Part 6 (1/2)
”It's a good thing my junk is insured, Lorraine. I'm convinced you're going to tear the thing off one of these days.”
”No,” she said with a knowing grin, ”I like your movies too much! Beaber Feber is my favorite!” She waggled her eyebrows at me and threw her head back with a laugh that made my skin crawl.
”Do you mean Beaver Fever?” The misp.r.o.nunciation was a train wreck I didn't even want to think about.
”That's what I say! Beaber Feber! Don't you speak English?”
She went on a tirade in Korean that I could only imagine had something to do with stupid Americans and their inability to understand their own language.
I bit my tongue and let her do her thing while my b.a.l.l.s finally came out from their hiding place just beneath my tonsils.
”You have hot date tonight?”
”Sort of,” I sat up from the table and reached for the jeans around my ankles, ”I mean, she's hot, I just don't know where it's gonna lead. Clearly, I hope to take her to bed, but she's not like other women. She's a bit hot headed and a lot guarded. It wasn't such a good combination for our first encounter. She's almost kind of scary.”
”Ooh,” she said with a solemn nod, ”You really like her. I see.”
”No!” I defended, ”It's not like that at all!”
”No no no,” the three words came out as one, ”I see your eyes change when you talk about her. Is okay. You need to be careful though. Don't let her break my favorite client!”
She scampered through the door before I had a chance to convince her that I was only trying to get in with her casting firm.
I had already banged my way into one industry; I wasn't above doing it again.
I jerked my jeans up around my hips and fastened my belt before walking out into the lobby to pay the bill for my torture session.
”Always a pleasure, Lorraine,” I said as I signed the credit card receipt.
”The pleasure is always for me,” she replied with a wink.
My smile faltered and I waved awkwardly as she once again began to laugh at her own joke. She had an insane talent for making a run-of-the-mill appointment to wax my b.a.l.l.s an intense exercise in awkwardness.
Unfortunately, she was the best, and I only used the best. Especially when my d.i.c.k was on the line.
I slid my aviators back into place as I stepped onto the sidewalk and into the late-afternoon sun. I'd made it out of the appointment with time to spare and headed for my Land Rover.
As I drove, I tried to piece together how the impending conversation would go.
She'd still be frosty for sure, but even her ice queen act couldn't hold up against my charm for too long. I would just have to pour on the boy-next-door appeal and come off as harmless. If she knew my angle, she'd shut down in a heartbeat.
Holly Nash would definitely not fall for the bad boy p.o.r.n star act that got me between most thighs. No, Miss Nash was going to take some work. Work that I fully intended on turning into a game.
With any luck, we'd both enjoy it in the end.
I pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant ten minutes before seven and parked in a stall at the back of the building. The mirror in the driver's side visor helped me soften my appearance a bit. I pressed my hair forward and the bangs up and to the side so that I almost had a pompadour. There wasn't much I could do about the scruff on my jaw, but the aviators had to go.
Those few simple changes made me less predatory and a little more innocent looking than I'd ever been in my life.
A clean shave would've been the perfect touch, but there was only so much I could do in the front seat of my SUV with only five minutes before we were supposed to meet.
After a final once-over, I locked up and headed for the front door.
”Can I help you?”
”I have a reservation for seven-thirty under Hale.”
The gentleman glanced down at the podium he stood behind before nodding his head curtly, ”Of course, Mr. Hale. Right this way.”
I followed him to an intimate booth in the back corner of the main dining room.
”Shall I bring your guest straight back?”
”That'd be great. Her name is Holly Nash. She'll probably ask for me by name.”
”Of course, sir. Your waiter will be right with you.”
”Thanks, Jeeves.”
I could see the change in his eyes the moment I said it and had to exercise every ounce of my self-control to not laugh in his face at my own joke.
The poor guy probably heard it all day long every day.
I made a mental note to tip well in hopes that he'd get a cut of it at the end of the night.
”Good evening, sir,” a twenty-something gentleman in a crisp white b.u.t.ton up and cheap black slacks gave me an award-winning customer service smile, ”Can I start you off with something to drink while you wait for your dinner guest?”
”Water would be great for both of us and I'd also like a bottle of the best Merlot you have.”
”Of course, sir. I'll have your water out right away and deliver the bottle when your guest arrives.”
”Thanks.”
He had recognized me. I could tell by the way he kept glancing down at my crotch. The only reason I chose fine dining over fast food was the fact that the staff were all so used to waiting on celebrities that they didn't get all fangirl crazy on you in public.
Usually.
I spotted Jeeves heading toward my booth with Holly in tow and my palms began to sweat.
What the f.u.c.k?
I never get nervous around women.
I wiped my hands on my jeans as I rose to greet her. Instead of the more intimate kiss kiss on the cheek that women tended to try with me, she went in for the kill with a very formal, very firm handshake. Her grip provided a sharp contrast to the sensation of her painfully soft skin beneath my fingertips.
The sensation shot a jolt of pure desire up my arm and straight to my groin.
”Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”
Such a lame f.u.c.k.