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“You were giving me reasons why you won’t ask her out. But you only listed one thing.”
“Oh. The other reason is that she’s not my type.”
“Not into blondes?”
He shrugged. “It’s not just about physical appearances.”
“Then what’s it about?” I pressed. “What’s your type?”
He got a faraway look in his eyes as he thought about it. A few seconds passed. I began wondering if I shouldn’t have asked him, and if he wasn’t going to answer at all.
“I like women who can take care of themselves,” he finally said. “Someone who has had to struggle, and knows the value of hard work because of that struggle. Self-sufficiency is attractive. I don’t want to be with someone who needs to be taken care of, or who is codependent. I don’t want a girlfriend or a wife, with all the baggage and expectations that come with those titles. I want apartner. Someone who is by my side through everything. A partner at life.”
I was speechless by the end. It was like he had peeled back the curtain and was giving me a very quick glimpse at his soul. Michael blinked and seemed to realize that he had said a lot.
“And she’s got to have a great ass,” he added. “I’m definitely an ass man, and Candice doesn’t have much going on down there.”
I nodded thoughtfully. “Has to have a good ass. Noted.”
“Not a good ass,” he clarified, raising one finger. “I said agreatass.”
I laughed and almost turned around and asked if he thought mine qualified. If I’d had one more wine in me, I might have done it. But I refrained.
“I’m going to use the little girl’s room. Mind holding this?”
He accepted my glass of wine and gestured. “Down the hall, first door on the left.”
I strutted away as sensually as possible. I knew my rear end looked fantastic in this pencil skirt, and if Michael truly was an ass man, he would appreciate it. When I was halfway there, I turned and gazed over my shoulder. For the tiniest fraction of a second, I caught his eyes glued to my posterior. There was a hungry look in them. Wolfish, even.
Then he quickly turned away and called out to someone, covering up that he had been staring.
I have a great ass, I thought with a smile as I ducked into the bathroom.
21
Ginny
When I returned to the party, Michael waved me over to a conversation he was having with two gray-haired men who lived in Albuquerque but had driven in for the event. They were donors whose grants I had approved that week, and so we had a lot to talk about. I quickly forgot all about how I had caught Michael staring at my ass.
Michael put his hand on my back and guided me through the party as we mingled with all the guests. I must have met at least a hundred people, and I didn’t remember anyone’s names as soon as I was shaking hands with the next person. But I was grateful that he took me under his wing rather than letting me stand around by myself.
I was also happy to get out of my apartment on a Wednesday night. Usually, I spent this night brainstorming what to do on my Thursday live show, and taking snippets from my Tuesday show to turn into individual paid videos. Being wined and dined with some of Fort Perth’s wealthiest people was a much better alternative. Also, the way Michael kept introducing me to people made me feel like I was special. Or like I was his date. I didn’t want the evening to end.
August finally started kicking everyone out at 9:00pm. “I love you all, and you’re good company, but I need to get my beauty rest. If I don’t get nine hours every night, I turn into a troll.” He was literally putting an arm around some guests and guiding them toward the exit, but he did so with a charming laugh that made it all seem like a joke.
“Hey, not you!” August said when I made for the door. Everyone else had left except me and Michael. “I meant all the other, lamer people. You’re one of the cool ones.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I don’tfeelvery cool. And it’s getting late, and we have work tomorrow…”
August darted into the kitchen and grabbed one of the unopened bottles of wine. “This is a five hundred dollar bottle of wine. We can’t let it go to waste.”
“Save it for another time,” I suggested.
He quickly screwed the wine-opener into it and popped the cork. “Oh, no! I accidentally opened it. Now wehaveto drink it.” He waved it in the air enticingly. “Apparently it’s fancy. Not that I can taste the difference.”
“She said she doesn’t want red wine, in case it spills on her white blouse,” Michael said.
“Aww, come on, Ginny! If it goes to waste, I’ll be one of those rich assholes who wastes expensive wine. Please save me from being that guy?”
