Page 10 of Thoroughly Innocent Intent

“That’s my new client.” My voice sounds prim even to my own ears. Nevertheless, I continue, “I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t sexualize him.”

“Don’t take my fun away just because he’s not your type. Or because you’re a prude.” She points a wine-colored nail at me.

“Being discerning does not make me a prude.”

“I’m discerning,” Delaney corrects me with a pointed stare. “And even I’m willing to make exceptions. You’re still stuck on second base.”

“That’s not fair.” I deflate. Even though she’s right, I don’t need the reminder.

“Shit, you’re right.” She winces, looking guilty. “Look, I’d apologize for picking on your morals except that’s not the issue, is it?” she asks softly.

“What are you getting at?”

She studies me thoughtfully before answering. “In all the years I’ve known you, you’ve been out with, like, three guys. I know you don’t like women, and you’re more altruistic than religious, so you don’t have a moral or ethical objection to being with a man. But you avoid them. Why?”

“I’m not avoiding them. I’m not,” I insist when she shakes her head at me. “I just haven’t been overly drawn to one.” She doesn’t need to know that was true up until a few hours ago.

“Sam.” She grabs my hand. “Every time we get together, I bitch about my horrible dates, but at least I have dates. I’m trying. You’re not. I don’t want you to be lonely.”

“I’m not lonely. I have you, work…”

“That right there is my point.” She gives my hand a firm squeeze before pulling it back to her lap. “One friend, and work, no matter how fulfilling and wonderful they are,” she grins in an effort to lighten the mood, “should not be the only two things in your life.”

She’s pitying me again. She doesn’t mean to, but she sees my life as deprived when to me it’s just simple.

Delaney has always teased me about being an old soul because I’ve never been interested in the typical things my peers like. I hate being drunk, I’m not a sports fan, I’ll take a hike over a club any day, and as she already mentioned, I’ve only been out with three guys, neither of whom amounted to much.

Two of them were attractive enough. I felt a little spark when I looked at them, but both seemed overly eager to get to the physical part of dating, and I’m not the type to jump in bed with people I don’t feel a connection to. I know people do that all the time, and the way Delaney talks about casual sex makes me want to try it. But having someone I barely know touch me felt like an invasion. I couldn’t find any pleasure in it, which I think insulted the men.

The third guy I dated did take the time to build a connection with me, and I felt comfortable around him. But there was no spark, so the physical part was…tolerable. Less icky than when near strangers touched me, but not arousing. He wound up insulted too.

Needless to say, work has been more fulfilling than any relationship I’ve ever had, so that’s what I’ve focused on for the past few years, to Delaney’s dismay.

I’m lucky to have someone who wants to see me happy. I just wish she’d take my word for it that I am. I’m about to give Delaney my standard ‘I’m not lonely’ spiel when she suddenly gasps and leans forward.

“That’s it.” Her eyes sparkle devilishly.

“What’s it?” I cringe, knowing that look can’t be good.

“You need to put yourself out there, and the hottest bachelor in the city is your ticket.”

“You don’t…I can’t.” I feel myself choking for air. “What?” That must have come out as a shriek based on the dozen heads that swivel in my direction. Taking a deep breath and speaking as calmly as I can, I say, “Come again?”

“You heard me.”

“Are you seriously suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” I take a gulp of water to cool off the flush I know I’m now wearing.

“I seriously am.” She nods enthusiastically. “Think about it. He’s a notorious player so he’s bound to hit on you, and all you have to do is go with it.”

“Okay, first off.” I hold up my hand to stop her momentum, “He’s my client, which is a hard no. Second, as you’ve already noted he’s not my type, and I doubt I’m his. And third, in what world is a notorious player a good option for a prude like me?”

“I told you I was out of line about the prude thing,” she says softly. “And all I’m suggesting is that for a guy like Colt flirting is probably like breathing. Just flirt back. Get a feel for what it’s like to talk to a guy. About something other than work.” She adds before I can use that as my excuse.

“Even if I was willing to just ‘go with it.’” I air quote, “your epiphany still overlooks the fact that Colt is a client. I’m trying to build my business off my knowledge.”

“It’s just some harmless flirting. He probably won’t read anything into it.” She dismisses my concern with a nonchalant shrug. But I can’t be so cavalier. I felt something today, even if he didn’t, and I’m afraid if I attempt what she’s suggesting my lack of experience will lead me to misread things exactly the way I did earlier.

That’s an embarrassing episode I have no desire to repeat, which means following Delaney’s advice is not in my best interest. That said, the woman is nothing if not persistent, so the fastest way to get her onto another topic is to give in. Within reason, of course.

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