by Kenna North
I smoothed one hand down along my black wrap dress as I approached her and turned to look in the other direction. Two more steps and I had bumped into her gently, giving her a good amount of soft female flesh pressed against her arm before I turned my head and said, “Oh dear, pardon me. That was inexcusably clumsy.”
She looked at me with a smile, her eyes twinkling. “Well, I’m happy to excuse you, if you’ll make up for it by letting me buy you a drink.”
Ha. Too easy. Maybe innocent wasn’t such a bad trait, after all.
“That is a very sweet, especially after what I did to you,” I said, batting my eyelashes slowly up at her. It wouldn’t do to use full-on Bambi eyes or move too fast, of course. I had to take this one subtle maneuver at a time. “I’d love a martini, if you don’t mind.”
“Okay. You got it. Just don’t go disappearing on me.” A wink followed her playful smile and I lowered my gaze, dropping my chin just enough to look coy.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I told her. As soon as she stepped away, my cell phone buzzed. I fished it out of my clutch and looked at the text from Riley.
Hooked?
With a chuckle, I texted back, Of course. Yours?
After a few seconds, her response popped up on my screen. My usual bait isn’t working.
Of course it wasn’t. I’d sent her right into the orbit of Shane Woodward, her rival in the magazine industry. Did she expect me to make it easy for her? Personally, I couldn’t stand the bitch. She was a ruthless ice queen and the woman least likely to be susceptible to Riley’s charms. As much as it grated on me that someone like her couldn’t see what my dear Riley had to offer, I restrained myself.
I’ll give you a lifeline, I told her. Call on it anytime.
You don’t think I can do this?
I pondered my response and then typed it out. I might have intentionally set you up for probable failure, but I think you’ve got a chance if you figure out which buttons to push.
As my own fish returned, I put the phone back in my clutch and smiled up at her. “Well, will you look at that? Such prompt service.” I accepted the martini and raised it before taking a sip. “Lovely.”
“I know you are,” she said.
Ah. Smooth for a baby journalist.
“Listen, I’m not usually the girl who picks a lady up at a gay bar, but I’d love to talk to you somewhere quieter than this.”
“Oh you would, would you?”
“Sure. If you tell me your favorite restaurant, we’ll go there right now.”
Smooth and clever. Interesting combination for someone who looked like she just got off the turnip wagon, a doe-eyed outsider among all the crisp business suits and stylish dresses. “What’s your name?” I asked, lowering my voice to what I hoped was a sultry tone.
“Krista. What’s yours?”
Smooth, clever, and perhaps a tad ironic, I decided. “Alexis.” I offered her my hand and grimaced at the feel of her rough palm against mine. Girl was seriously in need of some moisturizer. She was definitely not my type, but that would make her all the more open to my flirtation. Riley’s house in the Hamptons was as good as mine.
Of course, I wouldn’t actually hold Riley to the wager, but it would be so much fun to watch her sweat.
“So now that we know each other’s names, I just need to know what you want for dinner, Alexis.”
I pursed my lips before giving her a slow, feline smile. “Follow me, Krista.”
Chapter 4
Alexis strolled out of the bar with the blue-collar babe on her heels. That was no surprise to me. Women like her had it easier than they realized when it came to finding partners, especially women like her. That wide-eyed non-New Yorker probably considered herself lucky to get attention from her. And that was all well and good for her, but what the hell was I supposed to do about Shane?
A quick internet search while I went to the bar and bought her a drink had confirmed my worst guesses. She was considered quite a hard-ass in our industry. Why didn’t I remember her? Because that wasn’t my job. Because the demanding, bitchy editors of other magazines weren’t of interest to me. My job was to make money and I didn’t do that by worrying about the competition. I did it by cultivating the right alliances.
I returned to Shane with her drink, a white wine she’d requested reluctantly. She was a hard read. Was she annoyed with my attention? Secretly thrilled by it? Suspicious? Suspicion seemed like the safest assumption, but I simply raised my glass to her and said, “Here’s to you, Woodward.”
