Page 16 of Last First Date
She stiffens and her mouth twists into something that’s probably supposed to look like a smile. “Well, that’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Professor Abernathy, the rich people whisperer.”
My lips curl up at her words. “Well then, what should I whisper in your pretty little ear, Miss Albrecht?”
“Quit it, Thomas. You’re trying to make me feel miserable, but it’s not going to work. It’s not my fault that I hate dating.”
Her words have a little bite in them, but I can see the flush darkening her neck and cheeks. Interesting. Seems like I’m having an effect on her despite all her protests to the contrary.
I lean away from her and give her a little more room to breathe. “I think the best way to do this is for me to give you a demonstration. You’re going to need to flirt with Hesse, and I’m going to show you how this type of woman flirts. All I have to do is walk over to the bar alone and you’ll see.”
She snorts, and I give her a very flat, all business look. “Do you really want my help with this or not, Darcy?”
I’m not normally a religious man, but I’m praying that she says no. I want her to admit that this is a stupid idea and that she hates it every bit as much as I do. She’s perfect just the way she is, and anyone who hasn’t noticed already is an idiot.
No, I’m the idiot for even going along with this mess in the first place. We should get out of here, go have a beer, and tell each other dirty jokes all night long. Get to know each other better. Become actual friends and maybe even really flirt with each other, instead of this weird and angry in between place we’re stuck in.
She swallows hard and I stand, ready to fist bump her in congratulations when she tells me, “Fine.”
Well, shit. I can’t let her see the disappointment that is searing through my veins right now. I stretch my mouth into something that I hope looks like a smile and nod at her once.
“Okay then. I’m going to show you everything you need to know in order to have your last first date with the very fancy Mister Kotner. And here we go.”
I reach over and tap a finger along the edge of her wine glass, right where her lipstick stain is pressed again the glass. “Drink that. Watch me.”
I push through the crowd toward the bar and lean against it. I don’t need to order a drink though. I need a buyer for what I’m selling. And I don’t have to wait long.
“Are you going to buy me a drink, handsome?” I see the girl’s long, red nails tracing up my forearm before I see the rest of her. Bleached, platinum hair. Teeth so white they can be seen from outer space. A piece of red silk glued onto her body. Giant fake tits that look more like flotation devices rather than breasts.
“Oh? Are you trying to get me drunk and take advantage of me, Miss Scarlet?” I flash her a salesman smile, and she’s eating out of the palm of my hand just like that.
I run a fingertip across the girl’s fingers, gently removing her talons from my flesh and redirecting her to the relative safety of the bar. “What are you drinking?” I lean in close, giving her both the illusion of interest and a clear view of my pecs.
But honestly, I couldn’t care less about the living Barbie doll in front of me. My eyes slide past her to rest on Darcy, whose mouth is pinched up like she’s sucking on a lemon. Huh. Guess she really doesn’t like wine.
She catches me looking at her and swivels to turn her entire body away from me. Well, I guess we’ll have to discuss eye contact as soon as I untangle myself from the octopus standing next to me.
I nod to my usual server. She nods back and slides a glass of my usual pick up drink over to where I’m standing. I slide it over to the woman next to me making her play. She beams at me like I’ve handed her a trophy, when we all know it’s just a glass of the house white.
“Ooh, you knew just what I wanted. I can tell you’re that kind of man.” Her pointy fingernails rise again to fiddle with my shirtsleeves, and the slight scrape of them across my skin makes me really uncomfortable.
Like skin crawling in horror uncomfortable. Or throw up a little bit in my mouth uncomfortable. I can’t believe I used to spend most of my free time being chased by and then bedding women exactly like this one.
I finally get around to asking her name, but then proceed to tune out as she starts talking about herself.
My eyes slide past her carefully made-up face with the too big lips to Darcy, who’s still at the table where I left her, but now there’s a man sitting across from her. He’s in a slick looking suit with pinstripes and a red tie with a paisley print that I can see from way over here.
I flex my fingers and hands. I can’t help the wave of anger that sweeps over me as I watch Steve Garretson trying to hit on Darcy while I’m over here at the bar.
It’s so obvious that he was waiting for me to leave and then he swooped in to make his move. And I’m stuck here trying to untangle myself from this stage five clinger and yet still somehow hold up my end of the bargain with Darcy.
Because that’s the real issue. She doesn’t want me. She just wants me to show her how women like this operate. She’s in the market for the kind of guy that her fancy mother approves of, and that’s definitely not me, the roughneck rookie who used to practice law.
But you know who does approve of me? Women like the one in front of me, who is still talking about something or other. She’s only paying attention to me because she likes my rich guy veneer or because she’s heard from someone that I’m good in bed. Fine.
But whenever a woman like this is giving me her sales pitch about why I should take her home for the night, I can’t help but think about what it would be like to be with someone who didn’t view me as a commodity.
What if I could really talk to a woman? Have her find out that she likes me as a human being, not just the flash and show that I give to anybody? It’s impossible probably. I’m nothing but a good time and a fat wallet to the women around here.
Except Darcy. At least I’m not those things to her.
