CHAPTER 12
As Lux desperately tried to rid her mouth of the martini’s horrid taste, she looked up at Frankie Peterson. Her demeanor was one of calculated interest, a person carrying a camera trailing behind her.
“Quite the performance,” Frankie remarked dryly, her gaze sharp as she observed Lux and Scott.
“Frankie,” Lux managed to say, hastily discarding the napkin and straightening up. Beside her, Scott’s demeanor changed instantly, the remnants of his laughter giving way to a more guarded expression.
“To what do we owe the pleasure?” Scott asked his boss.
“I came to see firsthand how our little experiment is unfolding. And it seems I’ve arrived at a most…interesting moment.”
The photographer, a silent observer until now, raised his camera, subtly capturing the scene at the table.
“Frankie, we’re just—” Lux started, but Frankie held up a hand to stop her.
“Woman-to-woman, Lux, I’m going to give you a free piece of advice. Do with it what you may.”
“I’m listening,” Lux said as the photographer continued to snap shots.
“My dear, as you muddle your way through this challenge, don’t make the mistake of falling for a rake. I mean, it’s one thing for you to prove Scott correct by winning a rake’s heart, but quite another for you to give a rake yours. Trust me when I say they are not relationship material.”
“I completely agree,” Lux said emphatically. “And I can assure you, I won’t.” How in the hell had Frankie concluded she was at risk of losing her heart?
“I’ve seen many bright young women lose their way, charmed by the likes of him.” Frankie nodded toward Scott. “Just remember what’s at stake. This is a challenge, not a romance novel. Keep your eyes on the prize you’re after, not the player who presents as a worthy loser’s trophy.”
Lux could feel tension coming off Scott and was surprised he wasn’t responding until she glanced around and noticed other patrons looking at them. “Got it. Thanks.”
“And Scott,” Frankie said. “I never received a read receipt from you on the text I sent earlier. Be a dear and read it.”
“I’ll do that before morning comes.”
“Now,” Frankie ordered.
Scott frowned and pulled out his phone. Read it. Showed no reaction other than a slight tightening of his lips. “Got it,” he said to Frankie.
“Excellent,” Frankie said, giving a slight nod. “Very well.” Her tone shifted back to one of cool detachment. “Carry on then while I observe.”
With a swift, commanding presence, Frankie moved to a nearby table that offered an unobstructed view of Lux and Scott.
Lux exchanged a quick, knowing glance with Scott, a silent communication passing between them. “I know Frankie warned us that she had eyes everywhere, but I never imagined she’d personally be one of those pairs of eyes.”
“Don’t let her presence throw you off.” Scott signaled to the server with a discreet gesture.
“Yes, sir?” the server inquired, approaching their table.
Scott handed him Lux’s barely touched drink. “The lady would prefer a chocolate martini, instead.”
Lux couldn’t help but smile. “I do have a soft spot for chocolate martinis. How can they be so delightful, yet a dirty martini taste so vile?”
Scott leaned back, a twinkle in his eye. “It’s much like dating. Some people seem like the perfect catch, but once you get to know them, you realize they’re nothing more than a facade. Always look beneath the surface before committing to any potential relationship.”
Lux wrinkled her nose, a little taken aback by his suggestion. “Are you implying what I think you are?” Was he proposing two individuals should have sex before getting serious? But of course he was. He was a rake. A rake who’d already offered to teach her a sexual thing or two.
“Have sex. Yes,” Scott replied. “Or, if that scrambles your good-girl sensibilities, you could simply watch them dance. Someone who knows how to move, who can really dance—they’re usually worth taking home.”
Her cheeks warmed with a blush. She blamed her body’s reaction on the lingering effects of last night’s kiss and Scott’s offer. An offer that left her wanting to temporarily ditch her good-girl status and her good-guy standards. “Do you jump straight to sex, or wait and see how they dance?”
Scott leaned back, casual yet candid. “When I meet an intriguing woman, I invite her to my bed. If there are no sparks, there’s no need to waste time dating.”
“And women actually say yes to this approach?” Lux asked in what she knew he heard as a prudish tone, but she couldn’t help it. Never in her life had she engaged in what could quite possibly be nothing more than a one-night stand.
“I’m a rake, Lux. Women expect me to skip societal formalities.” Scott gave her a smirk. “It’s part of the fun.”
“You’re making my hypothetical professor seem more and more appealing by the minute,” Lux said, mostly meaning it.
Through her peripheral vision, she noticed Frankie leave without her photographer. Had she found them too mind-numbing to spend another moment observing?
“People with too much in common often end up bored,” Scott said, drawing her attention back to him. “In my experience, sex is the glue of a good relationship.”
