Chapter 2
Elizabeth
I was barely in my front door before Cressida thrust a glass of white wine in one hand and a mozzarella stick, still warm from the oven, into the other.
And who said living with a roommate was a bad thing.
“Wine while you whine?” she inquired in a dignified tone.
I laughed and took a bite of the cheese stick, passing the wine back to her momentarily while I slipped out of my coat and boots. I often wondered if she had some sort of sixth sense when it came to cheering people up. All I’d texted her was that I was on my way home.
“I’m so happy to see you,” I cooed.
“Thought you might be,” she replied.
I giggled and snatched the wine glass back out of her hand. “I was talking to the wine.”
“I know,” she winked.
Cressida always knew the right thing to say when I was down. We met in university, back when I’d thought I wanted to be a teacher, and had been inseparable ever since. She was the only person who’d enthusiastically supported me when I changed my major to art and design in junior year, and had continued this support when I pursued a diploma in interior design after graduation.
“I think I just screwed up the highest profile job I’ll ever get the opportunity to interview for.”
Cressida waved a dismissive hand at me. “Oh shush,” she said. “It’s a wonder you ever get anything done with that dark cloud hanging over your head. Now come sit down and enjoy your vino with me. I made classy hors d'oeuvres.”
I smiled and followed her into the kitchen, where she’d set up a platter of mozzarella sticks and spring rolls in the middle of the table. Raising my eyebrow, I asked, “What happened to the classy ones? Did you eat them already?”
She plunked down into her seat and gave me a flat look. “I didn’t have time to run to the grocery store, okay? I had to make do.” She gestured to the seat across from her with a flourish of her hand. “Besides, you love this shit.”
She had me there. I sat down and shoved the rest of my mozza stick in my mouth, washing it down with a hearty sip of wine. “This is delicious,” I said. “What vintage is it?”
She leaned back and opened the fridge door, craning her neck to peer inside. “Uh, that would be the 2016 Yellowtail Pinot Grigio,” she said. “In a box, to preserve its coveted plastic-y taste.”
I swirled my glass, sniffing appreciatively. All wine usually smelled the same to me. “I’m getting notes of onion and garlic. Has it been in the fridge long?”
She sat forward and closed the door, picking up her own glass and giving it a shrewd look. “Yes, about two weeks I believe.” She took a dainty sip. “I believe it is now at its peak in terms of flavor and depth.”
We both descended into fits of giggles.
“I’m sorry that the interview didn’t go well,” she said once she’d calmed back down. “I’m sure it went better than you thought though.”
I sighed and took another sip of the tart liquid. Then I pointed to the fridge.
Cressida glanced back. “Are you pointing to the paper you stuck on there?” she asked.
I nodded. The tiny square was blank, save for five numbers—88764. “That’s the code for the front gate. The guy I interviewed with told me it over the phone and I figured I’d just bring the paper with me when I went.”
“And you forgot?” she filled in.
I nodded grimly. “Big time. And then I panicked and did the only rational thing I could think of.”
“You pressed the buzzer and got him to let you in?”
“Apparently everyone knows about buzzers on gates except me. So no, I climbed over the gate. Like a total weirdo.” I popped the last bite of a cheese stick into my mouth to keep from sighing as Cressida buckled over with laughter.
“You did not.”
“I did,” I confirmed. “And of course, that meant I couldn’t drive up their insanely long driveway so I had to walk, but then I was going to be late so that turned into a run. I swear to god that thing could double as a runway for the private plane I’m sure they have stashed somewhere on the property.”
Cressida’s coarse laughter continued. I waited it out with another mouthful of wine and a hefty dose of glare. Her long blonde hair rolled over and covered her face. She didn’t even bother to push it away.
Just as quickly as she’d dissolved, Cressida sobered up. “But then I’m sure you wowed him, right?”
“Well, it started well…” I shrugged.
Her fierce blue eyes narrowed on me. Because of her lean frame, she often reminded me of an elf when she looked at me like that.
“Until I got snarky with him because he said Jamie Oliver’s an idiot.”
She snorted. “Well you were right to do so,” she replied. “Nobody talks about our Jamie like that.”
I leaned back into the chair, sliding my socked feet along the cool linoleum. “And I’m sure it will come as a great comfort to me, when I’m forced to subsist on ramen noodles for the next six months, that I defended the honor of a multimillionaire celebrity chef that lives thousands of miles away.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much about it, hon,” she said. “Did he actually say it was a no?”
I shook my head. “He said he had other people to interview and that he’d call me when he knew.”
“Then he’ll call you when he knows,” she shrugged. “So try not to freak out until then.”
