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Natalia watched her drive to the other side of the lot, where a few cars were parked around a food cart. Not even a truck. A cart. Natalia hadn’t noticed it until she drove closer.
The moment she parked, Samantha was at her door, opening it for her.
“Sorry I didn’t make a reservation,” Sam joked, jacket discarded and sleeves rolled up to her elbows to display surprisingly muscular forearms, one of which was covered in a sleeve of tattoos Natalia pretended didn’t spark her curiosity.
Natalia took her time getting out of the car. Luxuriated in the moments before she took a hatpin to Samantha’s gleeful bubble.
“Did you think you were going to shock me with hotdogs, Dr. Reyes?” Natalia asked like she wasn’t sauntering toward a food cart in a dark lot while wearing $4,000 Manolo Blahnik heels. “Have you made assumptions about what a woman like me wants?”
“I should stop doing that, huh?” Sam bit the inside of her cheek, gaze dripping over Natalia again. “I’ll admit that I have no idea what you want, other than the book we’re not talking about.”
“Oh, I want a lot of things,” Natalia said after ordering a hotdog and a soda. “Book included.”
Sam chuckled and ordered her own hotdog. Using the top of Natalia’s trunk for a table, they ate while standing. Natalia would have preferred something with an actual menu and valet parking, but she willed her feet not to hurt, and tried not to think about whether food carts were inspected by the health department.
“Knowledge is the key to dropping assumptions.” Samantha wiped her mouth with a napkin before balling it up and tossing it atop their mound of trash. “Tell me what made you get into this whole talent agent business.”
Natalia took a ladylike sip from her lukewarm can. “I was always drawn to the entertainment industry and wanted to help talented people achieve their dreams.”
Both of Samantha’s eyebrows flew up her creased forehead. “I’m impressed.” She dusted off her hands before leaning against the elbow she propped on the trunk. “You spoke an entire sentence without saying anything at all. Sure you’re not a lawyer?”
Natalia had excellent control over her facial expressions, and she engaged it all to stop from smirking. Samantha was sharp and quick to call out what she saw. They were the worst traits for negotiating any kind of deal, but Natalia couldn’t help the chemical reaction it set off in her body.
“What about you, Dr. Reyes? What made you want to be a gender studies college professor?” Natalia turned the question around without answering it. The point was to get Samantha to talk. To make her feel comfortable.
“Oh, that’s easy. I had such an unbearable crush on my college professor.” She tossed back her freshly dyed platinum hair. “I took every single class this woman taught. By the time I got to Interdisciplinary Perspectives in Women’s Studies, I realized I might as well make it my major. That left me with research and teaching and I’m much better at talking than statistical analysis.”
“Does that work for you?” Natalia asked, borrowing her language to use against her. “Being all rakish and cute? Someone as devoted and passionate about her work as you are, and you think I’d believe this was all the result of some childish whim? A crush?”
Samantha stepped closer, the cool breeze at Natalia’s back pushing her cologne away when all Natalia wanted was to inhale her again. “You have no idea how hard I fall, Ms. Flores. How far I’m willing to go?—”
“For an unobtainable crush?”
Samantha smirked, a light in her brown eyes dancing like a summer bonfire. “Who says I didn’t get her?”
“Bullshit,” Natalia snapped. “You’re a terrible liar.”
“How would you know anything about my lying skills? You’ve met me twice, and this is the longest we’ve ever spoken.” Sam feigned offense, but Natalia didn’t buy that either.
Natalia wasn’t going to reveal everything she’d learned by studying body language and psychology for the last twenty years, but she offered a sliver. “You spoke for an hour on that panel tonight and not once did the color rise on your neck. Not even when you were at your most ardent. We’ve been out here at least half an hour, and it’s windy and cool, so the heat cannot be responsible for your sudden flush — which is limited to your throat, I would remind you.” She drank the last of her soda. “Conclusion: you’re full of shit and did not sleep with your inappropriate crush.”
“Jesus, Natalia, you didn’t tell me you were a human lie detector,” she replied with a smile instead of being appropriately intimidated as most people were. “I sure did fantasize about her like crazy.” She turned to rest her back against the trunk and look up at the starless sky, her wistfulness for the subject of her infatuation stirring an unexpected jealousy in Natalia’s stomach. “Didn’t you ever have a crush like that?” She turned her attention toward her.
Natalia shrugged. “I had a thing for Sharon Stone.”
“Yeah, obviously. Who didn’t?” Sam stood upright. “But I mean a real one. Who did you want in real life that you just couldn’t have?”
Natalia counted the seconds while she held Sam in her gaze. Waited until she stopped smiling and was leaning in to learn what she was going to say. Natalia moistened her lips and leaned closer. “There’s no one I can’t get,” she said with complete conviction.
“Fuck,” Samantha whispered, signaling with a bright orange flare that she was clay warming in Natalia’s hands. “There is nothing hotter than confidence.”
Leaning away despite the urge to get closer, Natalia gave Samantha the opportunity to chase. Chasing was what Samantha wanted to do, whether she knew it or not. It wasn’t Natalia’s favorite role. She preferred to dispense with games entirely, but if that was what it took to get what she wanted, she was happy to play hard to get.
Sensing the opportunity for an aggressive move, Natalia started to clean up the remnants of their dinner.
“You’re not ready to go yet, are you?” Samantha glanced down at her smartwatch. “The night is still young.”
“I’m done standing in a parking lot suffering the aroma of boiling hot dog water.” She curled her fingers around her door handle, waited until Sam looked irreparably disappointed, and added. “Coming?”
