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“Welcome,” I say, as I release his strong palm.
Another man steps in to shake my hand, dressed smartly in a crisp white dress shirt and navy slacks. His skin is sun-kissed, probably from playing golf or jetting off to a luxury Caribbean resort. I bet the sports car in the driveway is his. “Oliver?” I guess, and he smiles broadly, happy that he’s memorable enough for me to recall. It’s cute that he’s not arrogant enough to expect it.
“Yes. I’m Oliver. Stefan is on his way.”
“You know each other?”
He nods as he draws away his well-manicured hand. “Our industry is incestuous.”
“I wondered if you were arriving in pairs,” I say, glancing over at the other men still waiting to introduce themselves. Carson has returned from his wandering and is now standing at the back of the group.
“Pairs?” Russell queries. “How come?”
“Well, there are ten of you staying for the week, from five occupations. I thought the recruiter might have been lazy and found friendship pairs.”
“I recommended Stefan.” Oliver rolls his eyes when a few of the men snicker. It takes me a couple of seconds to realize the snickering is about the fact that Oliver must have known Stefan’s dick size. For the first time, it strikes me that I expected all the men involved in this study to be heterosexual. I mean, it’s a woman’s magazine after all. But maybe I was wrong to make that assumption. Maybe Oliver and Stefan are lovers?”
“Are you a couple?” I ask, blushing at my abruptness. In any other circumstance, it would be a very personal question for me to ask, but these men are here specifically to share all their intimate details.
“No,” Oliver says firmly. “We used to work at the same agency and dated the same woman. You get to hear things.”
“Cock gossip,” Carson says. “Classy.”
“Cock gossip is a thing wherever you go, especially when there is something big to talk about,” the next man says, as Oliver moves aside. His eyes are the color of storm clouds, but his smile is warm and engaging. His crooked nose is what I remember the most and what gives him the look of a bare-knuckle boxer from the nineteen hundreds.
“Jonas,” I guess.
“Absolutely,” he grins. “And my buddy Jimmy is also on his way. We used to play sports together in high school which is why he knew to recommend me for this gig too.”
“Am I the only one here who doesn’t know anyone?” Russell asks.
“I know Clay. We've been neighbors since childhood. We practically lived in each other’s houses until I was old enough to get my own place.” Carson steps forward to take my hand. He doesn’t shake it, though. This time I receive a press of soft lips against my knuckles, combined with some intense ocean-blue eye contact. Wow! Of all the men, I think Carson is going to be the most trouble.
A shiver passes through me before Carson pulls his mouth away, and his smile is broad and knowing as he straightens. He felt my reaction to him and liked it.
I trap my lip between my teeth as I draw my hand away and offer it to one of the other waiting men, not wanting Carson to feel like I’m lingering on him after his presumptuous kiss.
The next two men step forward together as though they have a coordinated way of moving. “I’m Theron,” the first says, “and this is my cousin Gabe.” He shakes my hand and tips his head to the right to indicate the man next to him. His palm is huge and as rough as sandpaper and I immediately remember that he’s one of the contractors. Gabe is equally built and extends a hand that looks like it could crack a skull in a single grip.
“It’s great to meet you all,” I say. “And thanks so much for being on time. Not that we’re short of time.”
Theron nods. “Do you usually do interviews this way…you know…over so many days?”
Shaking my head, I take a step back, scanning the huge space we’re going to be sharing. “To be honest, this is the first time for me too! I only learned I was going to be handling this assignment yesterday, so you’ll need to bear with me.”
“Yesterday?” Olive’s tone is shocked. “I’ve been scheduled to attend this thing for a couple of weeks.”
“Me too,” Carson says. “Why do you think they left it to the last minute to tell you about it?”
“I’m not sure.” I don’t want to lie but I am cautious about revealing too much office politics. “But don’t worry. I’ve been working for the magazine for three years. I know this stuff inside and out.”
As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I blush profusely. I just admitted I’m a pro when it comes to dicks. What an imbecile! This assignment is going to be the death of me.
Before the men have a chance to ask me any more questions, the doorbell rings again.
“No rest for the wicked,” I say. “Make yourselves at home and I’ll see who it is.”
ALLIE
