyes lock on me and she gives a wicked smile that I don’t like. “Besides, all you have to do is keep me happy and we’ll keep you and your business happy. You know the game.” Her hand pats my thigh under the table.
“Get your damn hand off me. And I’m finished.”
Her mouth drops open. “I don’t know why you’re being such a dick.”
I chuckle. Yep, I’m the dick. I wonder who she was talking to.
“Why are you laughing?” She glares at me before draining the rest of her drink. “I don’t have to put up with this shit, you know. I’m leaving.” With that she grabs her purse and storms off.
I get up, pay for our meals and head out in search of Vicki.
I find her pretty quickly in the casino bar trying to put money into a bar top slot machine.
She sees me and waves before lifting her drink. “Mr. Hanson! Have you ever had a Long Island Iced Tea?” She takes a deep drink. “They’re freaking amazing!” Her huge grin makes me wonder if she knows just how much alcohol there is in a Long Island Iced Tea and if she’s aware how smashed she is.
“I don’t drink much,” she confides in a whisper-shout and giggles. “I also don’t date much.” She sobers up for a second before her eyes stick to me. I sit beside her and order a whisky sour. Because why the fuck not?
“Let’s drown our sorrows together,” I say as the bartender gives me my drink. I lift my glass and touch the rim to hers.
“Was she your girlfriend or something?” she asks, her eyes widening. “I didn’t mean to fuck anything up.”
“No, just an associate of mine. Don’t worry about that. I want to know more about you.” I take a drink of my whiskey and study her beautiful face.
“Oh, that. Well, whaddya wanna know? I’m smart. I live alone, and I need another drink.” She holds up her glass and glances at the bartender. He nods.
“I don’t really drink.” She gives me a shy smile that’s so appealing I want to kiss her right here and claim her as my own. “But I really like these.” She sucks the last bit of liquid through her straw and sets the glass down.
The bartender gives her another and she takes a deep drink before glancing at me and talking. “So I focused on school. I wanted to build things, design things, I wanted to have to think.” She taps her temple with a finger and takes another drink. “So it all just kind of fell into place for me.” Her expression falls. “Before you, though, I couldn’t get a job. I had a few offers, but they didn’t work out.”
I nodded. That wasn’t uncommon. It was pretty well known that if a man and woman applied for the same job in this field that the man was more likely to be hired even if the woman was better qualified. I’d even had qualms hiring a woman because I knew my all-male crew might make off color jokes and it felt like an HR nightmare waiting to happen. Of course, I’d quickly realized this wouldn’t be an issue because my guys are also smart; they know to check the crowd and not be assholes.
“So ever since I graduated my parents have been paying my student loans and everything to help keep my head above water.” Her shoulders droop like she’s ashamed. “I want to do it myself, but how can I if no one gives me a chance?” Her wide eyes lift to meet mine and my heart tugs.
“I mean, I dedicated my life to work. I don’t even have friends because I was the girl that had to study. And forget about a sex life.” She drains her drink. This time the bartender glances at me when she asks for more and I nod. I’ll be responsible for her.
He makes her another and she gets into it the second he sets it down, her incredible eyes focused on flashing lights in the distance. “I seriously haven’t even had sex. Unless you count Bobby DeAngelo feeling me up in eighth grade after telling me he was coming over to study.”
She laughs at herself. “I fell for that one. Turns out he had something else in mind when I said cram session.” Her easy laughter and the words flowing over her lips made my cock rock hard.
Was she admitting to being a virgin? And having a sense of humor about it all? Fucking hell, this woman was getting under my skin.
“And in college it was the same thing. Study, study, study. No time for friends, fun, or guys.” Her expression turns sad. “I’m pathetic.”
I shake m
y head and she focuses on me. “Not pathetic. Driven. Willing to sacrifice for what’s important to you.” I admire the hell out of her and want to tell her that without coming out and telling her that.
“I like that.” She finishes her tea and asks for another. “Thank you. I’m sorry I made you and your associate get into it.”
“I’m not.”
She went still and studied me.
“I’m not sorry at all.” I say as the bartender gives her another drink. She downs half of it in one long pull. “I’d rather know someone is talking poorly about me or my business behind my back than to think everything is fine.” I knew it wasn’t fine, but that wasn’t important. “If anything, I think I owe you a big thank you for bringing it to my attention.”
Her eyes widen and she continues to sip her drink.
“So thank you for telling me.”
She nods. “You’re welcome. I think. I still feel bad. And I think I’m drunk.” She giggles. “I shouldn’t have told you everything I told you. You’re my boss. You’re going to fire me aren’t you?”
I glance at my watch, then up at her. “Well, it looks like you’re off the clock. So unless you’re doing something criminal, I think you’re fine.”
She breathes a huge sigh of relief. “Thank you. I’m just so wound up from all the stress. It’s nice to finally say those things and get them out. I don’t have any friends here yet to talk to, so…”
“Feel free to talk to me anytime.” It wasn’t right that she had no one.
“Thank you.” She finishes her drink and goes to stand. I see the alcohol hit her and leap out of my seat as she sways.
I catch her in my arms before she can fall and she looks up at me, a smile tugging the corners of her lips.
“Yep, I’m drunk,” she says with a giggle.
“I’ll make sure you get home safe,” I whisper, scooping her up in my arms. With that, I carry her outside and hail my limo driver. I open the door and slide her into the backseat. I ask her if she knows where home is. She rattles off an address and I breathe a sigh of relief.