“People who have nothing in common can quickly become disenchanted with each other,” she countered. “Shared interests are the real glue in a good relationship. I can’t imagine marrying someone who’s my complete opposite.”
“Interesting,” Scott said as he leaned in. “I’d never marry a woman who was just like myself.” His husky whisper sent hot liquid down her spine.
Their words hung between them like an old-fashioned Western standoff. Common Interests versus Opposites Attract. She was probably the most unlike-him person he’d ever shared an intimate conversation with. Did that make her—in his eyes—his perfect mate?
The server whisked by, depositing her chocolate martini with an uppity flair, and a glance at Lux that felt very much like a complete sentence. One that said, “You’re absolutely not his perfect mate.”
“This looks fabulous,” Lux said, ignoring the server, banishing her silly thoughts, and instead placing all her focus on the sight of her new drink.
Scott nodded to the server. “We’ll signal when we’re ready to order dinner.”
Lux picked up the drink and wrapped her lips around the martini’s chocolatey edge, the cool glass contrasting with the warmth still lingering along her spine. As the rich, smooth chocolate cascaded down her throat, she let out a contented sigh, the sound mingling with the click of ice. “Delicious,” she purred.
“Always stick to drinks you know when flirting in a bar,” Scott said, falling back into his coaching mode, but not before Lux caught the briefest flicker of desire in his eyes. “Save the experimenting for home or with friends.” His gaze lingered just a second too long on her lips before he hastily reached for a napkin, dabbing at a non-existent spill by his glass.
The corners of her mouth twitched upward. “Or with dating coaches who will smoothly come to your rescue.”
He cleared his throat, visibly steeling himself. “Ready for another of tonight’s lessons?”
“Give it to me,” Lux said, before savoring another sip of her martini.
A flicker of dismay crossed his features before he swallowed hard. “Doc, piece of advice,” he began, his tone grave. “Never say ‘give it to me’ to a man unless you’re in the market for…a different kind of proposition.” His gaze darted away, as if to ensure no one was listening in, and then back.
Heat filled her cheeks. What was it about this guy that made her blurt innuendoes? “You’ve got to admit, it’s not as bad as the time I inadvertently invited you to go down on me.”
He groaned. “You’re killing me, Doc.”
It was her turn to swallow hard. Don’t play with fire was a saying for a reason. Those who did invariably got burned. She had no desire to be singed by a rake. “How about those lessons you promised me?”
He nodded, as if agreeing their conversation needed a new path. “First, stay away from the crowd. It’s simpler for a man to make a move if you’re alone or with just one friend.”
She took another sip of her drink. “Why only one?”
“Men usually meet a friend at a bar for drinks, not a crowd,” he explained.
“What if a guy approaches that I’m not interested in?” Lux asked.
“Be clear but kind. Rudeness can turn off other potential suitors who might be watching.”
“That’s a no brainer.” Lux watched Frankie’s photographer leave.
“You’d be surprised,” Scott countered, his tone suggesting a wealth of experience. “Many women miss this and lose out on other opportunities.”
“I usually go out in groups. It feels safer,” Lux admitted, her mind drifting. What was Frankie’s end game with those photographs? Would they be used in the next issue of the magazine? And more importantly, who’d hurt Frankie that she’d given Lux such a stern warning not to fall for a rake? Was that mystery person the reason behind Frankie’s prickliness?
“If you’re in a crowd, try standing a bit apart from them. This allows a guy to approach without the intimidation of a group’s worth of eyes on him.”
“That makes sense,” she said, setting aside her psychoanalysis of Frankie. “What else?”
“Try to make eye contact. Not staring, just a flirtatious glance. If he looks back, it’s an invitation.
She reached for a tapa, considering Scott’s words. “Got it. Travel in pairs, eye contact. Next?”
“If it works, he’ll come over with a pickup line.”
The mention of pickup lines had her squirming. Her attempt last night had to have been the worst one ever. A morsel Scott would someday entertain his friends with. “And if he just says hello?”
“Then you say hello and wait.” Scott’s tone suggested there was an art to even this simple interaction.
In her profession, the ability to wait until a client spoke was practically a job requirement. “Got it. Sexy hello followed by psychologist dead air.”
He frowned. “Do you have a sexy hello?”
She nodded.
“Let me hear it.”
She fluttered her lashes and gave it her best shot. “Hello,” she said, low and throaty with a hint of a growl.
A brief pause hung in the air as he adjusted his tie. “Stick with a normal hello and then wait. Trust me, he will move into his pickup line. It might not be smooth, but he’ll have something planned.”
Lux took another sip of her martini, mulling over the dismissal of her seductive hello. It hadn’t been that bad. Hell, she’d practiced it several times today. “What’s up next on your coaching agenda?”
“The importance of touch. It’s a crucial part of flirting.”
