You've Got Fail(13)

I cocked my head at her. “I think we’ve established that.”

“I’m certain there are plenty of style blogs. Maybe take a look at your colleagues for some input.” She walked up and shooed me away from her table. “And if you want to sell books, you’ll go to the events. Simple as that.”

Scarlet had already walked to the door. “You’ll be just like Pretty Woman.”

“Except she didn’t have to pay for her own clothes.”

Scarlet threw me a look over her shoulder. “Oh, she paid. Just not with cash.”

Touché.

“Beverly will email you with parties, dates, times, and invitations this afternoon.” Linda sank down behind her desk and started typing rapidly. Her eyes never left the screen as she added, “Good luck. As long as you two don’t make fools of yourselves, this will go swimmingly.”

“You ready, Sparky?” Scarlet strutted from the office, her hips calling to mind the moment we shared in the cab.

Swimmingly.





6





Scarlet





“Swimmingly,” he grumbled as we boarded the elevator.

“We get to go to parties. It’s not a bad deal.” I leaned against the back wall as the doors closed. “Just think of all the wallets, the jewelry, the—”

“You are not going there to steal.” He pointed a finger at me. “I’ll call this whole thing off, and you won’t get a dime.”

I snapped my teeth at his finger, and he pulled it back.

He glared down at me. “What is wrong with you?”

“What?” I sidled closer. “You aren’t into biters?”

“I didn’t say that.” He held his ground.

“You just seem so nerdy and stuck up and like such a, you know, rule follower.” I ran my finger down the front of his shirt. “Biting doesn’t seem like something you’re into.”

He grabbed my hand and squeezed. “For the last time, keep your sticky fingers off me. And just so you know, I’m into biting, but more giving than receiving.” Tossing my hand away, his scowl intensified.

The elevator opened, and I strolled past him into the sunny New York day. I turned and pegged him with my too-sweet smile. “How about you buy me lunch?”

“I have work to do.” He shouldered his bag.

“What? You have more tragic singles to advise on how to please a man while going down, or maybe another entry in your ‘BDSM for Beginners’ section?”

He smirked, his personality forcing its way through his high-strung exterior. “Been reading my blog?”

“I always get to know my marks.”

“I’m not a mark.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Sparky.” I stepped toward him, but my ankle turned.

He caught me before I fell, then set me up straight. “Yeah, you’re a real grade-A criminal. One who can’t even stay on her feet.”

“You got me there.” I sighed. “Well, if you aren’t buying me lunch, I’d best be on my way.”

“Good plan.” He held up a hand to signal an approaching cab.

“See you Friday night.” I turned on my heel and took my time walking away from him, all the while stuffing his wallet into my handbag.



Sparky: Where are you?

Scarlet: Getting some lunch.

Sparky: WHERE ARE YOU?

Scarlet: Take it down a notch, Sparky. No one likes a yeller. I’m at Tony G’s. They have a chicken parm that will melt in your mouth.

Sparky: Don’t fucking move.

Scarlet: Well, that’s just silly, Sparky. I have to move to eat. Then I’ll have to move to pay the bill with the cash I found in your wallet.



The three dots bounced. Stopped. Bounced again. Stopped. I could imagine him sputtering, his face turning red, his dark blue eyes flashing. Honestly, riling him up was the most fun I’d had in a long while.

“More wine?” My server offered me the red.

I nodded. “Fill ‘er up.” I’d decided to take a page from Linda’s book and become a day drinker. Though it would take a lifetime to work up to her level, I was up for the attempt. I took a sip, the full-bodied wine washing down my throat. Lush challenge accepted.

Rat Pack music played low in the background as the lunch crowd created a buzz through the restaurant. I sat in a corner booth facing the door. It didn’t take long for Willis to burst in, his face just as red as I’d guessed. On a search and destroy mission, he found me and stormed through the tables. I shifted in my seat as he approached. Apparently, unhinged nerd with a great body and a rage issue was a turn-on. Who knew?

He stopped in front of my table and leaned over me, his eyes staring daggers through my brain. “Give it back.”

I slid his wallet across the table. “They already ran a tab for me. So it’s cool.”

He clutched the leather in his palm and squeezed. “I had a vision of strangling you. And I’m not a violent man.”

I swirled my wine. “Oooh, foreplay. I like it.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What is wrong with you?”

“I just want to get to know you, have some lunch.” Find out your secrets, see if I can sell them. “That’s all.” I sat back, letting him catch a glimpse of the unbuttoned top of my sundress.