Page 31 of Mr. Hotshot CEO
“Well, since you’re stinking rich, you could hire a private instructor.”
Dear Lord. Courtney better not meet the rest of my family. I’m terrified of the plans they’d come up with.
“Do people even scrapbook anymore?” I ask. “Don’t they just make photo books online?”
She shrugs. “Dunno. I don’t make scrapbooks, but that doesn’t mean nobody else does. We could learn! Together!”
“No scrapbooking.”
What do single men my age usually do for fun? Watch sports and drink beer and play videogames, I assume. But instead, I asked a woman to teach me how to have fun because...
Well, it’s pretty obvious why I asked this particular woman.
Single men in their thirties probably also spend a lot of time figuring out how to have sex. Since Courtney declined my advances last night, I won’t push it, although the idea is definitely appealing. I have a strong urge to roll on top of her and kiss her to prevent further talk about scrapbooking, of all things.
My phone beeps, and Courtney looks at the message and smiles. I bet it’s from Vince.
No, no, no.I do not like the idea of my brother making her smile, even if he’s promised not to touch her. I grab the phone out of her hand.
She giggles and reaches for it, but my arms are longer than hers, and I manage to keep it out of her reach, then put it in my pocket.
She climbs on top of me. I’m still lying on my back, but I’m sure as shit not trying to find shapes in the clouds, not when a woman in straddling me. When she reaches for the phone again, I clamp a hand over my pocket before she can get there. I look up into her dark brown eyes. Even if I couldn’t see her pretty mouth, I’d be able to tell she was smiling from her eyes.
“Gotcha!”
Dammit. She grabbed the phone out of my pocket while I was distracted by her beauty.
I’m afraid this is going to be a recurring problem.
Also, she’s soon going to notice that I’m aroused.
I sigh. “Fine. I’ll let you keep my phone for now.” I pick her up and put her on the ground. “But tell me what Vince said.”
“Just ‘Keep up the good work!’ Don’t worry, he wasn’t flirting with me.”
“Were you flirting with me when you climbed on top of me?” I can’t help myself.
And I can’t help but be pleased when she exhales unsteadily.
“No.” She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “It was just the most efficient way to get your phone back, that’s all.”
Yeah, sure it was.
* * *
At Broadview and Gerrard, there’s a small collection of Chinese restaurants and stores called Chinatown East, not to be confused with “regular” Chinatown on Spadina, or the Chinese plazas in Markham, Richmond Hill, and Mississauga. I haven’t been here in years.
Courtney heads into a Chinese bakery with cheerful red décor.
“What do you want?” she asks.
I’m about to shrug and say I don’t need anything, but then something catches my eye.
“A pineapple bun.” I can’t remember the last time I had one.
She smiles at me and takes two out of the bin with a pair of tongs.
“I’ll pay for them,” I say, heading to the counter. I’m going to pay for everything this weekend and spoil her with things she might otherwise be unable to afford.
