Indigo Nights (Nights #3)(20)
I didn’t need to take a look at it if Raf had already called time of death. “Okay. Anything else?”
“What, in the fifteen hours I haven’t spoken to you?” His tone suggested that something had happened.
“Yeah. I know how you like to cause trouble while I’m away.”
“Oh, that’s right. I banged my assistant and she quit. I’ve got a temp.”
“Jesus, Raf. Again? Can’t you keep it in your pants? That’s like the third one in a year. You’re one step away from a lawsuit.”
“Jesus nothing. Did you see the girl? She was totally smokin’. No way was I saying no. Especially when she asked me so nicely.” His grin filtered through the phone.
“If she sues us, you’re paying out of your own pocket.”
“Calm down. She’s not going to sue. You need to get laid.”
I grinned. If he only knew. That was the difference between us. Raf and I were both believers in casual sex, I was just a little more discreet than he was.
I ended the call and scrolled back up to Beth’s number. Against my better judgment, I pressed dial again.
“Hey,” she answered.
I smiled. “Where are you?”
“At my hotel. Why?”
“You’re like the disappearing woman.”
“I like to get off planes quickly. The journey’s done. There’s nothing to be had from sitting around and enjoying the view.”
I chuckled; it was true. “How come you’re in a hotel?”
She sighed. “My dad’s house is a little cramped. Where are you?”
I glanced out the window. “Just pulling up outside my house. You live with your dad?”
“Are you kidding me? You know I’m legal, right?” She laughed.
“So, you don’t live in Chicago?”
“What’s with all the questions?”
I was interrogating her as if she were a business proposition. “I’m sorry. I just . . .” I couldn’t explain it to her without sounding like a sap. I wanted to know more about her. Maybe that way she wouldn’t be quite so intriguing, so contradictory. “You can ask me a question. I think that’s how conversation goes. You say something, then I say something.”
“You’re a lover and a comic.”
I chuckled as I stepped out of the car and Don carried my suitcase up the steps to my brownstone. I nodded in thanks and he left me on the stoop.
She sighed as if exasperated. “Okay, if I get a question, what should I ask?”
My stomach fluttered as she deliberated.
“First I should really thank you for the orgasm.”
My balls tightened at her words. She was most welcome. “The pleasure was all mine.”
She laughed, a deep sexy laugh, and I imagined her red lips spread wide, ready for my cock. “You’ve thrown me off,” she said. “I don’t know what to ask you now. What do you suggest?”
I couldn’t tell if she wasn’t interested and she was trying to be nice, or if she was being genuine. “Ask me if I’m free for dinner.”
I unlocked the door and pulled my case into the hallway, shrugged off my jacket and tie, catching the scent of her almond perfume as I did. Was I imagining things? It didn’t matter; I wanted more of that scent.
Finally, she replied, “I can’t have dinner with you tonight.”
“Give me three good reasons.” I snapped into business mode. Negotiation I could do.
“Well, I have to prepare for tomorrow. You’re a stranger. The whole point of a one-night stand is that we don’t have to make awkward conversation over dinner.”
“I’m not a stranger, so that point disappears immediately. And you think our conversation is going to be awkward?” I asked, addressing her points one by one. “Why would you think that? We have so much in common.” I slumped on the sofa and put my feet up on the small table.
She laughed and I couldn’t help but grin in response, it was such a relaxed sound. “Like what?”
“We’re both in Chicago. We like having sex with each other—Do I need to go on?”
“I’m not sure that’s the basis of excellent dinner conversation.”
“Look, I’m not proposing marriage. Just dinner.” I loosened my tie.
“That’s what Haven said.”
Who the f*ck was Haven? “Who?”
“My sister-in-law.”
She had a brother. Interesting. Apart from her name, it was the first bit of personal information she’d given me. “She told you I wasn’t proposing marriage?”
“She told me to have some fun, and that I didn’t have to marry you.”
“I like her; she gives excellent advice. Usually I save marriage for the second date. So dinner. Where are you staying?”
“The Langham. But no, reason one trumps them all. I have to prep.” Her words were clipped, decided.
“Prep for what?” I asked.
“I have a thing tomorrow. A TV thing.”
“Are you trying to be deliberately mysterious? Because, let me tell you, it’s working.” I couldn’t remember the last time I had so much fun just talking. If she wouldn’t have dinner with me, perhaps she would stay on the phone and just swap stories.