That Wild Player, page 3
Sammi is lying with her head on Luke’s lap. “Tim kept us at the office late, so we decided to have a Thursday night double-date and watch a movie…which just ended.”
Luke gestures at the coffee table. There are two large pizza boxes and several beer and soda cans. “Some pizza left, if you want it.”
“Do I ever!” I dash over and tear into a slice of pepperoni and mushroom heaven.
“Didn’t your date feed you?” Sammi asks.
“I thought you were having sushi,” Jan says.
“Yeah, I thought so too,” I say.
Sammi makes a face. “Oh, gross. He took you to a sushi buffet, didn’t he?” She’s a total Japanese food snob…of course, so am I.
“No, the restaurant was fine. I just wanted to have my damn maguro,” I say between bites. “But I couldn’t. Didn’t get to eat anything.”
Then I tell them the whole mess, minus the parking-lot incident, because that’s the kind of disaster I just can’t talk about with Matt and Luke around. Not that I have much dignity left after Nathan’s email, but a girl’s gotta try to preserve what she can.
Thinking about the email and all my stupid dates since makes my blood boil. Again. Just once, I’d like a nice, normal guy. Why the hell is my life such a mess all of a sudden? Did I use up all my good luck when I won the cruise or something? If I were the superstitious type, I’d be on Etsy buying magical amulets to repel evil.
“At least he didn’t brag about winning an expectoration competition, like that last guy,” Jan says, doing what she can to console me. It doesn’t really help.
“No, but he did tell me several amusing stories. One was that he likes to do an impression of straining on a toilet every time he has to squeeze a wiener out from a bag of sausages. Holds it over the frying pan. Lets it drop.” I mime the action. “Complete with hrrrr sound effects.”
“Eww! I don’t know if that’s an improvement,” Sammi says, ever the realist.
“Welp,” Jan says. “No sex for that guy.”
“Definitely not. He’ll never have a chance to take the oral exam,” I say.
Matt stares at me like I’m speaking in tongues. “What does spitting—or wieners—have to do with going down on a woman?”
“A guy who doesn’t know the difference between spitting and cunnilingus doesn’t deserve you,” Sammi says.
Jan says, “Exactly. There’s a perfect guy just waiting to meet you—”
“…go down on you…” Matt says. Luke high-fives him.
“—you just haven’t run into him yet.”
Warmth unknots the day-long tension in the base of my neck. I have the bestest best friends ever. And their men are fantastic too. Most guys would get annoyed if a fifth wheel was ruining their fun time.
“Thanks, guys. Really. I’m not going to mope,” I say, because I’m really not going to do that. Nope. Nope to the moping. “It’s nothing a new day won’t fix.” And laundry. Can’t forget the laundry.
Something buzzes, and Matt takes his phone from the table, then frowns.
“What is it?” Jan asks.
“You remember I told you my best man was coming into town?”
“Yeah.”
“Apparently he got here a day early and the hotel he booked is full. He’s wondering if he can crash at our place for a night.”
Jan smiles. “Sure. It’ll be nice to meet your friend.”
The small tension in his face eases. “Perfect. Because he’s in my driveway. I’ll tell him to come over.” He texts.
Sammi raises both eyebrows. “A little presumptuous of him.”
Jan waves a hand in the direction of Matt’s place. “No problem. We have four bedrooms.”
Luke pats Sammi’s shoulder. “If your maid of honor needed to crash at my place, I wouldn’t mind at all.”
She snorts. “Chances of that happening are exactly nil. She lives here.”
“The real test is letting the mother-in-law stay,” I say, thinking of my mom.
“That’d be fine, too. She’s adorable.”
I forgot. Luke loves Sammi’s mom, who dotes on him.
“The woman responsible for Sammi’s existence can do no wrong,” he adds.
That’s so sweet I feel like I just mainlined ten pounds of sugar.
Two knocks come from the door, and it opens. Matt grins. “Hey, dude. Welcome back to Northern Virginia.”
“Thanks.” Matt’s best man steps forward.
