Page 11 of Tell Me Something

“Well, that’s one of the issues. He’s gorgeous, like seriously hot, like I-get-tongue-tied attractive.”

Before I knew it, she was on her phone and then flashing a picture of Josh Singer my way. “Is this him?”

Nodding, I took her phone and sighed. “Oh, yeah, that’s him.”

“Holy shit, he’s smoking hot. What kind of offer is it?” She narrowed her eyes, and I rolled mine.

“A professional one. Sheesh.”

She laughed and took my hand as we got out of the cab in front of the club. We then proceeded to the front of the line and toward the VIP entrance. “Sorry, honey. You know I didn’t mean any disrespect. Although if I’m being honest, a nonprofessional offer from a guy who looks like that could be interesting, too. He’s like tie-me-up-and-use-a-flogger-on-me gorgeous.”

I shook my head, knowing Angela had an affinity for those types of books. But yeah, he was kind of tie-me-up hot. And I’d have to google what the hell a flogger was.

“So, do you want my opinion? DO IT,” she shouted as we entered the loud club.

I could only smile. Then we made our way into the vibrating center.

A FEW DRINKS LATER, I watched Angela meet up with one of her coworkers while I thought about the one question I couldn’t shake.

I was sure I’d regret texting him later, but at one o’clock in the morning, four drinks in, it seemed like a great idea. “Why me?”

I was surprised at how quickly he texted back.

“Where are you?”

Smiling, I thought about Josh in a place like this. An image of Mr. Conservative bumping and grinding made me giggle. “Out at a club.”

“How much have you had to drink?”

It was tempting to ask what he was wearing, but even in my drunken mindset I knew that was over the top. “A few. You didn’t answer my question.”

As I waited for his text back, I felt my phone vibrate with an incoming call instead. Oh, shit, it had to be Josh. The music was deafening, but I answered anyhow.

“Hello,” I shouted and could barely hear his response. “Hold on.”

I found Angela, who was happily lip-locked with a guy from her office, and told her I was making my way home. She smiled, telling me not to wait up. Good for Angela, I thought, walking outside.

The cooler air hit me, and I realized I was still holding my phone with Josh on the other end. “Um, are you still there?” I wondered for a moment if he’d actually called.

“Yes, I’m here. Where are you?” At least he didn’t sound annoyed.

“It’s a club called Fancy. Downtown. I’m about to catch a cab home.” My feet were killing me.

“Stay there. I’ll be by in a few minutes and drive you.”

Did I hear him correctly? “No, no, it’s late. I’m fine to take a cab.” It began to sink in that I was talking to the owner of the company I worked for, and I started to freak out a bit.

“I’ll give you a ride, so wait for me out front. I mean it.”

He didn’t leave room for me to argue, and when he pulled up ten minutes later, I had to fight my anxiety. After opening the passenger door, I slid in.

“Jesus, you call that a skirt?” That was the first thing out of his mouth.

I should have been offended, but instead I started giggling. “It’s a club skirt, and mine is long compared to some.”

As if on cue, two women came out in skimpier attire.

He only raised a brow and muttered something about being too old.