"A... condition?" you ask warily.
He smiles, and you note how perfect his teeth are. Perfectly white, perfectly straight.
"Nothing too horrible. I hope. I simply refuse to pay unless you have your coffee with me."
"Oh. Well, that doesn't sound so bad," you say, noting that his shoulders are broad; he must work out, you think.
"Glad you think so," he says wryly, and you redden a bit as you realize how you sounded. While you think of how to apologize he orders you a coffee.
"I can take that," you offer, but he just chuckles and holds it away from you.
"And give you a chance to make a run for it?" he says, jokingly. You hope.
"Do these heels look like I could run in them?" you ask, lifting a foot up.
He inspects you work-out toned calf for longer than is necessary before finally shaking his head.
"Not really, but you look pretty nimble on your feet. Lead the way to a table."
You hesitate a moment before lowering your foot back to the floor, and realize that he probably wants to ogle your long legs and tight butt.
Practice being the character, the assistant had said, so you decide to add some extra wiggle to your walk, and you're certain it has his eyes glued firmly to your derriere.
Sure enough, when you swivel to a table you catch his eyes south of the border, and smirk a little to yourself. Enticing men isn't so hard, you've got this character in the bag.
You sit with your back to the wall, allowing you to see everyone, while his seat allows him to see only you. Which is just what you want. If you have to practice being an attention-getter you might as well get as much of it as you can.
"You never told me your name," you say, dusting the chair and making sure to lean forward as you sit, giving the still standing man a look down your unfettered cleavage.
"Uh, you never told me yours," he counters.
"On the count of three, then?" you say with an arched brow.
He smiles, nods, and plops himself down on the chair without bothering to check if some kid had left a present. Very guy-like, you think.
"One, two," he counts, making you blink as you realize he took you literally, "three. Brad St. Clair."
"Uh, Ashley Banks."
"With my razor-sharp mind I detected some hesitation there, Ashley Banks."
"Well, Mister St. Clair..." you shake your head. "Is it really St. Clair? That feels awkward on the tongue."
He makes a clucking sound and shakes his head, "Not a smooth start, Ms. Banks. Insulting your benefactor's name, especially while he still holds the goods you're bargaining for, isn't the best of strategies."
"Bargaining for?" you ask, lifting your brow. "I thought we were past the bargaining Whatever else were you hoping for?" |