Page 2 of Upshot

“I might be in over my head.” I can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up. “Seriously, I’m not sure I have enough game for a fashion model,” he adds. He’s more than just cute, he’s charming to boot.

“I don’t believe that for a moment. I think you might just surprise us both.” I smile my most dazzling smile, which he returns in full. I love that smile. It’s good enough to melt panties. His eyes even seem to have that magical twinkle in them that you only read about in books. How did I miss that his eyes are a beautiful smoky jade before?

“I think you’re blowing smoke,” he says. “But it’s working. Can I buy you another drink?” Rand motions for the bartender to bring us both another round. When our drinks arrive, I take another big sip.

“So, where do you call home when you’re not jetting off to real estate conferences?” I ask.

“It sounds sexier than it is.” He laughs. “I live in California, San Francisco specifically. I grew up in Pacific Heights. How about you? Where do you hang your hat?”

“New York right now. I’m originally from a tiny town in Texas that no one’s ever heard of. What type of real estate do you specialize in?” I pick up my glass to take another drink before realizing it’s empty again. Rand motions for round three, which is delivered promptly.

“We have our hand in a little bit of everything. Right now, my team is focusing on buying up old warehouses and converting them into something that the community can use. We build storefronts, condos, and offices.” Rand slowly trails off. “Anyway, that’s what I do.”

“And you learn to do this at conferences?”

“No.” He laughs. “It was my turn to attend the Realtors Association annual convention. We take turns every year. Usually, I do anything to get out of it. I think I’m glad I came this year though.”

“What’s different about this year?”

“The scenery is much better,” he says, finishing his drink. “Especially tonight.”

Am I blushing? I’ll just cover it with another drink. Damn, where has martini number three gone? I’m feeling a little tipsy, but I can sleep it off on the plane back tomorrow. I motion for the bartender to bring us a refill. At least Rand is keeping up with me.

“Do you come to Phoenix every year?” I ask.

“No, it moves around. Last year it was in Chicago. I would rather have gone to that one. I like Chicago, even if it is a bit windy.” I laugh. Rand is funny. Or is that the martini? Doesn’t matter. I pick up the next glass and take a sip.

“We might need to slow down a bit,” Rand adds. “I don’t know about you, but I think I’ve lost feeling in my nose.” I laugh even harder. Rand is a freaking riot.

“So, how long are you in sunny Arizona for?” I’m pretty sure that came out as a slur.

“One more day, and it’s back to sunny NoCal.” Well, at least his words are starting to slur also. Or is that just the fuzziness in my ears? Is it my imagination, or does he just keep getting prettier? Prettier is a funny word. Maybe it’s more pretty. That’s it, Rand is getting more prettier.

“What’s so funny?” he asks with a smile. God, that smile is the most prettiest thing ever.

“I find it hilarious that someone keeps making our drinks disappear,” I say in a loud whisper in his ear. My hand lands on his chest to keep me from falling off my stool. Whoa, that’s some hard muscle under that suit. “It’s a conspiracy.”

“The government at its most fiendish.” There’s a twinkle in his eyes that only enhances the green. Pretty, prettier, prettiest. “Let me see what I can do.” Rand motions for another round.

“Hey, you two. I think this should be your last round,” the bartender says, delivering the drinks. He’s no fun. “I know you’re staying here,” he adds, nodding toward Rand. “How about you, sweetheart? Where are you staying?”

“I’m here.” Fishing my room card out of my clutch, I wave it at him. “See, room 423.”

“Okay,” the bartender says, smiling at me. He’s pretty too. “But I still think you both need to call it a night.” He picks up our empty glasses and moves back down the bar.

“Darn, we were just getting to know each other too,” I pout. I am a master at pouting. It’s a necessary skill if you’re the youngest of three sisters.

“Well, you can come up, and I can make us some coffee?” Rand throws out.

I narrow my eyes at him. “Excuse me, how many women have you used that line on over the years?”

He holds his hands out in surrender. “Just coffee, I promise. Unless you want to sift through the minibar.” He shrugs innocently.

“Hmm, I don’t know.” I pretend to study him. “Your face seems innocent. But the rest of your body? Simply sinful.” He blushes a deep red. How harmful can a man who blushes like that really be? “Okay, Mr. Temptation, but remember, if I disappear, the bartender knows who you are.”

Lord, I know that alcohol loosens tongues, but this is ridiculous. Picking up my fifth and last martini, I clank my glass against his before throwing back my drink. Setting the empty glass back on the bar, I stand from the barstool, swaying slightly.

“Let’s do this,” I announce.

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