“I’m not sure I follow,” she whispered, awareness rippling through her.
Scott’s gaze turned smoldering as he leaned in, his thumb ghosting over her lip with deliberate slowness. “You had a little chocolate there,” he whispered, the simple words charged with an undercurrent of something more.
“Oh.” Her cheeks flushed with a warmth that spread far beyond her skin, even as she dabbed at her mouth, though he had already swept the sweetness away. “Thanks.” What was it about his touch that made her quiver, stirring a yearning even when her mind screamed abort?
“A touch indicates interest,” he said, his tone clinical, a gentle reminder that this was instruction, not initiation. “It’s a way to gauge the situation. If a touch lingers too long or feels off, always trust your gut.”
She exhaled a featherlight breath. “And if I’m interested?”
“While women often respond to the brushing of their hair away from their face, men react positively to a touch on the arm or knee, especially when seated.”
“But how do I justify touching him?” Lux pondered, quite certain she’d never boldly graze a man’s leg.
“No pretense necessary,” Scott explained. “Fold it seamlessly into your interaction. But be cautious, touching a man’s knee can send a certain signal.”
“Like what?”
“Like you want to get out of there and hook up.”
Lux blinked. Was he teasing her, testing her gullibility? “How do they leap to that conclusion?”
“We’re simple creatures,” Scott said, an amused smile curving his lips.
Lux chuckled. He was dead serious. “That much is obvious.” The idea that a simple touch could be so misinterpreted was almost comical, and yet, the intensity behind Scott’s gaze was undeniable. If she weren’t careful, the night would tip into dangerously deep waters. It was time to steer back to the shallows. “What lesson did you skip to tell me about touch?”
Scott’s eyebrows rose in silent acknowledgment, a slight tilt to his head as if he, too, recognized the precarious edge they’d been skirting. He leaned back, creating a space that felt suddenly vast. “The art of small talk. It’s crucial. Master it, and it can be as effective as good looks in getting a date.”
She stiffened, the implication snagging her pride like a thorn. Had she been a natural beauty, she bet he would have skipped this lesson. “That’s good to know, because once our sessions are over, I plan on reverting to my old self.”
Scott gave her a warm, reassuring smile. “You know, Doc, there’s something compelling about a person who is comfortable in their own skin. It’s not the look, but the confidence that truly captivates.”
“Those are pretty words, but I fear reality hasn’t proven you right…yet.”
Scott dropped his chin and raised a brow, his demeanor earnest. “That’s because, up until now, you haven’t had a full arsenal of flirting tools at your disposal. With these new techniques, you might be surprised at how many men ask to buy you a drink, whether you’re decked out in makeup, or just flaunting a swipe of lip gloss. Take my friend, Rose, for instance. She might not be the first one you notice when you walk into a bar, but she can captivate anyone she chooses, simply because she’s mastered the art of flirting.”
“Even you?” Lux probed, intrigued by the mention of a woman in his life.
Scott’s eyes narrowed slightly, a faint crease forming between his brows as if he was deciphering a cryptic message. “Even me what?”
“Would she be able to catch your attention? Or do you only go for traditionally beautiful women?”
Scott’s smile faltered, just for a moment. “I’m not only interested in beautiful woman.”
“Prove it,” Lux challenged, half-joking, half-serious.
“How?” Scott asked, a spark of interest in his eyes.
“Show me a photo of someone you dated this year who isn’t traditionally beautiful.”
Scott’s pause was a beat too long. “Our ideas of beauty might differ.”
“Because I’m a plain Jane, and my standards are lower?”
He ran a hand through his hair, a silent admission of discomfort.
“Forget it,” Lux cut in before he could formulate a reply. “I wasn’t looking for flattery.” The last thing she wanted was a pity compliment. “Tell me about this friend of yours who’s a great flirt despite not fitting the classic beauty mold. How long were you two together?”
“We didn’t date. She’s a friend from back in Shiretopia,” Scott clarified.
“A friend?” She knew very little of his prior life.
“Yes, a friend. Nothing more. Nothing less,” he said, with an air of finality that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Lux’s stomach dropped. “What you’re saying is that despite your assurances—when faced with the chance to pursue someone who wasn’t a classic beauty—you chose to stick her in the friend zone?”
“Her appearance had nothing to do with that decision,” Scott said, his jaw tightening.
“Then why?” Lux pressed.
“I can’t discuss it.”
Lux wasn’t ready to obey the silent order to change the conversation. “Can you at least tell me her secret? How she manages to enchant any man she sets her sights on?”
Scott smiled. “She calls it playing the subtly alluring card.”
“Why subtle?”
“She believes there’s no need to overdo it for anyone’s attention,” Scott said. “And it works for her.”
