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We made inane small talk, all the time keeping an eye on Paulo. In return, he was glancing at me, thinking he was being subtle but failing entirely. I understood why—Darla didn’t make a habit of chatting to men, and Paulo had a good heart. He wanted me to be happy. He just didn’t understand that I was more likely to find joy on a firing range than in a fancy restaurant.
Finally, he sidled over.
“Building shelves is faster than I thought.” Said the man who’d yet to pick up a screwdriver. “But that counter’s way too plain. Can we paint it?”
“Yes, but go easy on the glitter. Nobody wants it stuck to their clothes.”
Alex finished tightening the last screw and straightened. If we’d been alone, I would have tested his construction skills by having him fuck me on his handiwork, but we had an audience. Teamwork had its cons as well as its pros.
I held out a hand. “Well, thank you, Alex. You and your friends sure did speed things up.”
“It was a pleasure. If you’re in town for a week, do you want to get lunch sometime?”
“Lunch?”
“I know a good burger place near here.”
Paulo was standing to the side of my dearly beloved, mouth open and hands pressed to his cheeks. “Say yes!” he mouthed, then pointed at Alex’s ass. “OMG.”
“I’ll have to check my schedule, but maybe you could give me your number?”
Now Paulo was waving his arms like an Italian grandma, but Alex just smiled.
“Sure.”
Once Team Blackwood had disappeared back to the firing range, or the assault course, or the drop zone, or wherever they usually spent a Thursday afternoon, Paulo found his tongue again.
“Are you crazy?” he asked. “Do you have a fever? That Adonis was asking you out on a date, and you have to check your schedule?”
“A date? Do you really think so?”
“Duh, yes.”
“I figured he was just being friendly because I’m new to the area. Well, I have staff to interview and suppliers to speak with.”
“Hello, priorities? He has buns of titanium.”
“You shouldn’t objectify people like that, hun.”
“Oh, don’t be such a party pooper. I’m sure he has a nice personality too.”
“He seems pleasant.”
“So you’re going to call him?”
“Possibly.”
“Possibly?”
“Probably.”
He trotted off, singing, “Darla’s going on a date, Darla’s going on a date,” and Marisol shot me a look of sympathy. I decided I liked her. My phone buzzed a moment later.
Alex
What time are you planning to finish at the store tonight?
Me