Shit. The words tumbled from my lips too soon, words any other woman would appreciate, but Shane would definitely look upon with skepticism.
Then again…
Maybe that was my approach. After all, didn’t the old saying tell us it was good to keep our friends close, but our enemies closer?
“What kind of game are you playing, Cahill?” She didn’t sound or look perturbed, but she didn’t exactly look friendly, either. Again, hard to tell what was going on in that head of hers, but I did like how those glasses framed her intelligent eyes.
“It’s a game for which the rules have yet to be written.”
This time she did narrow her eyes at me. “Well, how about the don’t bother me again rule?”
“Now, see, I can’t observe that because something about you caught my eye tonight.” It wasn’t a come-on anymore. It was a bluff as I tried to navigate my obvious flirting faux pas.
She let out a soft, derisive, tinkling laugh. “You mean the Prada clutch? Sorry, not sorry, Cahill. The Hearst exclusive on it ended this morning. Didn’t you get the memo?”
“Oh, come now, Woodward. You have to understand it wasn’t just the clutch that brought me over here.”
“Then what was it?” Her tone was even softer now, as if she were coiling like a snake, waiting to strike.
I knew what I was about to say put me on the fine line between trying too hard and being a jerk, but it seemed like my only option. “The Chanel glasses, of course. You’re the first women I’ve seen who can pull off the cat’s eye. You didn’t have them at any of the shows last year, otherwise I would have noticed you. I have a thing for women in glasses.”
Thank you Google, for the photos I’d found so quickly at the bar.
Her expression finally softened. “That’s funny,” she said, “but none of the women with you on page six wear glasses.”
“That’s because the good ones are taken. Of course, I know you’ve probably got a secret relationship with someone worthy of you.” She opened her mouth, but I raised my hand and quickly said, “You don’t need to tell me. Your personal life doesn’t concern me the way it does the paparazzi and I respect your discretion. I just wanted to let you know I noticed you and I’m sorry I forgot who you are, until you reminded me. I’ll just be on my way now. Have a fantastic evening, Woodward. I won’t darken your doorstep again.”
I turned and strode away, reaching into my pocket for my phone as I walked. The moment I turned the corner, I texted my assistant and asked her to give me a list of upcoming events Shane Woodward would be attending that I had been invited to as well. Normally, I hated those events and passed the invites on to my editors. Now, though, I would have to get as much time with Shane as possible.
As much as I’d hoped to get further with her tonight, I knew I had to let it go. If I pushed too hard, I would push her away.
Alexis hadn’t just given me a semi-attractive, business-focused woman to reel in. She’d set me up with my enemy.
The clock was ticking, but I’d have to bide my time.
Chapter 5
“So Italian is your favorite.” Krista put down her menu and grinned at me. The expression only made her look younger and more innocent. “What better place for it than New York City?”
“Yes.” I looked around the small restaurant. She had no idea what she was in for – a real treat as far as the food was concerned. It looked like a hole in the wall, but it was one of the city’s best-ke
pt secrets. The wine was fantastic too, but I wasn’t going to indulge in any tonight. I needed to keep my wits sharp if I was going to win this game, not that I thought I’d have any trouble. At this very moment, Riley was probably befuddled as she realized her usual tactics with women wouldn’t work on Shane.
Krista gave the waiter our orders and handed over our menus. As soon as the waiter left, Krista folded her hands atop the table and said, “So, Alexis, what do you do?”
“I’m in the publishing industry. What do you do?”
“I’m a furniture maker from upstate.”
Of course she was. So much for the baby journalist judgment. That explained so many things about her, like the rough palms. “So what brings you to the city tonight?” I asked.
“Business and a visit to family. My mother requested the ‘pleasure of my company’.” She curled her fingers in air quotes and I held back a snicker.
