Page 27 of Sexy

But then she licks her lips.

Wait. Did I just imagine that?

Nope. She’s chewing on them too. And then her fingertip sweeps up and traces her plump lower lip as she casually pretends to wipe away a drop of the pink champagne Mr. Fancy-Pants greeted her with. Pink champagne? Who the fuck drinks pink alcohol?

Britt comes to their table with plates of lobster tail and a new bottle of champagne. She laughs with them and I get a little pissed off.

Is Tiffy practicing my seduction tips on that guy? That guy? Really? He’s like ten years older than her. He’s huge. Like six foot four at least. And he’s got to weigh two-twenty. I bet he shops at Big & Tall. She cannot be serious. No way is she interested in him.

And that just pisses me off more. Because, oh, hell the fuck no. I do not dish out trade secrets to a one-night stand only to have her go use them on a worthless prospect. Anyone can see he’s all wrong for her. He is not a possibility. Not at all.

I sit there at my table, sipping my beer as I process what’s happening and how I feel about it. I’m not jealous. I’m not. I’m pissed off. Why the fuck did I give her tips? I charge good money for that shit. Hell, I made Katie sign a six-week contract and I haven’t even given her one tip yet.

And yet Miss My Father Owns This Town is practically giving them away to every wandering eye in the whole place.

And that’s a lot of wandering eyes. All the employees know who she is by now. Britt is chatting them up like they are old friends, probably taking notes.

There it is again. Holy fuck, Tiffy just licked her lips and practically winked at that guy. And Britt saw the whole thing as she set down a dainty cup of chocolate mousse in front of two-timing Preston.

Hell the fuck no. I never let my clients work my magic here at the casino. Otherwise I might lose business. Hell, I’ve helped more than one cocktail waitress hook a rich dude over the past nine months. They paid dearly for it. And signed a NDA. Trade secrets are trade secrets. And I have spent years coming up with my methods. I’m not gonna let her get away with practicing them on this asshole for everyone to see.

I push away from the barstool, straighten my t-shirt, and walk over to ask her just what the fuck she thinks she’s doing.

Chapter Eleven

“Do you want some?” I ask Cole, spooning out some chocolate mousse from the little dish they serve it in here. “It’s so good.” I pop the spoon in my mouth, savor the taste—which is not that good, but I’m working it—and then lick my lips and trace a fingertip daintily over a small spot of misplaced chocolate.

His eyes are trained on my mouth, just like Fletcher said they’d be. Damn, he was right about all of it. Cole has been responding to every trick. Not in an obvious way, of course. He’s reserved. And you don’t go from little sister to sexy girlfriend in one thirty-minute business lunch.

“Uh… ah… no, thanks, Tiffy.” But he smiles warmly at me, then his gaze darts back down to my lips as I give them one last swipe with my tongue. “So the account in Reno is good. I took care of that little issue. But”—he smiles and shakes his head—“we’re a big corporation. And San Francisco is having issues with the new merger. Your father called me while I was in Reno and filled me in. He might need us to go back there and lend a hand.”

Shit. I’m just getting started here with Fletcher’s tips. If we go back to San Francisco, then we go back to our old life. Cole will never start seeing me in a new light if my father is there running interference. My father isn’t exactly a jerk to my boyfriends—when I have one—but he’s one of those overprotective types. He’s always warned me about people who will like me for my money and not myself.

Cole is wealthy. He’s from a very rich family with old money, like us. So Cole wouldn’t be an issue in that department. But my father sees Cole as a family member. He’s never hinted that we’d make a good couple. So it’s much better to make this change away from home.

“Can’t we do it remotely? I mean, a video call is pretty much the same thing as being there.”

“Maybe,” Cole says.

My optimism soars.

And then I see him.

Fletcher Novak is walking this way.

Shit. He’s got a look on his face that I can’t exactly read because I don’t know him that well, but it doesn’t look happy.

“Miss Preston,” he says. Cole’s back is to him as he approaches, so Cole has to turn in his seat. “Nice to see you again. You’re positively glowing today. What happened to make you so happy?”

“Ah…” I laugh and dart my eyes to Cole. “Well, I’m just happy to be having lunch with my favorite co-worker.” I beam a smile at Cole.

“Can we help you with something?” Cole asks with a hint of suspicion in his voice. “I mean, I’m not sure it’s a good idea for us to socialize, Mr. Novak. I’m sure you can understand after your allegations last night.”

Oh, shit. Fletcher’s got a weird look on his face. Like he’s about to say something I might not like.

“Tiffy and I worked—”

“Fletcher?” All our heads turn to a blonde girl as she grabs Fletcher by the arm and spins him around. She’s seething mad. Her lips are pressed tightly together and she’s clenching her jaw. “I called your room earlier, but they said you weren’t there.”