Page 6 of Risk

Carson shakes his head and chuckles before bringing his attention back to me. “How did you get it all out from between your toes?”

I lean in with my shoulders slumped. “It took forever, man. That shit’s not easy to get off and it leaves an oily residue, so I had to wash my ankles and feet like ten times before I could go to work. It took an entire container of sugar scrub to get it all off.”

The server hands over my full glass. “Thanks.” I wait for him to leave and when he doesn’t, I flash a huge cheesy smile and make it awkward. He finally gets the hint and walks away, thank God. “So anyway, that’s why I didn’t get out of my full makeup. It just slipped my mind. Then there I am, at the condo for my first cleaning of the day, wondering why the doorman was acting so weird when he saw me.”

Mak’s eyes light up. “Ohhh, was it the fancy condo with the ten-person marble shower and disco lights?”

“No. It’s the condo with the guy who’s never there.” I drain my glass halfway. “I’m just jamming out, you know, minding my biz and doing my thing, and I go into the bathroom and scare the absolute shit out of myself when I see my reflection with those damn whiskers.”

Mak cackles, and I swear everyone in the restaurant turns to stare at us.

“This is the best story ever,” she says.

“It gets worse.”

Her eyes widen. “How can it get worse?”

Part of me doesn’t want to tell them the whole story, but Mak’s my best friend and, honestly, Carson’s just as close to me now. If anyone gets to share my pain, it’s them. “The client was home, and I didn’t know it.”

“Oh noooo.” Mak covers her face. “Tell me he’s hot, single, and loves bunnies.”

“He’s hot and huge and…” The rest jams in my throat because it’s like talking about that guy has summoned him from the lost city of Atlantis. My entire body freezes as Mason Finch saunters across the restaurant and over to a table in the back corner.

“Leah,” Mak says cautiously. “What’s wrong?”

My mouth waters. I can’t pull my eyes from him. My jaw drops. When Carson and Mak both turn to see what’s enraptured me, I hiss, “Don’t look!”

Mak doesn’t listen. “Who are we not looking at?” she whisper-yells back.

Carson sighs. “I have a feeling Mr. Hot and Huge is here, isn’t he?”

“Yup.”

“I don’t think he sees us,” Mak whispers.

Carson places his hand on her head and turns her back around. “You’re being obvious.”

To prove Carson right, Mason takes a seat and looks right at me from clean across the restaurant.

This can’t be happening.

“Oh shit. He’s looking at you, isn’t he? Your cheeks are turning bright red.”

I want to die.

Mason’s gaze lingers for only a couple more seconds, then it drifts around the rest of the room and falls to the table setting. He’s got a drink in his hand already, and as he sits alone, he runs his finger along the rim of the glass.

Throughout dinner, I keep flicking my gaze over to him. I can’t help it. He’s just so pretty.

And looks so lonely.

“Would anyone care for dessert?” The server pulls out his pen and pad. “The tiramisu is incredible here. As are our gelatos.”

“I’m stuffed.” Carson rubs his belly. “You ladies want something?”

Mak wipes her mouth with a napkin. “No, I can’t put one more thing in my body.”

“Pity,” Carson mumbles playfully.

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