Page 6 of Sexy

Bite to eat, Fletcher? What the fuck are you talking about? This is a booty call, not a date.

“I already ate. I typically do that at dinner time.” She smiles all flirty-like again.

“Oh. OK. Well, we have different ideas about dinnertime, I guess. I work late, so you know”—Why am I defending myself?—“I eat late too.”

“What do you usually do when you knock on a patron’s door after the show?”

I let out a nervous laugh. “Well, you know, I don’t really do this often.”

“No? So I’m special?”

“I picked you out of a crowd of hundreds of screaming women. So yeah, Tiffy.” I use her name and it catches her off-guard. She looks surprised that I remembered. “You’re special.”

“It might’ve been because I was sitting in the front center table. Maybe I was just the first girl you saw?”

Oh, I get it. She is insecure. She wants me to make her think this might lead to more than just a one-night fuck. But I can tell by her body language she wants to fuck me just as much as I want to fuck her. She just wants me to work for it.

Well, I can work for it. I’m not a total douchebag. So I swipe a finger gently down her cheek and tuck one of those long flowing strands behind her ear. “You were the prettiest girl in that crowd, I guess.” And it’s not a lie. She is totally different from the kind of girl who usually shows up to see the Mountain Men dance. More put-together. More professional. Not there for anything other than curiosity. In fact, I bet the gay friend wanted to go to the show and dragged her along for the ride.

“God,” she laughs. “You are a player, Mr. Novak.”

“I can play,” I say softly, leaning in to kiss her lips. It’s a small kiss. Just a little tender peck. “If you want to play. But if you’re interested in getting to know me better, then you’ve got my full attention.”

“Really?” she asks, leaning in to kiss me back this time.

“Yeah,” I breathe into her mouth. “Really.”

“In that case, why don’t you come in? Because I’m dying to ask you questions.” She bats those long lashes again and I am mesmerized by her emerald eyes. She swings the door open to reveal a dimly lit hallway leading into the penthouse. I enter, my eyes on the far window, and then wait for her to close the door and lead the way.

“Would you like a drink, Fletcher? You might need one.”

“Huh?” I follow her a few steps, put off my game once again by the change in her voice. “Yeah, sure.”

Her heels click on the travertine tile floor as she walks briskly towards the living room. I follow, my eyes on her ass as I try to figure out what her angle is. But as soon as I look up again, I stop.

“Hey,” I say, putting my hands up. “I’m not into group shit.” There’s a man in a suit. A very nice suit, even I can see that. And the gay best friend standing at the bar on the far side of the room. “What’s the deal here?”

“The deal, Fletcher,” Tiffy says as she pours two glasses of Scotch from a decanter sitting on the bar, “is that you missed a meeting with me this afternoon.”

What the fuck?

“And since I’m really not used to getting stood up by employees”—she emphasizes the word—“I thought I’d pop in on your show and see you in action. I mean”—she walks back over to me with two drinks in her hand—“I’ve heard so much about you.”

I look at the drink she’s offering and decide I need it. It goes down smooth in one gulp and lights a fire in my throat afterwards. “You set me up.”

“I did not.”

“Mr. Novak,” the suit says, inserting himself between me and Tiffy. He looks familiar, but I’m off balance right now, so I don’t have the time to give it more thought. “We’re from corporate. I’m Cole Lancaster, general manager of the western division grouped under Preston Resorts. And you’ve met Tiffy here. Tiffy Preston,” he says, enunciating her last name so it’s clear just who she really is. The boss’ daughter. “Her father, the CEO, has instructed me to train her to take over the hotel when I’m promoted to COO next quarter. The Landslide Hotel and Casino is our last stop after the recent mergers into the Preston family. We’ve heard a lot about you from Amy, and to be honest”—he says it with a laugh—“we thought she was just fucking with us.”

“I’m not following,” I say through gritted teeth. But I’m not having any trouble following. Amy hates me. She always has. But she was just an assistant manager when I was hired by her predecessor nine months ago. She had no say in that decision. And since I’ve packed that house two nights a week every week since I started, once she took over three months back after the merger with Preston, she had to admit I was good.

“This unprofessionalism that you exhibit, Mr. Novak,” Tiffy says, taking over. “The tardiness, the missed meetings, the diva attitude. It’s not a good reflection on my father’s company. But I get it, Fletcher. I really do. You’re a performer. You have an ego that must be stroked and nurtured.” She shakes her head, closes her eyes, and laughs before she can continue. She’s making fun of me. “But propositioning patrons of this hotel for sex is something we will not tolerate.”

“I never propositioned you for sex, honey. You’re the one who propositioned me. I asked you to dinner.” Holy fuck. God loves me tonight. Because I can’t even remember asking a one-night fuck out for dinner before five minutes ago.

She looks over at Cole, who shrugs. He knows I’m in the clear for that. So I keep going. “In fact, you set me up. What I do on stage, what I did with you, that was an act, princess. I’m an actor out there. And you liked it so much you wanted more. Your assistant there—” I point to the BFF.

“Claudio,” he purrs at me with a smile and a wink.