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“I do.” I open a bottle and pour her a glass. Dominic helps himself to some Scotch and sits opposite her. I grab a Diet Coke and join them. “Gabriella or Ella?”
“Gabriella.” She looks faintly embarrassed. “My friends call me Gabby. Sorry about the fake name. Bars can be really—”
“You don’t need to explain.” Dominic leans forward. “Well, you don’t need to explain the name. I do have a question.” His gaze rests on her. “You left without saying goodbye. Did we do something you were uncomfortable with?”
“No, no.” She doesn’t meet our eyes. “It wasn’t you. It was me. I don’t have the greatest dating history.” She looks up. “It was a good night. I didn’t want to ruin the fantasy.”
It was more than a good night; it had been the best night of my life. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a pessimist.”
“I’m a realist.”
Dominic changes the topic. “And you’re Nicky Z’s new publicist?”
“Only temporarily,” she replies, taking a sip of her wine. “I’m covering until my firm can find a replacement for Anna. My boss thought it’d take two weeks.” Her lips curl into a smile that sends a punch of need through my gut. “Then again, Paul has a nasty habit of telling me what he thinks I want to hear. Worst case, they can’t find anyone, and I’ll be here for the duration of Nicky’s run.”
“Five weeks, then?” Dominic asks.
“Five weeks, max.”
I don’t have to be a genius to figure out what Dominic’s hinting at. It’s obvious from the look on his face that he’s still attracted to her.
And me? Oh hell, yes. She takes another sip of her wine. Her tongue flicks out to capture a stray drop on her lower lip, and all the blood rushes from my head. My mind goes straight to the gutter. I imagine licking wine off her body, and my cock hardens. I have to bite my tongue to keep from groaning at the sheer eroticism of that visual.
Is she still single? Is she interested in picking up where we left off? She implied earlier that she’d only been looking for a temporary fling, which stings a little. But I get it. I’m in a similar place. Noah is my first priority, and working a full-time job as well as taking care of a young child doesn’t leave a lot of room for anything else.
Dominic doesn’t really date either. He’s too much of a workaholic.
Even if we were interested in dating—which we’re not—how would it work? That night with Ella—I’ve never done something as wild, as passionate and uninhabited. It had been my first and only threesome. But in real life? I just can’t see it. Ever since my parents died, I’ve stepped up to be the responsible one. I put myself and Chloe through college. I serve in my homeowners’ association. I coach Noah’s baseball team. Kindergarten incident aside, I’m an upstanding citizen, and model members of the community do not have threesomes.
No, a relationship isn’t in my future. But if she’s interested in something more casual?
Five weeks with Ella. No, not Ella. Gabriella. Five weeks to taste her sweet lips. Thirty-five days to hear her soft moans. To see the heat in her eyes. To run my fingers over her oh-so-kissable skin. The temptation to open my mouth and ask her if she wants me—if she wants us—is almost unbearable.
“And then what?”
“Back to New York,” she replies. “I’m a lowly publicist. I do what my employers tell me. When they say jump…”
“You’re wearing a watch that retails for more than ten thousand dollars,” I interrupt.
She glances at the Rolex on her wrist. “This was a birthday gift from my parents. They’re rich. I’m not.” She grimaces. “Don’t get me wrong, I adore them. Growing up, I never wanted for anything. I’m privileged, and I’m painfully aware of it. Their connections opened doors for me. Probably still do. But I moved to New York to try and make it on my own. So, yeah. When my boss says jump, I jump. Because otherwise, I don’t make rent.”
That’s when the idea strikes me. Gabriella could be the solution to my biggest problem.
She can play poker. Linda said she did good on the main floor, and none of my staff is prone to exaggeration. She has a solid reason to be in Atlantic City. Nobody knows that we’ve met before.
A frisson of excitement trickles down my spine. All I need to do is convince her to get involved. This could work.
I set my Coke down on the side table and lean forward. “Gabriella,” I start, my voice vibrating with urgency. “I have a proposition for you.”