I took another swig of my drink. Easier said than done.
Just as I reached for a spring roll, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I nearly jumped out of my chair.
“Jeez, Liz,” Cressida hissed. “You’re going to give me a heart attack. Relax a little.”
I smiled apologetically and fished my phone out of my pocket, checking the caller ID. It said it was private, just as it had when I’d received the call about the interview. But that didn’t mean anything. Lots of people blocked their numbers these days. It was probably a telemarketer.
“Hello?”
“Ah, Ms. Paulson. It’s Todd Franklin.”
I paled. Cressida must have caught my expression because she dropped her spring roll mid-bite and ran around to my side, pressing her ear close to mine.
“Hi Mr. Franklin,” I said. “I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”
His breathy laugh crackled through the line. “I didn’t expect to make a decision so quickly.”
I waited, not even daring to breathe.
“I am delighted to offer you the position, Ms. Paulson. Your interview impressed me and I don’t believe interviewing the other candidates will be necessary after all.” He chuckled. “I particularly enjoyed your proposed dissection of the foyer. I look forward to seeing what you can do with it.”
I dropped the phone, which turned out to be fine since Cressida snatched it before it even moved an inch. She always had my back.
“Wow, thank you!” I sputtered. “I—I’m so excited to get started!”
“Please meet me at the residence at nine a.m. on Monday. I’ll give you the grand tour, and then we can get started. Does that suit?”
“Yes!” I practically shouted. Then, quieter, “Yes, I think that will suit just fine.”
“Great. See you then.”
“Bye,” I said. “Th—”
Cressida took the phone away from my ear and hit the end call button before I could finish my words.
“I was just going to say thank you,” I said, snatching it back.
She shrugged and walked back over to her side of the table. “You can’t blame me for being cautious,” she replied. “You get really weird on the phone.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but she was right. I’d accidentally told the pizza guy I loved him once as I hung up. She still brought it up anytime we ordered for delivery.
“So you got the job,” she said in a measured tone.
I nodded. “I got the job.”
“And it’s Friday night.”
&nbs
p; “It is.”
“And tomorrow is Saturday.”
I nodded slowly, narrowing my eyes in suspicion. “Yes. That’s how the days of the week work.”
She grinned, eyes lighting up with mischief. “Then methinks it’s time to go celebrate, girl.” She grabbed a mozzarella stick and thrust it in the air like a beacon. “To the bar!”
Chapter 3
Elizabeth
The pounding bassline resonated through my ears, driving deep within me like railroad spikes. And we hadn’t even gotten inside yet.
“I told you Repeat was too exclusive,” I grumbled. “We should have just gone to The Juniper Tree like we usually do.”
Cressida was swaying on her feet, though not from drunkenness. If there was music playing, Cressida was dancing to it. Most of the time it seemed more subconscious than anything else.
“And I told you,” she said, “The Juniper Tree is no place to celebrate getting your dream job.” She smiled and batted her lashes at a passing stranger with dreamy blue eyes. “When you’re the best, you deserve the best.”
Sighing, I returned my gaze to the bouncers at the front of the line. We were close enough now that I could almost smell the sweat and bad decisions coming from inside. The buzz from my wine, however, had worn off half an hour ago.
“Relax, Liz.” Cressida punched me lightly on the arm. “Good things come to those who wait.”
Whether anything good would come out of this remained to be seen.
I was being cranky and Cressida didn’t deserve it. Not after she’d made me food and listened to me gripe about my job interview. Not after she’d dropped everything she was doing to get me out on the town as soon as I got the call from Todd.
I plastered on a smile and decided to enjoy the evening as best as I could.
The taller bouncer with the ginger beard finally waved us in, removing the velvet rope from our path.
“Here we go!” she whispered, grabbing me by the hand and pulling me inside.
We worked our way through the heaving darkness to the bar, where Cressida ordered us both a cocktail and a shot. I sunk my shot back with a grimace. It burned like hell.
“What the hell is this?” I asked.
Cressida waggled her eyebrows. “Good ‘ol whiskey.”
“It tastes disgusting. And it burns.”
She cackled and grabbed me by the hand again, jerking me toward the dance floor. We slipped through the cracks in the gyrating bodies and made a home for ourselves a little closer to the middle. Cressida always liked to be the center of attention. I didn’t mind. She threw off whatever emotion she was feeling and I sucked it up. In no time at all, I was swinging my hips and shaking my head like the world depended on it.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a still figure. Odd, since everybody here seemed to be moving.
I glanced over and suddenly everything around me quieted for a moment. My attention was fixated. Focused. I couldn’t even move.