Everything inside me freezes. Holy earth-mother of shitty luck. It’s CJ.
Maybe it’s a lookalike.
Right. How many Henry Cavills with moss-green eyes exist in the world?
He and Matt do a man hug with a couple of back slaps. Then Matt quickly introduces CJ to everyone, including me.
“And this is Michelle, Jan and Sammi’s best friend.”
“Nice to meet you.” CJ flashes me that dimple and extends a hand, like he hasn’t been witness to my humiliation. Like he doesn’t have physical evidence of said humiliation.
I want my freakin’ underwear back, and if you breathe a word to anybody, no one will ever find your body! “Likewise.” I don’t want to touch him, but everyone’s watching. I grasp his hand, which is warm and strong. And feels entirely too tingly. I give it a couple of good pumps.
Why couldn’t I have been lucky enough to be pulled over by the cops on my way home? That would’ve been preferable to this.
“So…you live here?” CJ asks.
“Yeah,” Matt says. “The girls are all housemates.”
CJ gives me a smile and a wink. It looks harmless and friendly, but I don’t trust him. I’d like to think he tossed my kryptonite underwear, but men are never that sensible. I know he still has them, probably stuffed into a back pocket.
He better not sue me if it blows up his fine ass.
What if CJ tells everyone about what happened in the parking lot?
Yeah, that would suck. But I trust my best friends to have my back. Besides, it’d be great if he did something stupid and got on Sammi’s shit list. She can be worse than a pit bull at times.
“You guys enjoy your evening,” I say, suddenly feeling too tired to deal with CJ and everything that’s happened today. “I’m exhausted and need to hit the sack.”
“It’s ten,” CJ says.
“I have an early breakfast with my parents this weekend. I need to start saving up for it.”
Jan and Sammi both nod with sympathy. They know I like to sleep in on weekends, but I never say no to breakfast with my parents when I’m invited.
CJ narrows his eyes, and I give him an innocent smile. So what if he thinks I’m lying? I am lying. They didn’t invite me to get together this weekend, but he’ll never know.
And he’ll never know anything else about me, either. There’s no way I can be with a guy who saw me at my worst. How could he respect me after catching a face-full of kryptonite panties? We can never have anything meaningful together.
As I walk up the stairs, I can’t help but take another surreptitious glance at him. He’s chatting with the other four, and they’re laughing over something he said. I wish I could belong there, with someone by my side…like Jan and Sammi, but…
I deflate like a poorly made soufflé. For a moment there, it really felt like CJ could’ve been The One.
Chapter Four
CJ
The second Michelle exits the living room, the electric vibe drops three notches and my body stops buzzing. Weird as hell—I’ve never felt that from anyone else before. It sizzled through me when she smiled at the sushi restaurant too, which was unsettling as hell. I appreciate a good smile from a woman, but the reaction Michelle elicited was too extreme. Those eyes were like pools of caramel you could drown in.
I peer at Jan. I grew up in the same neighborhood as the Darlings, but she’s the one I know the least about, since she didn’t join the family until she was older. Her mom was supposedly some kind of wild child. Jan doesn’t look particularly wild, but still…she did bring Matt down. Kind of a shock, because I always figured he’d know better. Although his specialty is corporate law, he must’ve seen some ugly divorces. Didn’t they sour him, even a little bit, on the idea of matrimony?
On the other hand, Jan is pretty. And she’s rich. So not such a bad catch if you have to put yourself on a path to inevitable hell.
Sammi props her chin on a hand and studies me as though I’m a problem to solve. That’s disconcerting. I’m never a problem. I’m the solution.
Matt hands me a beer, and I nurse it through half an hour of chitchat.
“Does Michelle go to her parents on weekends a lot?” I ask when there’s a small break and can stick the question in. Something tells me she doesn’t really have breakfast with her parents.
“About once a month?” Sammi says. “That’s the only time I see her up early. Normally she sleeps her weekend mornings away.”
Jan adds, “She needs it. She works long and hard.”
