“He came up a few minutes after you handed him the key.”
She clapped her hands together, drawing the attention of the diners in the back. I eyed her, and she threw her hands up in apology. “Sorry. I knew he would. Who could resist you?”
“Oh, please.” I rolled my eyes.
“So what happened?”
I sighed, thinking about how close he’d taken me to the edge before pulling me back. “We’re taking it slow.”
Her shoulders dropped. “Slow? Who has time for slow?”
Heat flushed my cheeks as the memory of his tongue between my thighs ignited the ache that flared every time I thought about him. I shifted in my seat, leaning further over my risotto.
“So are you dating? I thought he didn’t do that.” She tilted her head.
I shrugged. “I think we are.”
She squinted at me. “You’re serious?”
“Why not?”
“Because he’s Rory Jackson.”
“And I’m Paige Turner. So what?”
“You know his reputation. I was all for you using him for a little list checking, but a relationship? Is that…smart for you?”
Guilt twisted my insides. There wasn’t a time in my life I’d ever lied to Jeannine. Or Bailey for that matter. Now, with the deal I’d struck with Rory, we’d be lying to everyone—kind of. It was complicated. I couldn’t risk them knowing, though. It wouldn’t make sense to them, and it definitely wouldn’t be good if word got around I practically hired one of Seattle’s hottest Sharks to be my sex slave. Ugh. When you put it that way...
I reached across the bar and squeezed her wrist. “I love you for looking out for me, but you know I’m a smart girl. I don’t go into any situation blind, and I know exactly what to expect when it comes to Rory Jackson. I’ve been given a first class seat to his many...one night relationships. I won’t get hurt.”
She eyed me skeptically, almost as if she could see through my line of bullshit. I wouldn’t doubt her the ability, but I was thankful she didn’t press the issue.
“All right,” she said, finally, her light smile returning to her face. “Did he talk about his stick and Shark stats all night?”
I chuckled. “No. We didn’t actually talk...much.”
She arched an eyebrow. “You dirty girl!”
I couldn’t help but join her laughter. Lord, we could’ve been in high school again. Only now the men we discussed were more than capable, incredibly hot, prospects. “I know! I’m terrible!”
“No, you’re not.” She fiddled with the collar of her jacket. “You went after what you wanted. Always have. I love that about you. I wish I had half your courage.”
“Please, I wouldn’t have made the list without you pushing it. And look at the success you have!”
“I don’t have an evening with Rory Jackson under my belt!”
“I don’t either.” I shoved another quick bite into my mouth. “Not technically.”
“At least tell me he’s a good kisser,” she begged.
The memory of his mouth was imprinted on my soul, his tongue was that magical. “Yes. In fact, I’ve never had better.”
“Shut up!” she giggled. “Damn. Think about how good it’ll be when you finally sleep with him.
A warm shiver shook my core. “I have.”
“Unless it’s all build and no backing it up.”
My fork clinked against the plate. “Thanks for being a Debbie Downer.” I shook my head. “Besides,” I leaned forward, lowering my voice to a whisper. “There is no possible way he could be bad. I practically soak my panties every time the man walks into the room.”
She hissed, fanning herself as I returned to my meal. “Wait. You’ve seen him since Donaldson’s event?”
“Twice.” I grinned. “I ran into him at Aroma’s and then invited him over for dinner later that night.”
“You are so bad!”
I nodded. “He actually found me there.”
“Like, sought you out?”
“Mmmhmm,” I mumbled around another forkful. “Got the info from Bailey. Not that it took much, I bet. The two of you would probably make him a key and give him my security code if he asked for it.”
She laughed. “Can you blame us? Look at you! You’re blushing just talking about him, and that smile on your face has to hurt because you’ve been wearing it since I brought him up!”
I touched my cheeks, forcing myself to drop the schoolgirl grin.
“Pulling the Bailey card is smart. Seeking you out and now dating?” She rubbed her hands together. “He fell for you quick. That’s a record. Way faster than Kevin. What it’d take him, three weeks?”
“Stop it. Kevin was in high school…but yes, he dropped the L-bomb after only three weeks.”
Not that Rory would ever use that word.
“When are you seeing him next?”
“I don’t know, the next high school reunion?”
She planted me with a firm gaze that told me she wasn’t talking about Kevin.
“I’m not exactly sure.”
“Why the hell not?”
“He said he’d call.”
She sighed and took a good swig of my scotch. “Well, I sure as hell hope he does quick. You have to indulge while you can, and we didn’t set any repeating clauses on the dirty-girl list. You could check off number seven until you can barely walk.”
I swallowed my bite a little too quickly. “Jesus, Jeannine!”
“Seriously. No one would ever know.”
I dabbed my lips with a napkin. “Because gossip surrounding the bad boys of the Sharks never makes headlines? Please. That’s why we’re taking it slow. So the media sees we’re both serious about…” I let my sentence hang there, my imagination running wild with every way the media could destroy my name and that of the company I was meant to head.
“I get that,” she said. “It’s just…”
“What?” I asked after she’d held her breath for a few moments.
“You’ve always been in control, constantly maintained the good-girl image your family—and now your position—has demanded of you. It’d be nice to see you let someone else take care of you for a change. I hope whatever you two are doing at least accomplishes that.”