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“Sure you could. And he wouldn’t mind. It’s not like you’re going to fall in love and get married. Just enjoy a nice little fuckfest while he’s here from Florida then you both go your merry way. No harm, no foul. So what do you say? Should I call him and set up a date?”
“I don’t know, Marcia. If it’s just dinner, I guess I can stand him that long. But I don’t know about doing it with him.”
Marcia nodded somberly. If she knew Adam—and she did—Leigh’s panties would be swinging from the chandelier before dessert was served. “That’ll be up to you.”
“You won’t tell him what I’m looking for?”
“Sex? No. I’ll just say you’re getting back into the social scene. He’ll say yes. You’ll probably have to listen to an hour of football stats but that’s the price all women have to pay for orgasms.”
Leigh nodded as if she already knew that little tidbit. “Okay. I’ll go. But tell him I don’t eat seafood. I don’t like Thai or Mexican either. Actually, anything too spicy is out. And he can pick me up here tonight. I’ll be working.”
“I don’t know if he’ll be available—”
“Eight would be good. No, eight thirty. If that won’t work, he can call me.”
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“So another night would be good for you too?”
Leigh frowned. “What’s wrong with tonight?”
Apparently it would be tonight whether Adam liked it or not. “I’m sure tonight will be fine. I’ll have him get in contact with you. What’s your number?”
Leigh withdrew a pad from her purse and started to scribble. “Eight thirty,” she repeated. “Sharp.”
“Gotcha.” Whether Adam and Leigh would both still be alive afterward was anyone’s guess, but her work here was done. She’d officially doled out sex-related advice, complete with arranging a possible booty call. If that didn’t help her earn her stripes in the guru business, she didn’t know what would.
Leigh handed over the piece of paper. “Here. Tell him not to be late.”
“Perfect.” Marcia grinned. “I’ll make the call right now.”
* * * * *
“You set up Leigh with Adam for sex?”
Staring into the mirror, Marcia edged her eyebrow pencil along her lower lash line. “Saying it that way makes it sound so crude.” When she held out her hand, Tony gave her the small black case that held her eye shadow. “I suggested they get together for a possible meeting of the intimate minds.”
Tony laughed. “Oh, I see. That sounds so much better.”
“Doesn’t it? And I didn’t tell you about any of this.”
“Of course not.”
“As an advice guru, I really shouldn’t. There’s patient confidentiality and all that. Even if I’m not operating in a professional capacity, I need to exhibit ethics.”
“They do come in handy.”
Marcia smirked at him as she set aside her makeup tools. “Which do you think says sex club? Smoky gray or teal?”
“What color’s teal? Sort of purply?” He looked over her shoulder at the array of eyeshadow colors, giving her a strong dose of amp 10 testosterone cologne.
Her panties dampened at once. “Shit.” She grabbed hold of the counter with her free hand and shot him a grin. “Your cologne just gave me a mini-orgasm.”
“Bend over that sink and I’ll give you a couple of mega ones.”
“Nuh uh. You’re helping me pick out makeup so we can go fuck in public. We have an agenda.”
“Such a bossy little thing,” he murmured against her neck, pinching her hip. “I still owe you a spanking for you thinking you can’t write.”