“Oh?” I’ve learned all three girls work at Sweet Darlings, Inc., coincidentally owned by Alexandra Darling, the woman who mentored me in business. The department that works the longest hours is naturally app dev, which will be full of young men. I try to imagine Michelle in an ultra-feminine top, skirt and stilettos surrounded by guys, and I don’t like the picture…even though it’s in an office, they’re all probably geeks and nothing inappropriate happens.
And I’m certain none of them got what I got—her panties. Which are tucked in my back pocket for safekeeping.
“Whose team is she on?” I ask casually.
Sammi blinks. “Team?”
“Aren’t there eight app dev team leads in the office?”
“Yeah, but…she works for HR,” Jan says.
“HR…?” Tension I didn’t know I had eases, and I feel like laughing. But… “Does HR really work that hard?”
“She has a part-time gig, too. Working for a PI,” Jan explains.
“She’s a detective?”
“She works as bait,” Sammi says. “A lure to men who might be thinking about cheating on their wives. Or whoever.”
The buoyant sensation I had earlier turns positively euphoric. My God. Michelle’s perfect. Absolutely, utterly perfect. Given her side gig, she must share my outlook on relationships. There’s nothing worse than being with a woman who believes in fairytale endings, and I want to be with Michelle. A lot. Hiding my satisfaction, I ask, “How long’s she been doing that?”
“A while.” Sammi is still giving me that “you’re a problem I need to solve” look.
“She’s really good,” Matt adds.
I bet. What man would turn down a woman like that? She has the face of an angel and the body of Jezebel. No wonder that guy at the sushi restaurant was upset. This explains so much.
“It’s too bad she doesn’t have a good man for herself,” Jan says. “I feel like she’s pulling back a little because she’s the only single girl in our group.”
Luke frowns. “Is she? I didn’t notice anything like that.”
Sammi squeezes his hand. “We don’t expect you to. You’re a man, not a mind reader.” She turns back to the group. “Anyway, yeah, Michelle needs a guy. Good in bed, rich, handsome, faithful and adores her. That’s it. Simple.”
Jan nods. “Totally easy.”
“I should get her on a new site.”
“A site?” I ask.
“A dating site, obviously. But I’m also on a lookout for eligible guys in real life, too.”
Annoyance bleeds into my mood. I sip my beer, wondering if these women think I’m chopped liver. Not to brag, but I’m good in bed, rich and available. I’ll be faithful as long as we’re together, and I’ll adore the hell out of her body.
On the other hand, maybe they don’t want to talk about me in front of me. Well, it doesn’t matter. Michelle’s not getting a man via some dating site or Sammi’s real-life star search. I’ll show her I meet all five of the “simple” criteria.
Chapter Five
Michelle
The next day starts on a super-high note. I’m in my newest and freshly laundered Agent Provocateur lingerie, a fitted sleeveless merlot dress and killer strappy heels in black. My hair is extra bouncy, my eyes are bigger and brighter—thanks to the new makeup technique I used—and my lips are an extra-juicy red.
I arrive at work eleven minutes early, rather than my usual ten. Not even traffic wants to get in my way.
What a difference good lingerie can make.
I go to my desk on the ninth floor. Most of the admin functions are there, including the expense team. While my computer downloads my email, I check the day’s agenda. There’s a meeting at ten to discuss new recruiting strategies, and I need to draft a company-wide email to get volunteers to host panels for our sponsored talks at colleges. A lot of students would love to work at Sweet Darlings, Inc., so we don’t have to spend all that money to visit universities. But we always make sure we have a strong campus presence throughout the year to encourage more female students to go into technology. We’re positioned to do that better than any other firm out there.
Sweet Darlings is a privately owned company that specializes in a mobile app that users can use to upload, organize and share their photos. It’s popular with parents with kids because of the strict privacy controls. The CEO and founder, Alexandra Darling, could take the company public and make a bundle, but she doesn’t want any outside interference. She has a firm vision for the business, and having to answer to antsy investors every quarter has no place in it. And she aggressively recruits and nurtures talent and gives talks throughout the year to help young women see the possibilities in a career in high tech.
