And it wasn’t as if I’d invited him to a deserted house at the end of an isolated road. I’d invited him to an event that cost a pretty penny for a ticket, where security would be top-notch.
I crossed my fingers that he’d show.
“You’re in a good mood,” John said, then grabbed my arm protectively. He tipped his head toward the chatter and hum of the men at the desks behind me. “And get in here. Everyone is staring at you. Don’t you own a jacket?”
I laughed with my red-lipsticked mouth wide open, and shook my head. “It’s July. It’s close to a hundred degrees outside. Why on earth would I wear a jacket?”
“Why on earth do you insist on wearing a dress everywhere you go? It doesn’t even have sleeves,” he countered as he tugged me into his office and shut the door.
“Thank heavens for the lack of sleeves.” I raised my chin up high. “And you never know who you might meet. I certainly don’t want to be wearing a sweatsuit when I meet the future love of my life.”
“Perish the thought,” he muttered.
My eyes widened. “I might bump into Mr. Right anywhere.”
He scoffed and waved broadly at the offices and desks behind me. “You better hope you’re not meeting the love of your life here.”
But really, you never knew. My mother had met my father at a fruit stand in a farmers’ market on the outskirts of town when she was buying a pineapple from him. They’d locked eyes across the citrus, and the rest was history—thirty-five years of insanely happy marriage and two kids. I could recall many nights when I’d snuck out of bed as a kid and found them slow dancing in the living room to Ella Fitzgerald, looking so in love.
A love launched by a pineapple.
“In any case, Captain John Buzzkill Winston,” I said, fishing around in my cherry-red purse to find what I’d come here for, “here is the transponder to get into my building.” I pressed the flat white object into his palm. “Just wave it at the gate, and you can get into the garage. I have two spots. Use one twenty-one or one twenty-two.”
“Thank you,” he said, tapping the device. “Fucking termites. I really appreciate you letting me stay with you. I’d stay with one of the guys, but . . .”
I cut him off. “You’ll do no such thing. Men who live alone live like pigs. Think of it as a vacation at the Ritz. Or really, the Veer,” I said, since I lived in a penthouse condo at that luxurious building on the Strip, and it was as close to the Ritz as one could get. “I’ll be leaving at six thirty sharp for the benefit. You sure you can’t come?”
“No time for a benefit.”
I pouted. “But you look so cute when you clean up,” I said, then squeezed his cheek.
He hissed.
“Oh, you don’t scare me with your hisses. You might scare all those poor little suspects you question, but I know you’re just a hush puppy underneath.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re killing me.”
“I know. It’s so much fun to embarrass you.”
He held up a finger warning me not to.
Oh, but it was too fun to needle him like this. “Don’t try on my shoes tonight while I’m out. Just promise me that,” I said as I opened the door, then pressed my fingers to my mouth in an oops gesture. He huffed, and I walked out, winking at the mustached man at the desk a few feet away. “Hi, Gavin. Don’t you work too hard.”
“I promise I won’t, Sophie,” he said, then followed me with his puppy-dog eyes. “That is, if you’ll finally go out with me.”
I clasped my hand on my heart. “Oh, Gavin. You know I want to. But John just won’t let his little sister date one of the guys he works with.”
Gavin frowned, as he always did when I playfully said no, since he always asked.
I said hello to another guy I knew. “Hey there, Jason. You look handsome today. Say hello to Evie and the boys for me.”
Jason gave a quick salute. “I will. She said to tell you she loved your peach pie recipe.”
“I am so pleased to hear that. My sweet mother left that one for me. It’s divine,” I said, then blew a big communal kiss off my palm to the whole lot of them. As I pictured the red lips floating through the air, I caught one last look at my brother. He scowled from behind the glass in his office.
I winked, then walked out.
I, Sophie Winston, was a certified flirt. I hadn’t always been one. Growing up, I was 100 percent geek. But those days were gone, and now I could be this woman. Flirting was like champagne to me—it gave me a rush, and I loved it. Besides, it let me bide my time. Until it could be more than flirting. Until it could become the real thing.
Maybe someday I’d meet someone I’d want to do more than flirt with, who’d want me in the same way. I wasn’t entirely sure what that would feel like, but I craved that kind of connection.
I’d had a mere two lovers in my life, but I knew what I wanted.
I knew what turned me on.
As I returned to my car and started the engine, an image of the man in the green tie slipped into my mind. Of the way I’d felt when he’d stared at me—as if I were being hunted. How I loved that kind of hungry gaze. How I longed to be the prey.
A man who stared at me that way was enough to make me get down on my knees, and that was exactly where I wanted to be.
3
Ryan
As Johnny Cash leaped to catch the Frisbee in midair in my backyard, I scrolled through the search results. The sun inched closer to the horizon, still pelting bolts of pure summer swelter from the sky. I’d already taken a dip in my pool to cool off when I’d arrived home a few minutes ago, and the water had done the trick . . . momentarily.
After quickly tracking down the gala details on my phone in the parking lot, and snagging a pricy ticket for a benefit to raise money for a new children’s wing at a local hospital, I had headed to the gym for a quick workout. Now, after five miles on the treadmill as I answered emails from clients and several rounds of weights, I had some time to dig deeper into my possible date tonight.
To learn more than simply the name of the event.
My black-and-white border collie mix raced to my side, nudging my bare leg with the purple Frisbee, etched with teeth marks around the rim. Johnny Cash was addicted to this Frisbee. I understood deeply the dog’s single-minded focus.
“Ready for another?”
The dog thumped his tail on the emerald-green grass. From under the big yellow umbrella on the deck of the pool, I cocked my arm and Johnny Cash took off racing, barreling to the far corner of the yard, around the water, and past a cluster of palm trees that shaded the edge of my property. I tossed the Frisbee then glanced down at the iPad again, hunting for any clue that might yield a name for the bombshell.
She’d said something on the phone about raising money, so perhaps she worked for the hospital, heading up its fundraising maybe. I scanned the event page more closely. Tonight’s fete was a silent auction with drinks and hors d’oeuvres, as well as a performance by a well-known Vegas torch singer. All the town’s glitterati would be there. Probably even some of my clients, since the security firm my brother Michael and I ran had contracts with many of the city’s top spenders.