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Walking back to the hotel, one thought rose above the rest. He’d been a fool, again. He shook his head, trying to clear the muddled emotions. No, trying to stop them all together. He didn’t want to feel anything.
By the time the lobby doors swished shut, an icy calm had embraced him. He wasn’t staying down this time.
Scanning the lobby, he caught sight of Dill leaning casually against the check-in desk, giving the new girl a reason to smile. Just the man he wanted.
Flagging him over, Jason laid out what he was looking for.
Dil pursed his lips. “So when you say as different from Ms. Malone as I can find, you mean you want an ugly, dim-wit who’s going to agree with everything you say?”
“I don’t need it from you, too.” He couldn’t get a break. Even Dil was giving him a hard time. “Just find me some company. Someone… distracting.” He looked back at Dil and narrowed his eyes. “Not a hooker.”
He wasn’t going to be some chump drowning his sorrows over a pint down at the bar. And he wasn’t going to take a year to get back in the saddle again; it wouldn’t be another repeat of his Sophia breakup. Not that Laine was anything like Sophia, but—he didn’t know what the hell he was thinking. She was enough like Sophia to leave him feeling like a complete schmuck being led around by his dick.
No more.
Jamming his hands into his pockets, Dill shifted his gaze around the office. “Okay, sir. I think I have a girl for you.”
“Not for me, for tonight.” No one was going to be right for him.
—
Pasty Cline’s Crazy poured out of the juke box in a slow painful assault on Laine’s heart. Wanting to grab her glass of Chablis and rocket it at the person responsible for the song selection, she instead smoothed her hand over the polished oak bar and reined in her emotions. It wasn’t the time to get all weepy over Jason and his holier than thou attitude.
Asshole.
No, now, this very minute, was the start of her future.
One door closed and another door opened. It always proved true, but the timing in this instance was rather shocking, even to a professional in an industry known for serendipity. Laine adjusted herself on the bar stool and, crossing her legs, angled herself toward the man seated beside her, Max Johnson. He was watching her intently, waiting for her response.
One last time she let her gaze run the length of his body, taking in the details. This guy was a catch, if ever she saw one. Clean cut good looks, nice dresser, a smooth smile, and trusting eyes that stayed focused on her, proving she was the center of his attention—an essential skill. The body was a plus, no doubt about it, talk about a strong back. He was old enough to have some experience, young enough where he was still eager to learn.
He’d been pursuing her for months and looking at him now, she knew he was exactly what she needed.
Taking a deep breath, the deliberation was over. She smiled and offered him her hand. “Okay.”
—
“Oops,” Pammy tittered, pulling the scrap of her dress back over her nipple. Peering up from beneath a thick mane of bleached blonde hair, she bit into her bottom lip and shrugged.
Jason smiled and raised his glass, draining the last drop of Belvedere before returning it to the table with a thunk. Glancing around the restaurant, he saw an unusual number of his staff lingering at the perimeter of the room, each looking
away with obvious embarrassment as his gaze landed on them. The hotel restaurant had been a poor choice for dinner. Well, at least with this many prying eyes, he wouldn’t have to wait on the refill. Holding the glass up, he clinked the ice around and raised an eyebrow for a taker.
A new glass was on the table within ninety seconds.
“Five star service,” he said, daring a glance at Pammy. The suggestive manner in which she ran her fingers up and down the stem of her wine glass set him on edge, and he found himself pulling at his collar. She was eyeing him like a piece of meat. “How’s the risotto tonight?”
He sounded like her waiter, not the man about to slam his cock into her. What the fuck was the matter with him? This was just the kind of girl he’d asked for, and here he was mentally cursing Dil for hooking them up. Eighteen months ago she would have been perfect. They would have been playing footsy under the table, whispering conversation thick with innuendo. Hell, eighteen months ago, he probably would have been fingering her panties in his suit pocket by now.
As if on cue, the pointed toe of a stiletto jabbed into his shin, making him jump back.
“Sorry.” Her nose wrinkled up, and she started to lick the tines of her fork. “I’ll have to kiss that owie for you later.”
Her mouth going anywhere near what promised to be a swollen purple bruise on his shin was decidedly unappealing. The date wasn’t working. He didn’t feel better. He wasn’t distracted from the feeling of his heart being broken. All he could think about was Laine, and all he wanted was to stop. Drastic measures were in order.
Downing half the contents of his freshly-filled glass, Jason leaned forward and took Pammy’s hand, stroking his thumb across the palm. “What do you say we get out of here?”
Her tongue slid in a slow caress over her teeth. “I thought you’d never ask.”
