Eight #2
“Oh,” she said, stopping in the window. “Guess it would take a while to get here then, huh?”
The sun was so bright, everything its light touched glowed. The novelty was fun, Roxie wasn’t sure she’d be able to live with it full-time.
“There are movie theaters in Vegas,” he said. “Pack your stuff and watch your movie there. What is it you want to see? I can have a private showing arranged—”
“It’s not about the movie, it’s about the company. I came on vacation with my friends, I want to spend time with them before they have to go back home.”
“Bring them.” Uh, what? Her wandering thoughts screeched to a halt. “Staff can pack your things and send them to the airport. Staff at your friends’ hotel will do the same for them. Give Astrid the name and room number.”
“Staff?” she said, equally impressed and amused. “I don’t want people packing my stuff, poking around in my underwear. How do I know I’ll get all my panties back?”
“You don’t do lingerie,” he said, proving he’d been listening at one point of the night. “If anything goes missing, I’ll replace it, but I only employ people who can be trusted.”
“I don’t want anyone to pack my things, I can pack my own things. My friends can too.” The alternative he’d suggested was more than ludicrous. Obviously, they weren’t used to the same lifestyle, but did they live on the same planet? “Did I fall asleep while we were talking last night?”
“Yes.”
She cringed. “Sorry, that was rude.”
“You made it until around six a.m., nothing to be ashamed about.”
“You took me to bed.”
“With Astrid, Tibbs, and hotel staff present.”
The serious note of that declaration was weird. “Because you need an audience to carry a woman to bed or… you wanted them to point and laugh at me or…?”
“You live the life I do, you learn to cover your ass.”
Silent understanding opened her lips. “So I couldn’t accuse you of anything…” Like drugging or taking advantage of her. “Wow…” Roxie settled on impressed. “You’re smarter than I gave you credit for… Sort of a sad reflection on the society we live in, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, but it’s a reality of life.”
“We were alone for hours,” she said, touching the window frame with a fingertip. “I could say we were doing anything, no one would know if I was lying.”
“I would know,” he said. “But you’re in my orbit now, Lola, don’t be surprised if people make assumptions.”
“What kind of assumptions?” Sex was the answer to that question; she didn’t need him to say it. “You’d like that, if the whole world thought I was incapable of resisting you.”
“Baby, you are incapable of resisting me.” Swagger rolled through his words. “Just wait ‘til I give you the opportunity to prove me right.”
How was it that the smug jerk from the Talk at Sunset couch could now make her smile with his conceit?
“You want me that bad, roofies are your only option. There’s no way you’ll get near me otherwise.”
“You think I got where I am by giving up at the first obstacle? Count yourself lucky I’m not interested.”
“Oh, you’re not interested? Uh huh,” she said and laughed. “That’s why you wanted to see me in my underwear last night.”
“I was concerned I’d have to let you down easy. Uncomfortable moments like that can have a lasting effect on a relationship.”
“Good thing I’m just your prop then,” she said. “When exactly do I start telling the world the truth about you?”
“You’ll meet the documentary crew in Boston… and your handler too.”
“My handler?” she asked. “The person who watches me and reports back to you?”
“Makes sure you don’t get in the way, that sort of thing.”
“I said you were the wrong kind of spontaneous, didn’t I?”
“Trust me, Lola, in a couple of days, you’ll be thrilled I assigned someone to look after you.”
This guy thought he was better at everything. Including reading her mind. “This will come as a shock to a man surrounded by sycophants, but us real world people can look after ourselves.”
His laugh was short and sinister. “Baby, you don’t have a damn clue what you’re walking into.”
She leaned on the window. “I’m confident.”
“Say that to me again in a week.”
“I will,” she said.
“Okay, Lola,” he said. “Don’t give this number to anyone and don’t save it under my name.”
“In case someone steals my phone?”
“Or you lose it.”
“All that confidence you have in yourself and you can’t spare any for me,” she teased. “Why do you think anyone will care about your phone number?”
“Experience,” he said. “And it’s a pain to change it. There are too many other plates spinning right now. Can you follow simple instructions, Roxanna?”
She licked her lips, aware he was baiting her. “You and your people are quick to order my discretion, but you share my information around amongst yourselves. Who said you could have my phone number? I don’t remember checking that box.”
“Everything you put on your application is part of our system now,” he said. “Just like you.”
The thrill. The heat in her belly. Flurry in her head. The rush. When was the last time a guy exhilarated her?
“Lucky me,” she said, sucking in a breath. “Is this what you do with your days? Call women up to remind them how cocky you are?”
“The initial call, sure. After that, I let assistants maintain contact.”
“I’ll remember that. How many more women are on your call list today?”
He snickered. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, babe.”
“Mm hmm, sure. Go call your next target. I have things to do.”
“You’ll be on the plane?”
“I’ll be on the plane.”
“Good girl,” he said, then the line went dead.
That should patronize her. It didn’t. It was all in the delivery. Damn the man should come with a health warning. Danger: Causes spikes in hormone levels that may lead to involuntary episodes of verbal sparring. Good thing she knew the difference between reality and fantasy.
Leaving the window, she opened the bedroom door with a flourish. The three women in the living room turned to her.
“Change of plan,” Roxie said. “We’re going to Vegas instead.”