Page 11 of Seductive Desires

We were both still staring out the window at the spot that Mateo had disappeared from. I scoffed, turning away from him to head back into the kitchen. I needed to work on the invoice.

“Mariana!”

“Why should I? You didn’t want to hear from me before!”

He hesitated before following after me. “Okay, alright. You’re right. I was a jerk. I’m sorry. I was surprised by the email and when I called him, he went on a full blown rant. It really freaked me out and I took it out on you. I’m sorry!”

My back was to him, facing the counter but I could hear the sincerity in his voice. It still stung though. Carlos never yelled at me. He stepped up to my side, bumping my hip lightly.

“So…” I rolled my eyes. He was practically salivating. He’s known me for a long time, and this was way out of left field. He nudged me again, leaning to flash me a pout. “Come on… you know you want to spill…”

I twisted my mouth, hiding my smile. “You’re a real jerk, you know that.”

“I am aware. Andrew tells me all the time when I forget important dates. Who celebrates their six month anniversary every year?”

I snorted. Andrew was a hopeless romantic, so everything he could make into a celebration, he would. You wouldn’t know it looking at him. He was pretty quiet, worked in an office, and never made a fuss at anyone. Not unless you were Carlos and you forgot to buy him flowers on your ‘the day we met’ anniversary.

Carlos pushed his way in front of me, grinning. “Spill. I need to know.”

I raised my eyebrows at him. I really enjoyed tormenting him when I had information he wanted. He was the worst gossip on the planet. When he laced his fingers and gave me his puppy dog eyes, I chuckled. Throwing my hands into the air, I started pacing the studio. “What do you want to know?”

He bounced over to me, cutting off my path. “Did you two…?” He waggled his eyebrows at me. When I refused to answer, he squealed. “No way! Mateo Ramirez? That’s crazy, chica!” He slapped my arm and I rubbed at it, soothing the sting.

“Shut up.”

“I mean, seriously, Mari. Talk about shooting for the stars! He’s been on the most eligible bachelor’s list for years!”

Ugh. I was aware of that. It was in all the magazines Carlos bought. “I know, I know. He’s way out of my league.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. You looked hot last night. Today… not so much.” At my scandalized gasp, he snickered, running away from me. “Hey, look at it this way. You look a hot mess and he still threw you up against the wall. That’s saying something, right?”

I stomped to the bathroom, looking at myself in the mirror. I had managed to clean off my makeup from last night but hadn’t bothered to put more on this morning. I figured if I wasted time, Carlos would only be more pissed. My hair was once again everywhere. Mateo couldn’t seem to keep his hands out of it and the bun was falling out. I pulled it out and redid it.

“Sooooo…. How was it?” He leaned against the doorframe.

“Nope.”

“Oh come on!”

“Don’t you have work to be doing?”

He just snorted at me. “It’s my studio, I can do what I want. Like continually bug my best friend until she tells me how the sex was between her and the hot millionaire. All. Day. Long.”

I pretended to ignore him, going over the paperwork for Mateo’s purchase. When I saw the fee he wrote down, I froze. “Holy shit.”

“I know! We’ll be able to move to a proper gallery and still have some left over with that kind of money!” He was gushing, bouncing beside me. “I wonder how much more he’s planning to pay for delivery.”

I scowled, remembering that he wanted me to deliver it personally. “I still don’t want to do it.”

“Why the hell not?” Carlos frowned. “You were practically fucking against the wall but you can’t be bothered to bring him a painting?”

I crossed my arms, leaning back against the counter. “The fact that he’s demanding it, for one thing. I don’t even get a choice if we want the extra money he offered. Besides, it makes me feel weird, like he’s paying me to come see him. Like some high class whore.”

“Yes, but one of those really nice ones, you know, that only serves the wealthy elite.” When I glared at him, his face softened. “Okay, okay. I get it. When you put it that way, it’s a little weird. But if he’s willing to pay this much for a painting, how much extra is he offering for delivery? We aren’t really in a place in our lives where we can turn our noses up at money like that.”

I ground my teeth, my eyes unfocused. I don’t like being manipulated.

“How about this? You have to call his assistant anyway to schedule a drop off time. Why not ask her when he’s busy and show up then. You’ll still drop it off personally but he won’t be around to get his way.”

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