My desk phone rings. “Michelle Malone speaking.”
“Good morning, Michelle. This is Ophelia Mason.”
I sit up a little straighter. Ophelia is Alexandra Darling’s assistant, and you can consider whatever comes out of her mouth as Alexandra’s directive. “Good morning, Ophelia. What can I do for you?”
“Alexandra would like to see you in ten. Would that be convenient?”
Haha, she’s so funny. Asking if I can accommodate the CEO. “Sure. I’ll be right up.”
Just in case, I grab a fresh yellow legal pad and two pens and rearrange my hair so the waves fall over my shoulders without getting in my face.
Alexandra’s office is on the fifteenth floor. Ophelia is sitting outside at a curved oak desk. Not that many people impress me with their fashion sense, but she does. A polished brunette in her early thirties, she knows how to contour correctly—unlike most women—and can pull off any color combination, no matter how outrageous. Today she’s in a bright orange sleeveless top with ivory lace trim, green denim skirt and aquamarine pumps.
“Thanks for coming up so quickly,” Ophelia says with a smooth smile. “Please go in. She’s waiting for you.”
I nod and walk inside without bothering to try for a hint of what this meeting is about. I’ve never seen Ophelia gossip with anybody…ever. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t welcome other people sharing things with her. She just won’t share anything in return.
The CEO’s corner office has floor-to-ceiling windows and muted gray carpeting. Her furniture is contemporary and chic, and her black laptop’s hooked to an external monitor and a black keyboard that pulses with purple, pink, red and blue lights. I have no idea how she can work with a distraction like that.
Alexandra is at the wet bar, which is stocked with flat and sparkling waters, sodas and juices. Unlike some, she doesn’t indulge in alcohol while working. Her steel-gray bob doesn’t have a single strand out of place, and her makeup is muted and elegant, like the woman herself. Unlike her flamboyant assistant, she’s in a knee-length coral summer dress with white lilies at the hem of her skirt.
“Good morning, Michelle.”
“Good morning.” I flash her a warm, professional smile. Alexandra is Jan’s grandmother, but at work she’s the CEO, and I treat her that way.
I take the couch she gestures toward, and she joins me, gracefully falling into a nearby armchair. “I’m not sure if you heard about the campaign we’re launching to attract users beyond our usual demographic,” she says.
“Actually, no.” I’m in HR, not the NSA. Now that Jan’s no longer in marketing—and Sammi’s stopped mooning over the marketing manager—I don’t hear much about what they’re up to.
“Well, let me bring you up to date. We’ve selected several people from different walks of life to show how they use our app to preserve their cherished moments and share them with loved ones. We have a college football player, an executive, a single career woman and a former Silicon Valley entrepreneur.”
When she doesn’t continue, I smile. “That sounds amazing,” I say, although I’m still not sure why she’s talking to me about the campaign. If there’s an HR incident, my boss, Mimi Kim, should handle it.
“I’m glad you think so. Anyway, to get the candidates started, we decided to help them with a liaison of their own who can assist them. I noticed you have a robust public album called ‘Dream Life,’ which I started following some years ago.”
“Thank you…?” I had no idea Alexandra viewed that album. I started it to share some of the photos of beautiful scenes I wanted to capture and remember.
She beams. “And I thought you’d be just the liaison for one of the people we have lined up for the campaign.”
Huh. “Who?”
“The entrepreneur.”
“The Silicon Valley guy? Will I need to go to San Mateo?” We have an office there, but I don’t want to go. All my friends and family are here in Virginia.
“As it happens, no. He moved back to Virginia recently.” She beams again.
I beam back, since I can’t think of any other response. At least I won’t have to relocate. But I’ve heard stories about those Silicon Valley types from Sammi, who’s an app developer, and none of them sounded good. Words like “megalomaniac” and “insufferable” were used, and that’s never good when coming from someone like my blunt best friend.
“Just so you know, I already cleared it with Mimi. She thought it’d be great for you to do this project too. A chance to take the initiative and shine.”
