Layers(15)

She raises an eyebrow at me and bluntly asks, “Well?”

I look at my watch. Crap, it’s already eleven. I should be at work in twenty. “Give me a ride to work and I’ll fill you in.” I give Tasha an apologetic look, and she scowls.

“Tash, I should really be at work in twenty, or else Mrs. Never Gets Laid will have my butt on the grill.” Tasha twists her mouth playfully.

“Okay, just stop whining.”

As she presses the button to let the top down I skim through the player and leave it at “Paper Airplanes.”

The mellow folky/blues music funnels into the car as Tasha turns my way. “It’s story time.”

I grin at her and start from the so-called interview at Stark Software, filling her in with a thorough minute-by-minute account of our encounters that finally led to a half-naked Daniel Stark in our home.

“Hold on,” Tasha says, raising her manicured finger, and turns to dial. And I can just imagine where this call is directed.

“S’up gorgeous?” A too-loud yelp tears the calm ambiance.

“Super E, you are on speaker and we have the one and only Miss Grace with us.”

“Gorgeous Miss Grace.”

I giggle at Ian’s as-ever bursting energy.

“Listening time,” Tasha declares authoritatively, prompting an immediate silence from us both. “Now, you, Missy, continue the tale.” She turns my way and then goes back to focus on the curving road ahead. And I obey.

“Oh my god, I’ve just Googled him. This is one steamy creature. When do I get the full report of how he is in terms of making your girlie parts dazzle?” Both Tasha and I turn into a noisily squeaking duo.

“So I gather you assume there will be experiments with exchanging liquids?”

“With this guy, bet your tight ass there’ll be! Any chance he’s playing for both teams?” I roll my eyes.

Ian is like the Tasmanian devil when it comes to hot guys: he must consume everything that looks even remotely delectable.

“Have no idea. Don’t think so, but I’ll make sure to ask him the first chance I get.”

Tasha snickers and I shake my head with half a smile.

“So, gorgeous ladies, I gotta go. Do him, Hales, that’s an order. Ciao!”

“Love ya,” we chorus and the line drops. Tasha and I trade amused glances and fall into a pleasant, contemplative silence.

About ten minutes into our drive I say, idly, half to Tasha half to myself, “Seriously, I have no idea what he really wants with me.”

Tasha sends me a derisive glance. “I mean, I know what he wants, I’ve been playing this game for far too long … I can sense attraction better than anyone, but it’s just …” I sigh.

“Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately? Do I really have to remind you how many broken hearts you have under your belt? And I’m referring to just the last couple of years.” She wrinkles her nose, and continues with, “You’re such a sweet, witty, beautiful and intelligent person.”

I beam at her. “Well, my dear, you couldn’t be more objective.”

“How do you feel about all of this?” she asks, her expression turning solemn.

“He’s intriguing and charming in a bad boy kind of way,” I say, pondering, “and absolutely hot. He acts as though it’s more than just plain attraction, but I’m pretty sure he’s the biggest player.”

“Oh, a male version of you.”

“Hey, whose side are you on, anyway?”

“Well, just do him, like Ian suggested, and go from there.” She concludes in an assertive tone, effortlessly dismissing the doubt in subject.

“But you know how I feel about that … been there, done that. You know better than anyone what I’m not looking for.”

Who better than Tasha knows about my sordid history? About how, for the last few years, by choice, I didn’t have a “relationship” that lasted longer than one night, longer than an orgasm …

She fixes her framed white Jackie O. sunglasses, adjusting them on the bridge of her pointy nose. “Hales, I know that you’ve stopped f**king for nothing. But make an exception with this irresistible, virile, mega-attractive guy, one last time. And by all means, girl, don’t make it more than it is,” she states, putting to words what we both think. She does have a talent for doing that.

“Fucking for nothing,” I snicker. “Classy.” Tasha mirrors my amused stare.

Pulling the car to a stop, she turns to me and says, “Come on, he’s incredibly sexy. Hell, he’s Daniel ‘Hottie’ Stark.” She grins. “My best friend is going to do Daniel Stark.”

I can’t help but laugh at her cheerful declaration.

“We have all these indecent plans for him and I’m not even sure he’ll call again,” I murmur. “If there’s something I cannot do, it’s anticipating this guy.” Given our brief history, I sigh deeply.

Perhaps I should just call him up and say, Hey Daniel, the unanimous verdict has been rendered—I am to do you, let’s f**k?





Chapter 7: The Very Last Time


“Honey, I’m home,” I call out.

“In the shower,” Tasha yells back, a bit too loudly.