by Claire Adams
“The girl you like still isn't putting out for you?” I surmised. I could tell from his grimace that she wasn't. “Come on, get a suit,” I urged. “You can take her out someplace nice at some point, and I'm sure she'll be all over you after that. We all know women love a sharp-dressed man.”
Mark laughed. “I could never afford to take her someplace nice like that,” he said.
I snorted. “Are you asking for a raise?”
“Maybe,” Mark said cheekily, winking at me.
I rolled my eyes but made a mental note of it. It wasn't like I couldn't afford to give him a little extra money, and he was a good driver.
When I got to the restaurant that night, Gretchen was already there and seated. I grinned a little, remembering what Mark had said about her being independent and probably stubborn. I'd probably expect most girls to still be hovering by the door, waiting for me to show up. But not this one.
And I kind of liked that.
I slid into the seat across from her, grinning. “You're looking lovely this evening,” I told her, even though I'd only given her dress a cursory glance.
It was enough to get her blushing, though, and shyly ducking her head. “Thanks,” she said, her eyes lingering on my suit. “You look pretty handsome, yourself.”
I grinned. “Yeah, I figured I'd get a new suit for the occasion. Tailored just this afternoon. Cost a little bit of extra money to get the thing done on such short notice, but I figured you were probably worth it.”
Gretchen grimaced a little. “Honestly, I don't know what to say in response to that.”
I shrugged a little and flipped open the menu. “Have you ever been here before?” I asked. “My driver recommended it.”
“I usually go out to places that are a bit more relaxed than this,” Gretchen said, looking around. She gave a little nervous laugh. “Don't get me wrong, it's kind of thrilling to be here and all dressed up and everything, but this is just…wow.”
Good, she's impressed with it.
I wasn't sure why that mattered so much.
“Pick anything you want,” I said, waving toward her menu. “Don't worry. I'm paying.”
“Um, thanks,” Gretchen said, biting her lower lip as she looked through the menu. “Gosh, this place is fancy. I don't even know what half the things on the menu are!”
I snorted. “Yeah, there is a lot of French on here,” I agreed. “Which seems kind of silly since we're in Hawaii, but I guess maybe that's the kind of crowd they're trying to draw in.”
The waiter came over, and we placed our orders. I frowned when Gretchen ordered a simple seafood pasta, one of the cheapest dishes on the menu. “I told you, I'm paying,” I reminded her. “You can get something fancier than that.”
Gretchen gave me a look. “I don't want something fancier than that,” she said.
I rolled my eyes. “The one time in your life that you get to go to a fancy place like this, you're going to stick to some plain-Jane pasta dish? You could go for a good steak, or-”
Gretchen stood up, frowning down at me. “Look, I thought you seemed nice when I met you before, but you were kind of a pompous ass. And if that's how you're going to be, then honestly, I don't think I should be here.”
She turned and stalked out of the restaurant, her floral dress fluttering after her. I could only stare after her for a moment, totally flummoxed, and then I got up as well, running after her.
“Wait,” I said, catching at her arm. It was a strange sort of role-reversal from what I was used to. Usually, the girl was running after me, rather than this. I should feel embarrassed. Instead, I just felt uncertain about what had happened.
Gretchen turned toward me, her hands on her hips. “I'm sure you can find ten different women in that restaurant who will be impressed by your money and connections and whatever else,” she said.
I frowned at her. “Yeah,” I agreed. “But there's a reason I asked you on a date.”
Gretchen snorted. “I'm sure there are at least five women in that restaurant who will be impressed with your money and who will also come home with you at the end of the night,” she said. “I appreciate that you're just trying to get laid, but-”
“That's not it,” I interrupted. I frowned deeper and shook my head. “Gretchen, you know I normally don't ask women out on dates.”
“So, what, I should feel special?” she asked, disbelief clear in her voice.
“That's not what I'm saying,” I told her impatiently.
“So, what are you trying to say?” Gretchen challenged.