Lux leaned toward him, eager to hear more. “I need to learn how to pull off this low-key thing, because it sounds way more doable than all of this.” She did jazz hands around her face.
“It’s a matter of being interesting enough to arouse their curiosity while leaving them wanting to know more,” Scott said.
“Kind of like how you’ve kept your followers guessing about why you left Shiretopia.”
Scott smirked. “Exactly. When a guy hits on you in a bar, leave him guessing if you’re a one-night stand kind of woman. Queer or straight. Smart or dumb. Vanilla sex or if you’re the kind of girl who knows what S. T. F. U. A. T. M. C. L. A. G. L. G. stands for. It’s all about the intrigue.”
Lux blinked and quickly glanced away before he could read her face. According to his lesson in mystery, he did not need to know that she knew what all those letters stood for.
Once she felt composed, she asked. “And when am I allowed to put all these questions to rest?”
Scott’s eyes darkened slightly. “Once he’s invested in you. When you’re actually dating.”
“And until then I’m to blather on about inane topics?”
“Until then, you are to wow him with your witty dialogue, which is the next lesson on the agenda for this evening.”
“And if witty banter isn’t my strong suit, then what?”
Scott’s hand gently cupped her cheek, his touch sending a flutter through her. “If words aren’t your forte, then being exceptional in…other areas can be just as captivating.”
Lux felt a rush of emotions at Scott’s touch, a gesture that was both unexpected and unsettling and sending mixed signals to her lady parts. She slapped away his hand. “You want conversation, I’ll give it to you.” Her mind raced for something intriguing to say.
“I’m waiting.”
“Did you know Lake Superior is the perfect place to dump a body?”
Scott looked charmed. “And why is that?”
“Because the bacteria that causes bodies to float doesn’t survive in Lake Superior’s cold-ass waters.”
He laughed, a genuine sound that made Lux’s heart flutter. “Morbid, but excellent. You’ve managed to entertain and show depth simultaneously.”
She nodded, feeling a mix of accomplishment and anticipation. “What’s next?”
“Tomorrow night, we go out. You’ll put all this to the test while I observe,” Scott said, a hint of challenge in his voice.
“And where will we meet?”
“We’ve been invited to a Flirtation Gala. Did you not receive the invitation?”
She shook her head. “I did not.”
“I’ll send you the details. We will arrive separately and will not interact. It will be your opportunity to apply what I’ve taught you—to set up dates with rakes for the remaining days.”
“And if I fail to get a date?” The prospect of actually courting a rake sent a shiver of dread through her. “What then?”
“Then I will step in and arrange one for you.”
The sudden realization that their sessions—and their connection—might soon end doused her mood like cold water. The idea should have been a relief, yet it left an inexplicable hollow inside her. Frankie’s caution echoed in her mind, a bell tolling a warning.
“I can hardly wait to stumble through this and finally be free from our delightful little charade.” She had meant it to sound indifferent, casual, but the words were a shield, hastily erected to guard against an unexpected ache.
Scott’s reaction was subtle—the slightest stiffening of his posture, the barest dimming of his eyes. It was clear that her barbed words had found their mark. His own walls, usually so invisible, rose visibly between them. “Now that we’re done with your lessons for the evening, shall we order dinner, or would you prefer to call it a night?” His cool, detached voice mirrored her feigned disinterest.
The air around them grew thick.
“I’m sorry. What I said was rude.” The apology spilled out, genuine and raw. She prided herself on kindness, and the bitter taste of her own harshness was a jarring reminder of that value. “I don’t want to call it a night. Not yet.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Then dinner?”
Lux’s pulse quickened with a sudden, daring impulse. “I have a better idea.”
The hurt in his eyes gave way to cautious intrigue. “And what might that be?”
Without breaking eye contact, Lux let her hand drift to his knee. “Let’s get out of here.” Thankfully, her voice came out steady…betraying none of the inner turmoil that set her pulse hammering.
But his lips pressed into a thin line, a silent rebuff that had her hand retracting as if burned.
She opened her mouth, intent on taking it back. “I’m—”
“Doc, I have plans for later this evening,” he cut in, voice even, but Lux caught the briefest flicker of something more behind his eyes.
Her mind scrambled, floundering for any lifeline in the wake of her blunder. What on earth had possessed her to make such an audacious move? This wasn’t a date. It was a coaching session, nothing more. They weren’t bonding. He wasn’t here because he wanted to be. “My bad,” she choked out, the words like gravel.
He ran a hand over his face—a gesture of weariness or frustration, perhaps both. “I’ll see you tomorrow night at the Flirtation Gala.”
Grasping at the threads of her composure, she forced a lightness she didn’t feel into her voice. “Who knows? Maybe the next guy I dare touch will actually appreciate the gesture, instead of having better plans.” Her smile was forced, but it would have to do.