Page 43 of Drive
“That dick just paid for two months of circulation,” he pointed out.
“Whatever, it’s disgusting,” I said as I pulled my arm from his grip.
“God, you’re pretty when you’re pissed. You’ve got to let me take you out and piss you off some more.”
Reid pressed past me through the double doors a moment later as Leslie rushed to the table to help the man who was still wiping at his pants.
I kept my eyes on smooth-talking Butler, who appeared to be anything but pissed. His hair looked a bit longer and was mussed up and sexy as hell. “Better get back before you lose that account. And lose my number.”
“Hey, hey,” he said as he gripped my hands in his. “I’m really happy to see you. Let me make it up to you. I’m sorry if he was rude to your friend.” He hesitated. “Boyfriend?” he asked with perfect lips and an arched brow.
“No,” I said, but felt a tug of senseless guilt with my answer.
Even with salsa on the crotch of his suit and a newly pink-tinted shirt, Nate was incredible to look at. I lingered a minute too long and he took it as a sign.
“Dinner tomorrow?”
“Lunch in five months,” I said with a grudge-filled grin before I nodded toward Reid, who was taking a new order. “And you better tip the hell out of him.”
Apparently, we were in negotiations, because Nate leaned in closer. “Lunch tomorrow, dinner in five months.”
“Five months, Nate. I don’t think you know what this means to me,” I said carefully. “I’m working on those articles every day.” Nate sighed and stepped away. “I’ll up the ante. Have the set ready in three. Austin City Limits is coming up, and if this works out, I’ll let you cover it.” Austin City Limits was a three-day festival filled with some of the biggest names in music. Going as a fan was one thing, but going as the press was an entirely different experience. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears.
“You’re serious?”
“Yes,” he said pointedly. “But I’m serious about my paper.”
“I know. And I’m serious about Don Henley.”
“W-w-what?” he said with an incredulous laugh, his brows pressed together.
I didn’t have time to explain my fascination with the Eagles’ drummer. I had tables waiting.
“Just three months?”
Nate nodded. “Three. I still can’t afford you.”
“Okay,” I said with a little bounce in my voice.
“Okay,” he said with a wicked grin. “Now, please excuse me while I go wash my balls free of cilantro and onions.”
I burst out laughing just as Reid came back through the door with a tray full of drinks. Nate approached him as I ran into the kitchen, screaming for Paige. My excitement was stifled by the bark of my name. “Stella.” Leslie, our manager who looked like my old softball coach with the shoulders of a linebacker, marched over to me.
“Yes?”
“Is there a reason you hurled a bucket of ice water and chips and salsa at our customers?” Reid was back in the kitchen, traying two plates, and I could see the smile on the side of his profile.
“I slipped.”
“Mia said you threw it.”
Mia. That little bitch had a huge crush on Reid and saw me as a threat. I saw her eye me often when Reid and I would huddle between tables, just bullshitting.
“Mia’s a liar, and she steals chips and salsa every night on her way out.”
Reid groaned in a way to tell me to shut up while I was ahead as he walked past us to grab some plates.
“Well, consider this your first warning.”