I took a deep breath and then plunged into it. “You know this island better than me, right? You take me out someplace. I'll still pay, of course. But let's go someplace and get some decent food and just enjoy one another's company.”
Gretchen gave me a doubtful look and then shrugged, laughing a little. “Okay,” she said. “Come on. But your suit is going to look weird at this place.”
I snorted. “Better to be overdressed than underdressed,” I told her. “Plus, it'll just be like prom, round two.”
“I'm not going home with you at the end of the night,” Gretchen warned me, then clapped a hand over her mouth, looking mortified at the words that had just come out of it.
“Okay,” I said easily. “You seem more like a three-date girl anyway.” I winked over at her.
“Five dates,” she managed. “You take me out for five dates, and I'll go home with you.” She looked embarrassed to have said that as well, and I couldn't help laughing.
“I'm going to hold you to that,” I teased. I linked hands with her and let her lead me down the street to a little hole-in-the-wall burger place that she knew. Eating a burger while dressed in a nice, new suit wasn't my idea of a good time.
But it was hers, so I was all in.
Chapter Twelve
Gretchen
I might have expected that Mina would be there on Monday morning, wanting every detail from the date. I rolled my eyes affectionately at her. “You're obsessed,” I said.
“He's the hottest young bachelor in the country,” Mina said. “According to, like, five different magazines. And his money. I can only imagine what it must be like to date him.”
I groaned. “Don't remind me about his money,” I told her. “That's all he wanted to talk about for the first, like, half an hour.”
“Oh, yikes,” Mina said. “So, it didn't go well, then?”
I sighed. “It kind of did,” I admitted. “It was almost as though we had two different dates, rolled into one night.” Mina looked confused; I shrugged. “He took me out to the Bay Resort restaurant to start with,” I told her. “We both dressed up nice, and yeah, he just was kind of an asshole about his money and everything else. He acted as though it was a given that I was going to go home with him at the end of the night.”
“He is Christian Wall,” Mina pointed out. Then, she winced. “Sorry. I know you're my best friend, and I should be on your side, just.”
I laughed a little. “Yeah, he's pretty attractive,” I agreed. “I walked off from the first part of the date before we'd even ordered our food or anything. Actually, it was as we were ordering our food. But he was just being such an ass about everything that I didn't want to be there anymore. That's when we started the second date. I took him to that little burger place up the street from Bay Resort, Kathy's place, and even though I could tell that eating a burger while wearing a fancy suit wasn't his thing. He just went along with it.”
Mina shook her head. “You had Christian Wall on a date, and you just went for burgers?” she asked, sounding incredulous. “You at least got a little dessert, right?”
I laughed again. “Mina, you know I'm not that kind of girl,” I chided. I blushed a little. “I told him that he had to take me on five dates before I'd sleep with him.”
“So, are we counting last night as one date or two?” Mina asked, grinning slyly at me.
I rolled my eyes. “One,” I said. I paused, biting my lower lip. “The t
hing is, I know he's going to be headed back to New York soon enough, and I don't want to get tied up with him, knowing that.”
Mina groaned. “Gretchen!” She sounded positively scandalized. “You do realize that it's okay to just have fun with somebody, don't you? I mean, have fun and get your needs met! It doesn't all have to be about settling down and having kids and having a future or whatever else.”
I sighed. “Yeah, I know,” I said. “But all the same.”
“You like him,” Mina said, realization lighting her eyes. “Oh, wow. You like him.”
“No!” I said, a bit too quickly.
“You do,” Mina said, looking gleeful. “You're afraid to sleep with him because you're afraid that you're going to start feeling attached to him, and you're not sure how to deal with that.”
I scowled. For all that I might wish that things were otherwise, I had to admit that she was right. I didn't like the side of him that I'd seen first, on Saturday night. I didn't need to hear him bragging about his money trying so damn hard to impress me. None of that mattered to me.
