The Dating Dare (Gambling Men Book 2)

by Barbara Dunlop

  He looked cocky and confident.

  “I did,” I answered.

  The line moved again, and I moved with it.

  “I’m from O’Neil Nybecker. Just started a couple of weeks ago. Do you work there, too?”

  “I don’t. I work in the public library.”

  He gave a winning smile. “So you came with someone from the firm. Do I dare hope you’re here with a friend and not a lover?”

  I wanted to tell him it was none of his business. The question was almost rudely blunt.

  Then I told myself to chill. It might have been awkwardly phrased, but he was only trying to decide if I was attached. Probably so he didn’t make the same mistake I’d just made and have my date show up all of a sudden.

  Not that I’d been flirting with the guy in front of me. I was only making chitchat. Still, his “sweetheart” showing up like that had taken me by surprise.

  “A friend,” I said.

  The man held out his hand to shake. “Aaron Simms. I’m an economist.”

  I shook. “Nat Remington.”

  “Nat is short for Natalie?”

  “Natasha.”

  “Ohhhh.” He made a point of looking impressed. “A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

  “Are you here with a date?” I asked in return.

  If he was with a date, he probably shouldn’t be flirting with me.

  “I’m here on my own. It’s a corporate thing. I want to impress the brass.”

  “The brass cares about this kind of thing, do they?” I couldn’t help remembering that James said he never went to functions like this.

  Aaron leaned in and lowered his voice. “I’m showing enthusiasm for the firm. You want to get ahead, you play all the angles.”

  “And this is an angle?” I had to admit, I was intrigued.

  I’d never been one for office politics. Not that there were many politics in the public library. Then again, the last promotion I’d been in line for had unexpectedly gone to someone else. She was very socially astute, organizing outings and events for the staff.

  Maybe I should pay more attention.

  The line moved again, and I kept pace.

  “I’m young, eager, a good conversationalist and dancer. I know which fork to use, and I know how to get the O’Neil Nybecker name out there. Why do you think they donate to the hospital?”

  It seemed like a trick question. “To help sick people get well?”

  Aaron chuckled as if I was delightfully naive. “Corporate reputation, darlin’.”

  Darlin’? Seriously, darlin’?

  He kept talking. “They throw their money at prominent causes, especially those near and dear to the mayor’s heart. It makes them look like they care, softens the edges of their hard-nosed corporate focus. Did you see the mayor? He’s here with his wife. She’s a big supporter of the arts center. Guess which cause O’Neil Nybecker’s supporting next?”

  Okay, I could get this one. “The arts center?” I asked, half-sarcastically.

  “Now you’re catching on.”

  I grimaced.

  Luckily, the Schmidt couple were the only ones left in line in front of me. I’d be out of here soon.

  “What are you drinking?” Aaron asked.

  I truly did not want him to order my drink.

  “I haven’t decided yet.”

  “They do a great Sazerac.”

  “Oh.” I wasn’t sure what to say back.

  I wasn’t about to agree to his recommendation. I was having a hurricane. But I didn’t want to disclose that, either. I could be wrong, but I was guessing his plan was to order our drinks together and use it as an excuse to walk away with me.

  I didn’t want my hair, dress and shoes to work on this guy. No thanks.

  “There you are.” James arrived and looped his arm around my waist.

  I gave him a surprised look.

  My first impression of Aaron might not have been great, but James couldn’t know that.

  It surprised me that he was breaking up the conversation.

  “Hi, James,” I said, framing a what-are-you-doing? question with my expression.

  “Simms.” James nodded to Aaron.

  They knew each other. I guess that should have occurred to me. O’Neil Nybecker was a very big firm with a twenty-story office building, but I supposed there were meetings and a lunch room. People would pass each other in the halls.

  “Hi, James.” Aaron took in James’s arm at my waist. Then he looked back at me. “Friends?” he asked, looking a little bit annoyed.

  “Good friends,” James said.

  The Schmidts took their drinks and moved on.

  “What would you like?” James asked me.

  “A hurricane, please,” I said.

  “Coming up,” James said.

  * * *

  “Was it what you hoped for?” I asked James as we made our way through the hotel lobby at the end of the evening.

  “It was about what I expected.” He didn’t sound thrilled. “You?”

  “It was fun walking in.”

  After James had rescued me from Aaron, I’d mixed and mingled some more. I’d even danced a few times. But I hadn’t met anyone interesting. The law of large numbers seemed to have let me down tonight.

  James smiled as we approached the front door of the hotel. “You caused a bit of a ripple with your entrance.”

  I agreed that I’d attracted a bit of attention. But James was the one who had women craning their necks.

  “You caused a bigger ripple. Did those women approach you?”

  “A few did. They seemed nice.”

  “But nothing to write home about?” I asked.

  He pushed open the door for me. “Definitely nothing to write home about.”

  “Do you think we were doing something wrong? Or maybe my expectations were too high. I mean, we definitely look good and all.”

  “We look great,” he said.