Instead, I leaned forward just a bit, making sure I appeared interested in what she had to say. “Your mother used that kind of language? Is she a lady who lunches?”
“Oh yes, she most definitely is.”
Okay, so this was beyond interesting. It was intriguing. I drew my fingertip over the rim of my water glass and said, “Would I know her?”
“Possibly, but if I tell you her name, you might not want to know me.”
“Oh my.” I smiled in what I hoped was a playful manner, but inside my heart was pounding. There was quite a cadre of upper class socialites here in New York City, and the fact that Krista’s mother was one of them? That could either work in my favor or against me, depending on who she was. I was dying to know.
But I also wanted to win this bet, which meant I had to bide my time. Even being women, we wouldn’t declare love for one another if we seemed too eager. Krista was not the kind of girl for me to seduce and discard. I had to be earnest, ironic as it seemed.
I tried not the scoff. I hadn’t been the earnest ingénue since I was twelve. Maybe even eleven. Regardless, it was the way I had to play the situation now. So I simply said, “You must be a good daughter, to visit your mom when she asks. I think that’s lovely.”
The waiter brought our basket of breadsticks and our salads, so I concentrated on the food, instead. My stomach was growling. Unlike so many of the women in my industry, I believed in eating a healthy and filling amount of food. I dug into the salad and savored the taste of the vinaigrette drizzled atop the greens and chopped vegetables. Krista wrinkled her nose at it, but her expression relaxed after she tried a forkful.
“This is actually pretty good for rabbit food,” she said.
“Oh, this isn’t bona fide rabbit food. It has too many other toppings to qualify as that.” I winked at her and made sure to pile my fork high with the spinach, peppers, and cheese. “See this? Cheese is full of fat and it’s also full of deliciousness.” I closed my lips over the forkful of food and let out an exaggerated “Mmm” as I withdrew the utensil from my mouth.
Krista chuckled and emulated me. “Mmm is right. It’s not so bad.”
“What does a hardworking girl like you eat – meat and potatoes?”
She tossed her head a bit and then flicked her bangs off her forehead. I wanted to give her a stylish new haircut. “Of course, but I don’t mind the occasional special meal out with the right person.”
I lowered my lashes and took my time formulating my next response. “How do you know when someone is the right person?” I asked softly.
“Well, it takes time, of course. I have to know she’s the kind of girl I can take home to my mom.”
Barf.
“And she needs to be smart and funny, and like the country, of course.”
Gag me.
“It doesn’t hurt for her to love being outdoors.”
Ew.
Still, if I had to do this for two weeks, I didn’t mind honing my claws on her, so I met her gaze and said, “It sounds like you want the perfect woman. But what if she doesn’t exist?”
“Then I won’t give up. Someone’s out there for me – someone sweet and loyal, who wants to spend the rest of her life with a woman like me.”
“Maybe…” I dropped my voice to a seductive whisper. “Like a dog?”
She burst out laughing and shook her head. “You are hilarious, Alexis. I like that about you. And dogs are all well and good, but they smell bad when they get wet, and the last thing I want is to sleep with something that stinks when it gets wet.”
The implication made me wrinkle my nose. I wasn’t one for crude humor, but then I realized that wasn’t where she was going. The look on her face was completely open, friendly, and innocent. Really – she hadn’t been making a joke about getting a woman wet?
“Well, you could always get the tiny kind of lap dog that wouldn’t dare go out in the rain,” I suggested, setting my plate aside so the waiter could put my pasta in front of me.
“That’s true, but what use is something like that?”
“Don’t knock cute little dogs. First of all, they make great companions. And, well, that’s really all I can think of. But if it’s companionship you want, you can’t go wrong with a canine. They’re bred for love and loyalty.”
Krista stabbed her fork into her seafood platter. “Are you saying people aren’t?”
With a one-shouldered shrug, I twirled my fork in my pasta. “I’m just saying people who share your mindset are rare.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I mean people who are wholesome and sweet, and believe there’s one person for them. You’ll find women who want to settle down, but finding the right one is like chasing a dream. It’s ephemeral.”