But the guy who had come into my massage parlor twice now, the guy who had started to unfurl once we were over at Kathy's hole-in-the-wall burger place. Yeah, I liked him. He was cute and sexy and funny and all the things that I wanted in a guy. And that was exactly why I couldn't sleep with him.
Especially since he still wouldn't tell me how long he was going to be in Hawaii for.
Before I could respond to Mina, though, my first appointment of the day came in. “Mrs. Harris, it's good to see you again!” I said, as enthusiastically as I could, moving around to give her a little hug. She was one of my regulars, once just a woman on her honeymoon, but she'd been living there for six years now, and I'd been with her every step of the way.
“Good morning, Gretchen,” she said warmly. “And good morning to you too, Mina. How are you?”
“Wonderful,” Mina said, smiling at the woman. I could see in her eyes that this wasn't over, that we were going to return to the conversation about Christian again, but for now, I was grateful for the reprieve. “I'd better get back to the pineapple shop, though,” she said.
“I hear that things have been busy there lately!” Mrs. Harris said.
“Yeah, they've been a bit nuts,” Mina said, running a hand back through her hair. “It's all Gretchen's fault, of course; she keeps insisting to people that there's no better detox than a massage and a pineapple shake!”
“And she's right with that!” Mrs. Harris said, her blue eyes twinkling.
I handed her the massage robe and showed her back into the second, larger massage room, leaving her alone for a moment to get situated.
“I hope I wasn't interrupting something,” she said as I came into the room. “It looked like the two of you were altogether too serious, for once!”
I laughed a little, wondering how much I should tell her. “We were just talking about what we'd done last weekend,” I finally settled on. “Nothing serious, no.”
“Hmm,” Mrs. Harris said, humming contentedly as I began to massage the tension out of her. I already knew exactly where I was going to need to focus the massage, no matter how often I told her that she was going to get a hunched back from swinging her grandchildren up into her arms so frequently, she was still going to keep doing that, probably for the rest of her life.
“So, what did you do last weekend, then?” she asked.
“What did you do last weekend?” I countered.
Mrs. Harris laughed. “The usual,” she said. “I took Emmy and Lenore out to the beach on Saturday, and we made a day of it, with a picnic and everything. Then on Sunday, Josh and I went golfing.”
I smiled a little. “Always the same,” I teased.
“Always,” she agreed. “But it's good that way. If you have a good day, there's no reason not to keep repeating it, that's what I figure.”
“That's a good way to live,” I said.
“What did you do this weekend?”
I frowned, trying to figure out how to answer. Before I could, the surprise of the century, Christian himself, poked his head into the room. “Sorry to interrupt,” he said, not sounding sorry at all.
Mrs. Harris' gaze was around to him in a flash. “Christian Wall?” she asked, sounding shocked.
Christian rubbed the back of his neck. “That's me,” he agreed, sounding sheepish.
“Oh, just wait until the girls at the club hear about this,” she said, shaking her head.
I grimaced. “I'm with a customer,” I told Christian coolly.
“Oh, don't mind me,” Mrs. Harris said. She grinned a little. “Actually, you're my one celebrity free pass. I told my husband that after reading that piece in Voyeur about your charity work. I can't believe all the things that you do to help those disabled children.”
If I wasn't mistaken, that was a hint of a blush on Christian's face. But he grinned, leaning his hip against the doorjamb. “I bet I'm sexier than your husband's celebrity free pass.”
“Oh, definitely,” Mrs. Harris agreed. She looked back at me over her shoulder. “You know Christian Wall? Is that what you did this weekend?”
It was my turn to blush. I didn't miss the innuendo in her words. “It's not like that,” I protested. “I know him. Mr. Wall has been in here a few times for a massage. But-”
“If you need to talk to him, don't let me stand in the way,” Mrs. Harris said.
“I did just want to borrow Gretchen for a couple of moments,” Christian said, playing up the charm factor. He winked at Mrs. Harris. “I'd be more than happy to have a portrait, or maybe a poster, sent over to your house for the inconvenience.”