  “Yeah, I think we do.” I couldn’t imagine any woman not falling all over James the way he looked tonight, that was for sure.

  I’d fall all over him myself if I thought there was any chance he’d reciprocate. And that wasn’t just the two hurricanes talking. He was hot.

  “We’ll have to try again,” he said.

  He looked both ways on the hotel driveway and signaled for our car.

  “Try the same thing?” I asked.

  “There’ll be different people at a different event. I don’t think we should abandon this approach just yet. O’Neil Nybecker is a sponsor of the arts-center fund-raiser coming up.”

  “Aaron mentioned that,” I said.

  James’s brow went up. “Oh?”

  “Uh-huh,” I said.

  There was a bit of an edge to James’s voice. “What else did he say?”

  “Is there something you don’t like about Aaron?”

  “There are a few things I don’t like about Aaron. What did he say to you?”

  I realized Aaron wasn’t the most appealing person in the world. “He said he attended events like this to impress the brass.”

  James gave a cool laugh as the car pulled up in front of us. “That sounds like Aaron.”

  “He seemed harmless enough,” I said. “A bit annoying maybe. A bit young.”

  James opened the back door. “A bit nakedly ambitious.”

  “Is ambitious bad?” I asked as I climbed into the car.

  Aaron had been clear about wanting to climb the corporate ladder. But lots of people wanted to get ahead.

  “Depends on how you do it.” James closed my door and went around to the other side.

  “How is Aaron doing it?” I asked while James got settled.

  I remembered I was thinking about my own lost promo
tion while Aaron had been talking about his approach to his career development.

  “Well, he’s got a big leg up, that’s for sure.”

  “Because he’s smart? Hardworking? Ambitious?”

  The car pulled smoothly away from the curb.

  “Because he’s a Simms.”

  “That’s a good thing?” I guessed.

  “His uncle is Horatio Simms, senior partner at O’Neil Nybecker. Word on the street is that it may soon become O’Neil Nybecker Simms.”

  “Ahhh,” I said. Ahhh was how I felt hearing that information.

  “Aaron is entitled and cavalier,” James said with a frown. “And last week he became my special problem.”

  That piqued my curiosity. “Why? What did he do?”

  “I’ve been asked to show him the ropes. He’s an intern.”

  “He didn’t tell me he was an intern.”

  Aaron hadn’t sounded at all like he was in a training position.

  “I’m not surprised,” James said. “But let’s stop talking about Aaron. I’ll worry about him Monday morning.”

  “One last question?” I asked.

  James frowned. “About Aaron?”

  “Let’s call it Aaron adjacent.”

  “All right. I’ll give you one more. But only since you look so gorgeous.”

  I tried not to smile, but I couldn’t help it. His teasing compliment made me feel good.

  I should stop letting James make me feel good. I should at least try to stop it.

  “He said the brass is impressed if you attend functions like this. But you said you never attend them. I wondered why not.”

  There was an edge to James’s voice when he spoke. “Maybe I don’t care about impressing the brass.”

  It was clear I’d asked the wrong question. But we’d pledged to be honest with each other. And I had to wonder if James’s instincts might not be leading him astray on this one. Women were definitely attracted to money and power, and moving up in a firm like O’Neil Nybecker would only increase James’s power and therefore his desirability to large numbers of women.

  We were going after large numbers here.

  “What would it hurt?” I pressed. “You went tonight. I mean, I know it wasn’t the success we’d hoped for, but it wasn’t exactly painful, either. Your bosses saw you there. If they liked it—”

  “I’m an economist, not a show pony.” His sharp response took me by surprise. “There are people who get ahead by playing games, and those who get ahead through solid, hard work. Maybe I don’t want to compromise.”

  His reaction threw me.

  “I thought that was the point of all this? I thought we were playing the image game. All we’re doing here is compromising.”

  “In our personal lives,” he said. “Not in our professional lives.”

  “I was thinking it might work for both. And maybe it only works if we do both. Maybe we need to change all the way through, not just on the surface, not just on the weekends or when we’re together playing dress up.”

  “You want us to compromise all the way through?”

  “I’m not saying we compromise our ethics or anything.” I wasn’t sure where I was going with this, but so far, it sounded okay. “I’m saying where’s the harm in being more exciting on all levels? Look at me.”

  He did.

  I gestured to the outfit. “I’m all dressed up. But I’m still librarian Nat Remington. I have her opinions. I have her hobbies. I have her attitude. I have her plain old name. Aaron said Natasha was a pretty name.”

  “Aaron again?”

  “Stop. Seriously. Don’t let Aaron mess with your mood. Natasha is a pretty name. But I went with Nat. Why did I go with Nat? Tasha is the better nickname. It’s gorgeous. It’s exotic. It’s the name of someone who leads a wild and glamorous life.”

  “So change it,” James said.

  “I might.”

  “You should.”

  “I will.” I felt empowered just making the pledge.

  “Good.”

  “You change yours, too.”