“What is it?” Cressida yelled in my ear.
I jolted, my attention returning to the present.
“Sorry,” I replied, getting back into the groove. “I guess I zoned out for a minute.”
I chanced another look at the man across the dance floor. He smiled in amusement.
I hadn’t just zoned out, I’d had my mind completely wiped by the sheer attractiveness of him. He stood out in the fracas, tall and dark. But even from a distance, his eyes were piercing. And he had been looking right at me.
Cressida craned her neck to follow my gaze.
“Oh my!” Her breath blasted against my ear as she made herself heard over the music. “Were you and that guy just eye-fucking each other?”
A shiver went through me.
Were we?
I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “We exchanged a glance or two.”
Her grin ate up half her face. “Go talk to him!” she commanded. “He’s hot as hell.”
“Too hot,” I replied. “The kind of hot that gets you burned.”
Cressida rolled her eyes. “You’re always so dramatic.”
“I’m practical!”
She glanced over at my silent admirer again and her eyes bulged. I followed her gaze.
“He’s got a friend!” she exclaimed.
Tall, dark, and hot-as-a-blow-torch had been joined by another man. He was maybe an inch or two shorter, but still as tall and imposing as they came. His mid-length hair was sandy, and had clearly been styled to look like bedhead.
Thankfully, neither of them were looking at us anymore.
“Too bad,” I said. “Looks like their attention has strayed.”
Thinking that was the last of it, I resumed dancing. Cressida frowned but joined me. The next time I looked over, the men were gone.
I was hot, sweaty, and having one of the better nights of my life. Cressida and I landed at the bar with goofy grins and ordered two more cocktails and two more shots of whiskey.
It was still gross, but it was doing the trick.
My roommate elbowed me in the ribs, almost causing me to choke on my drink. “Look!” she hissed.
I glowered at her, rubbing my sore side, but swung my attention in the direction she was not so subtly jerking her head.
Across the bar, a pair of serpentine green eyes caught mine. It was the guy from the dance floor. My breath whooshed from my chest, heart beating at an even quicker pace than the high-powered beat of the pop music.
“Go talk to him!” Cressida urged, sliding my forgotten shot in front of me. “It’s dangerous to go alone. Take this.”
“I can’t go talk to him!” I insisted. “He looks like he took a wrong turn and ended up here instead of the cover of a magazine.”
Cressida nudged the shot even closer. “He’s probably thinking the same thing about you.”
“You know I don’t do one night stands, Cress.”
“How do you know that?” she asked. “You’ve never had one.” Cressida waggled her eyebrows at me. “Come on, babe. Who’s gonna know if you let loose for once in your life? What’s the worst that could happen?”
“And what are you gonna do?” I asked, trying not to let my bewilderment show on my face.
She grinned mischievously, her eyes darting to my admirer’s friend. “I think I can entertain myself.”
I groaned, but it was no use. I wanted to go talk to him so badly that my feet were tapping against the floor in their haste. I was just scared. Cressida could walk up to anybody and start a conversation. I, on the other hand, was a little more… reserved.
But what was I afraid of? Cressida was right—he wouldn’t be looking at me like this unless he was interested too. That or he was luring me into a timeshare opportunity, but if that was the case the joke was on him because I had no money.
Anyway, Cress was right. What was I afraid of, anyway? I was young, fairly attractive, and suddenly professionally successful. Didn’t I deserve a reward?
And he was one hell of a reward.
Was I really going to let my own stupid inhibitions keep me from enjoying myself, just this once?
“Fine.” I slammed the shot back and grimaced. “Let’s do this.”
I took one last look at the stranger, just to make sure he was still interested. He definitely was, and he seemed to know what was coming because he smiled seductively.
I gulped, but put one shaky foot in front of the other until I found myself in front of him. Cressida moved effortlessly beside me, slinking off to grab the guy’s friend by the elbow and talk in his ear.
Now that I was closer, I could see the faint trace of stubble on the man’s chin. I would have said he looked thirty to the day, with a jawline and cheekbones like a stone-carved statue.
My heart thumped again, the loud music the only thing keeping everyone around me from hearing it.
He’s even hotter up close.
“Hi,” I barked out.
The man turned away from the bar, facing me head on. He cocked his head to t
he side, studying me. “Hello.”
I barely heard his voice over the music but I could tell even then that it was silky as hell.
He leaned in and I gasped. His breath tickled my neck, sending a wave of goosebumps down my spine.
“I was hoping we’d get a chance to chat,” he said.
Dirty Jock Page 28
