The Hookup Handbook(14)
She smiles, her focus on the empty salad bowl sitting in her lap. “That’s nice of you to say. I just . . . I don’t know. You should get some rest. I’ve got everything covered, so you just worry about getting better.”
She stacks my bowl on top of hers and leaves the room before I can say anything.
As I sink back into my pillows, I go over our conversation again in my head. Did I share too much? Did I make her uncomfortable? She seemed normal enough, but what if something I said rubbed her the wrong way, and she doesn’t want to work here anymore? Or worse, what if my pep talk about how she can do anything pushes her right into the next best thing?
If today proved anything to me, it’s that Sienna needs to stick around. She’s too valuable an asset, and I haven’t clicked like this with someone in years. Not to mention her every move sends an electric shock through my body.
I need to find a way to keep her around. And fast.
Chapter Six
Sienna
A part-time office employee for a male escort agency walks into a bar.
It sounds like the introduction to a joke Ryder would tell at a family party after one too many cocktails. But there’s no punch line to this setup. It’s just another day in my post-grad life, and for the first time all week, I’m owning it.
Squinting in the dim bar lighting, I spot Allison’s jet-black hair at a back corner table. She already has a gin and tonic at the ready for my arrival, her own glass half-empty. Or is it half-full?
If you asked me on Monday when I was desperately trying to keep from being knocked over by Case’s laser stare, I definitely would have said half-empty. But today, after a full day of running things by myself while keeping Case’s sick ass in check, I might have a different answer. Tonight, as my heels click across the floor, I don’t wobble—I strut.
“Well, look what corporate America dragged in.” Allison clucks her tongue in approval as she does a once-over of my outfit.
“Sorry I’m late,” I say, sliding into the empty seat across from her. “It was a crazy day.”
“You’re working at a male escort agency,” she says, as if I need reminding. “I’m guessing crazy doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
We clink our glasses together and I take my first sip, the ice cubes knocking against the glass.
“So, week one is done. What’s the review of the new job?” Allison pushes her bangs out of her eyes as she leans in, propping her elbows on the table. She’s already wide-eyed with interest, and I haven’t given her a single detail.
“I wish I had juicier gossip for you, but it’s not that different from any other job,” I say. “But I actually kind of like it. I thought it would be ultra-sexual and uncomfortable all the time, but it’s really not that weird.”
Allison lowers her chin and raises her eyebrows at me. She’s clearly not buying it.
“All right, fine. Some of it’s kind of weird. But not really in a bad way. A lot of my work revolves around this sex book that Case is on a deadline to write. I guess it is kind of bizarre to be reading through my boss’s orgasm secrets.”
Allison scrunches her nose. “Case is the guy from your email, right? The major asshole running the show?”
I shrug, drawing lazy swirls in the condensation on the side of my glass. “I think he must just give bad first impressions. He’s really not that bad. Actually, he’s kinda sweet when he isn’t pretending to be made of stone.” I’m a little surprised by how easily the compliment rolls off my tongue. A few sips of gin and tonic, and suddenly I’m loose enough to start spilling. “Like today, he was super sick, and so I took him up to his bedroom—”
Allison’s percussive gasp cuts me off mid-sentence. “A male escort took you up to his bedroom? Are you kidding me?”
“It’s not like that. The office is on the first floor of his house, and he was too sick to be working. So I brought him upstairs and sat on his bed with him, and—”
Allison holds up a hand like a traffic cop, cutting me off again. “I don’t care if this man was knocking on death’s door. You went up to your boss’s bedroom with him. Your boss who literally fucks for a living. There’s no way he takes all his other employees up there.”
“All his other employees are also male escorts,” I remind her, rolling my eyes.
“I’m just saying. It sounds like he could be the solution to your problem.”
I frown at her as I take another swig of my drink. “What problem?”
“Your summer-fling problem, duh.”
An airy laugh escapes the back of my throat, but Allison doesn’t laugh along.
Oh my God, is she making a serious suggestion?
She looks at me expectantly, stirring what’s left of her gin and tonic. I laugh again, this time more nervously.
“Allison, no. That is definitely not happening.”
“Why not? You said he was sweet, and he literally has made a career out of getting women off. Can you even imagine how good that sex would be? Good enough that the guy got signed on to write a damn book about it.”
Allison leans back in her chair and folds her arms across her chest, waiting for my rebuttal to her argument. She may have made some good points, but there’s one teeny, tiny problem.