  He gave me a look of skepticism. “How can you change James?”

  “Jamie. You can be Jamie.”

  “I don’t—”

  I reached out and touched his arm. “You promised to trust my judgment. You need a new name, something less uptight than James.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay.”

  “Really?” I couldn’t help but feel excited.

  “Yes, really. So, tell me, what are Jamie and Tasha going to do next?”

  Six

  We decided on a popular dance club.

  James picked out my dress again, but this time I paid for it.

  I kind of loved it. It was a shimmery gold-and-black geometric pattern, sleeveless, with a scoop neck. Tight to the waist, it had a gold metal belt over a pleated skirt. The soft skirt hung to my midthigh and swirled when I danced.

  The following Friday, I left my hair down and found some dangling gold earrings that looked flashy enough for the occasion.

  James argued for gold sandals, but we settled on black cutout ankle boots with tapered heels. They were easier to wear, but still had a funky, avant-garde appeal. I never would have considered them before now.

  We stood in line for half an hour. The club was loud and crowded, with lots of techno music, flashing laser lights and haze from a fog machine behind the DJ.

  It wasn’t to my taste, but I danced a lot. I couldn’t talk to any of my partners, so I had no idea if I liked them or not. Mostly, they grinned at me while we danced, then they bid me a silent adieu with a wave of their hand before moving on to another partner.

  Finally, James touched my arm and pointed to the exit.

  My ears were throbbing, the music following us outside as we found our way into the fresh air. It was misty, and a skiff of wet from some earlier rain made the black pavement shine under the lights.

  He asked me a question, but I couldn’t hear.

  “What?” I asked in what I hoped was a loud voice. I couldn’t hear myself very well, either.

  He leaned into my ear. “What did you think?”

  I gave him a shrug while we passed the lineup of more people crowding the sidewalk, waiting to go inside.

  Some of the outfits made mine look tame.

  “Not my thing,” he said.

  “Mine, either,” I admitted, although it had been my suggestion.

  We made our way down the block to the brighter lights of First Avenue.

  “Let’s scratch it off the list,” he said.

  “Consider it scratched.”

  My feet hurt, but I liked walking.

  “Hungry?” he asked.

  “Starving.” I was.

  He pointed to a brick café with big awnings and glowing lights. “Try that?”

  “Yes, please.”

  The sooner I sat down, the happier I’d be.

  A hostess showed us to a booth beside the window. It looked out on a patio that was empty now since rain was beginning to sprinkle down again.

  “This is nice,” I said, settling into the cushy seat and opening a big menu on the table in front of me.

  James did the same. “So, did Tasha meet anyone?”

  I grinned as I read my way through the burger selection, thinking a chocolate milkshake sounded awesome. “Tasha met a whole bunch of people.”

  “Did she like any of them?”

  I glanced up to see his gaze on me.

  “She couldn’t tell. I didn’t have a single conversation. What about Jamie? Anyone interesting for you?”

  He shook his head. “Same thing. Lots of inanely grinning maniac dancers.”

  “Is Jamie being judgmental?”

&nbs
p; “Jamie is being realistic. Dance clubs are so scratched off our list.”

  “I do like the outfit,” I said, making a point of taking in his distressed jeans, white-and-gold foil-patterned T-shirt and short leather jacket.

  “Never going to wear this shirt again,” he said. “What are you having?”

  “Maybe you could do yard work or paint in it or something.”

  “You’re too practical for your own good.”

  “If you don’t want it, I’ll take it.”

  “You think it’s girlie?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “It’ll be way too big for you.”

  “I can sleep in it.” As the words left my mouth, our gazes met.

  They meshed and melded and the air seemed to sizzle between us.

  I didn’t think I was imagining it.

  “What can I get for you?” a waitress asked, stopping beside the table.

  James broke the look.

  He moved his attention to the menu. “I’ll take a bacon mushroom burger with fries.”

  “Anything to drink?”

  “Cola,” he said.

  I willed my heart rate to slow down.

  I wished my skin didn’t prickle. I knew I had goose bumps, and I knew exactly why. There was no point in even pretending I didn’t have a crush on James... Jamie. It was Jamie now, and he was hot.

  “And for you?” the waitress asked.

  “Cheeseburger,” I said. “With fries and a chocolate shake.” I definitely needed the shake to cool me down. And drowning my arousal in delicious calories seemed like a really great idea right now.

  “A shake sounds good,” Jamie said. “Can I switch?”

  “Certainly,” the woman said. “Coming right up.”

  “Thanks,” Jamie said, handing her his menu.

  I did the same.

  “We have to come up with something else,” I said before we could take the conversation back to me sleeping in his shirt. Even though I was staring at the shirt, thinking of how it would feel skimming over my skin and how Jamie would look without it.

  Whoa.

  “Something else?” he asked.

  “Another exciting activity for Jamie and Tasha.” I forced a light note into my voice. “Exactly how brave are we? Are we going bungee jumping or skydiving?”