Page 23 of Some Like It Hops
“Not as happy as he’s going to be.”
“Josephine, jeez.” I turn toward the mirror and assess. The black dress looks great on my waist and hips, and it’s low enough in the neckline to be sexy but not give away too much. I spin slowly to check out my ass. Definitely no panty lines now.
At a quarter ‘til seven, after I’ve finished my makeup and Josie’s curled my hair into long beachy waves, she pours herself a glass of wine and sits down on the couch. I look at the clock on the stove, then at her.
“What?” she asks.
“He’ll be here any minute.”
“So? He won’t even know I’m here.” She watches me, waiting, then sighs. “Ugh. Fine. I’ll go.” She downs the chardonnay, then sets her glass on the counter. “I’ll be back tomorrow for my clothes and the sordid details of yoursexcapade.”
“Josie.” My eyes widen. “It’s not like that.”
She snorts as she looks me up and down slowly. “Girl, if he doesn’t try to fuck you in that outfit, check his pulse.” She kisses my cheek, then opens the door. “And, by the way, he’s late.”
I glance at the clock again, even though I just looked at it a few minutes ago. “He has ten more minutes.”
“If you’re not early, you’re late.”
She closes the door and I pour the rest of the wine into Josie’s glass, then sip on it as I walk back into the bedroom. Her black suede pumps are uncomfortable, but it seems like I can walk in them without looking too much like a baby deer, so that’s a bonus. I stop in front of my mirrored closet door and give a little spin.
Jo’s right.
I’dfuck me in this outfit.
Chapter Twelve
Griffin
Fast Lane’s attorneys sit across from me at the large, mahogany conference table in the summit room. Javier tugs at one of his bushy eyebrows like he does when he’s deep in thought, and Chris types frantically on his laptop. Along the opposite end of the long table, Brad sets out the sushi that was delivered moments ago.
It’s going to be a long fucking night.
The head of Fast Lane’s public relations department settles into a seat to my left, leaving two empty chairs between us. Did she intentionally put that space between us? She hasn’t made eye contact with me since she arrived, and somehow, the fact that she’s disappointed in me irks me more than it should.
“I didn’t sleep with her, Raina.”
She pauses, her finger hovering over her tablet screen, then finally looks up and meets my gaze. “That’s none of my business, Mr. Lane. My job is to get in front of this before the tabloids get a hold of it.”
I purse my lips and give a curt nod. She probably doesn’t believe me anyway. And why would she? It’s no secret that I’ve been known to fuck and chuck with the best of them. Hell, I think I even slept with Raina’s daughter a time or two. Can’t be sure.
Brad places a plate of sushi before me, but I shake my head. My appetite disappeared when I opened that envelope, and I don’t see it returning anytime soon. I take a sip of Johnnie Blue instead.
When everyone’s situated with their laptops and notepads and plates full of sushi in front of them, Javier clears his throat and says, “Start at the beginning, Mr. Lane.”
I sigh, leaning back in my chair and placing my hands behind my head. “It happened after the holiday party. We left the club together. She lives between the club and the Tower, so it made sense that I’d give her a ride on my way home.”
“Whose idea was it?”
“What?” I shrug. “I don’t know. Mine?” I rub the back of my neck. “I was waiting at the valet and she came outside. She was tipsy, trying to get a Lyft, but the app kept force-closing on her.” I sigh.
“How did you know where she lived?”
I scowl. “I don’t fucking know—”
“You have to know, Mr. Lane. Her lawyers are going to ask you every single detail. They’re going to ask you anything and everything, try to slip you up. How did you know where Ms. Sutter lived? Do you make it a point of knowing where all of your employees reside?”
“Jesus, Javier,” Brad interrupts. “You’re treating him like he’s on trial.”