“There's no inconvenience at all,” Mrs. Harris said, the traitor. She was practically shooing me out of the massage room.
I stalked out into the reception area, careful to close the door behind me. “What the hell was that?” I snapped. “You can't just show up at my work and-”
“You never gave me your phone number,” Christian interrupted. “I wasn't sure how else to contact you, except through the concierge desk at the resort, and that just seemed a little impersonal. And no one was going to buy that I needed another massage so soon.”
I snorted. “You were already pushing it, coming in two days in a row,” I agreed.
“I want to take you out again,” Christian told me. “On a proper date.” He frowned. “Okay, sure, the other night ended up being a pretty proper date, once I…” He rubbed the back of his neck again. Then, he laughed a little. “I'm not usually this nervous.”
I frowned, surprised by his raw honesty. “You're nervous?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
Christian folded his arms across his chest. “I can't say that the last date was a resounding success,” he said. “I'd like to make that up to you if I could.”
I blinked, wondering if this was the same guy who was splashed across all those magazines that Mina loved to read. “How?” I asked.
The thing was, I didn't want to go on another date with him. Maybe it was bad, but I just didn't think that we had that much in common with one another. And the things that we did have in common, like the fact that we were here in Hawaii, weren't the kinds of things that I cared about when it came to a relationship.
“Come on,” Christian cajoled. “Look, I know I didn't give you the best impression of me the last time. But let me make that up to you. I talked to Mark, he's my driver here and a great guy, and he gave me some recommendations. We can go get barbecue down on the beach and watch the sunset, and I won't wear a suit or anything like that.” His eyes coasted over my curves. “You'd still look sexy in a dress, but just a casual beach dress, nothing fancy. I promise.”
I frowned. “There have to be other women on this island who would love to leap into bed with you,” I said. Mina, for one. For a moment, I debated sending him next door to see my best friend, who would probably love to do nothing more than take a tumble between the sheets with him. But for some reason, desp
ite my uncertainty toward him, I felt a bit jealous of the thought of that.
Oh, brother.
“All right,” I said before he could respond to that. “Okay, you can take me out, just one more time though. If I walk away from this one, I'm not going to see you again.”
“That's fair,” Christian said. He smiled down at me. “I'll pick you up at 6 p.m. tomorrow, okay?”
I watched as he started to leave the shop, not even bothering to wait for my acceptance of that time. Just who did he think he was, anyway? But at the same time, I couldn't seem to argue with him. “See you tomorrow,” I said faintly. Then, I shook my head and went back to the massage room, where Mrs. Harris was patiently waiting.
“These walls are very thin, you know,” she said, smirking like the devil incarnate.
I didn't even know that it was possible to blush in all of the places that I was currently blushing, but there I was. “It's not going to lead to anything,” I said primly, resuming the massage where I'd left off.
“All the same,” Mrs. Harris said, settling back against my ministrations. “You might as well enjoy it, while you can. You know that he isn't going to be here forever, but that doesn't mean that you can't enjoy the time that you have. It's like that with a marriage too, you know.”
“That's basically what Mina said,” I admitted. “She told me to just have fun with it.”
“Wise words,” Mrs. Harris said. She laughed a little. “Don't get me wrong, I love my husband very much, but sometimes I wish that I'd had a bit more fun when I was younger, and I think he does too!”
I laughed a little at that, but even still, I couldn't help feeling a bit shaken by it all.
Chapter Thirteen
Christian
Mark laughed a little as he watched me fuss over which shirt to wear. “What are you, a girl?” he taunted.
I held the gray shirt up to myself, watching carefully in the mirror. Then, I held the blue shirt up to myself. “Not a woman,” I said, a bit distractedly. “But I like to look good.”
“Man, you are going to look good no matter which shirt you choose, and you know it,” Mark said, shaking his head. He paused and then offered, “The blue one is better.”
