“He said he didn’t have a girlfriend. Several times. He followed me around the house and kept repeating it until I believed him. I do believe him, I do. But that woman… How could he have been with her? She was awful.”
Her hands shot out in awho fucking knowsgesture. “People do stupid things and make mistakes, especially when it comes to sex. I’ve done it plenty.”
“You’ve never slept with your boss.”
“If I had one who looked like Murray, I might,” she shot back with a grin.
“It’s still a stupid idea. And I have two months left there.”
She sat back, twisting the stem of her champagne flute between her fingers. “You didn’t even want the job anyway, so if something starts to properly develop between you, then find him a new nanny and quit. If he’s that into you, then he’ll go along with it.”
She may as well have been voicing aloud thoughts I only had when I allowed myself the fantasy. “I dunno. I don’t even know want he wants with all this. I don’t know what any of it means.”
“Speaking as someone who’s dated plenty and never received fifty roses of any color, I’d say he likes you.” She may as well have told me one plus one equals two, with the tone she was using.
My mind went back to the past few days, even the past few weeks, because if I really thought about it, that almost kiss didn’t come out of nowhere. He hadn’t given a single shit that I’d caught him wearing nothing but a towel, and the smirk on his face from my reaction wasn’t arrogance or the look of someone who was used to women salivating over his naked body. No, it was… pride? Happiness? Relief?
So maybe he did like me.
Maybe.
“Do you think that comment from Jackson Foggerty was about me?”
“Absolutely.”
“As in more than just because I’m always with Bell?”
“Yes. It’s because Jackson Foggerty is undoubtedly a sleaze, as much as it pains me to say it.”
Her exaggerated sad face made me laugh, loosening the tight churning in my gut. “Yeah. I’m sorry your day has sucked as much as mine.”
“That’s okay, I’ll get over it.” She rubbed her hands together, “But let’s try to forget about them and get on with our evening, because we both look smoking hot and we’re not wasting it by mooning over stupid boys. We’re here to have fun.”
Which is how we found ourselves sharing our table with group of guys who’d waltzed straight in and sat down next to us like they owned the place, and apparently this was their usual table. Payton and I didn’t correct them, nor did we move, but every few minutes she threw me a look which told me exactly what she thought about them. The guy next to Payton was waving around his platinum Amex and talking to her about stock, and she was listening like it was the most fascinating thing she’d ever heard.
It wasn’t.
I’d initially had the pleasure of sitting next to Mike in the pink striped shirt, who was much less vocal about his bank balance and couldn’t stop looking at my legs. But then he left after seeing someone he knew, and his place was taken by Blake, the one I’d decided was the most genuine, and probably would have been interested in if his eyes hadn’t been a shade of green joltingly similar to Murray’s, but without the shine and sparkle. Although when he moved nearer, I realized they were more of a sludgy khaki which was nothing like Murray’s, but then I had Murray on the brain, and no matter how hard I tried to follow what Blake was saying and listen with rapt enthusiasm, I couldn’t stop myself from comparing the size of his biceps – smaller – the broadness of his chest – smaller – the width of his shoulders – smaller – with Murray.
Have you ever noticed how easy it is to get drunk when someone else is doing all the talking? The bottle of champagne was long gone, so were the two rounds of tequila sodas.
“I’d love to take you out,” Blake’s body shifted nearer to mine, his arm going round the back of my chair. “Are you free this weekend?”
“Yes, she is,” slurred Payton, ungluing herself from Platinum Amex guy for a second before resuming her position.
“I’m not actually. I’m going out of town for Easter weekend.”
Even though it was true, it sounded like a blatant lie after Payton’s outburst.
“Nice, where are you going?”
“The Hamptons.”
“Me too! Let me take you out.” The excitement in his voice would have been endearing if I’d been able to focus properly, less to do with the alcohol and more to do with the man I knew would be waiting for me at home
“I don’t know what the plans are yet, I’m not sure if I’ll have time.”
He ran his hands through his thick, dark curls. “Can I have your number? I’ll message you and you can decide if you’re free.”