“Nice word. You said you’re in publishing?”
I nodded. “But I’m only a beauty editor, so take my advice with a grain of salt. I’m just saying you won’t pick up your one true sweet and loyal love in a bar.” Why was I saying that to her, when I was supposed to be roping her in? Because I knew introducing a healthy dose of skepticism would keep her interested, but also keep things from getting too serious, too soon.
After all, I didn’t want to really date her or sleep with her. I just wanted to hook her and get her a teensy bit attached to me so I could win the bet. Then I could go back to serial heartbreaking.
“Well, Alexis, you might be on to something, but I would like the opportunity to prove that you could be wrong.”
“And how could you do that?”
She reached across the table, her warm, slightly rough hand covering my delicate one. “Go out with me again. I’m in town all week for a trade show, so why not?”
Hmm. Why not, indeed?
Chapter 6
Shane Woodward’s event schedule almost mirrored all the invitations I’d received for the months of January and February. I just had to make a few adjustments here and have my assistant make a few calls there to RSVP me belatedly to some events I’d planned to blow off.
The first event was tonight – a book release party. I hated books. They were dull. But she would be there, which meant I had to be there. So I was in the company car, traveling the city streets toward a party I knew I didn’t want to attend, to spend time with a woman I didn’t want to deal with, all so I could get the one I really wanted.
Part of me wondered how Alexis had done with her country girl. She was probably bored with her already, but this little bet of hers was a marathon, not a sprint. I knew she thought I wouldn’t be able to keep up with her, considering she set me up with the woman most likely to hate me, but that only made me more determined to win the bet.
And to win Alexis.
No one could compare to her, with her rich, dark brown hair and velvety eyes. I remembered nights lost between those thighs of hers and never, ever wanting to come back. Why had we stopped sneaking around together? The thrill certainly hadn’t worn off after two years of fucking my best friend. Just thinking about her made me wet and I spread my legs a bit, trying to get some air.
It wasn’
t just the forbidden excitement of her being my best friend and us discovering we were lesbians, either. It was also knowing I was getting it on with the hottest girl in our exclusive prep school. While the other ones wanted to nail every guy they could, Alexis and I couldn’t get enough of each other. But when we went to college, we both were eager to explore new conquests and our paths simply stopped crossing. Our parents’ busy lives were, of course, the icing on the cake. They expected their daughters to support them through their divorces. I had no legitimate reason to seek Alexis out at the time, except as a friend.
We had maintained that friendship quite well, meeting for drinks at least once a week to discuss our work and our sexual triumphs, and complain in general about how trite the whole dating scene could be. Not that we dated. We met, we seduced, we fucked, and then we moved on to the next hot piece of ass. Then we sat together and figured out how to make the whole game – from chase to bed – more interesting.
So now we had this bet and it was, perhaps, the most intriguing proposition to date. Jumping into bed with a woman was the easy part. Plenty of models wanted to fuck one of the head businesswomen at one of the top fashion magazines, after all. But having a woman turn into a clingy pain in my ass sucked. Fortunately, dropping her was just as easy as picking her up in the first place. I had no qualms about dumping a clueless one-night-stand brutally. If a run-in with me and my next flavor of the night didn’t send the message, then a text break-up usually did.
Not that I went out of my way to be cruel, but sometimes a person had to be cruel to be kind. My “Sorry, it’s never going to happen between us” text was my Get Out of Jail Free card with women.
In fact, the more I thought about making Shane Woodward love me, the more I relished the idea of dumping her patronizing ass. She was, after all, my competition in the business world and something like this would make a delicious page six scandal. The men would congratulate me. The women would probably hate me, even the ones who worked for me. But even they would secretly appreciate that I had taken down the fashionable ice queen down several pegs. Oh yes, it was a dangerous game, but winning it would be rewarding in more ways than one.
