Compromising Positions (An Erotic Romance Novel) (10 page)

Permanently.

But, first, he needed to draft a marketing report. Pronto!

When he returned to Fate’s office, he answered her silent inquiry with a smile. “I told you I’d pissed off the brass. I’m such a stupid ass sometimes.”

“It had nothing to do with me?”

He gulped. “Nothing.” Damn, he hated lying to her! “It had nothing to do with you. They love you.”

Her soft smile of relief touched his heart and left him regretting the lie even more. But what the hell else could he do? He was between the proverbial rock and hard place.

In fact, that would not be the last lie he told her, no doubt about it.

He swallowed a boulder of regret and sat back in his chair. “You want to get back to the report? Duncan wants our first draft on his desk by Monday.”

“Monday? Oh, my God! We don’t have a single section done yet. How will we get it finished in time?”

“Don’t worry. We can work together. Between the two of us, we can get it done, even if we have to work all weekend long.”

Maybe Duncan had done him a favor… Images of the two of them cozy in his place sent another blaze to his cock. His pants grew instantly snug.

Thank God for demanding bosses!

Genius can be a very subjective thing.

Fate’s appointment at the dating service took much longer than she expected. She interviewed, posed for pictures, and made a video. Then she scoured the files of dozens of men. It was exhausting.

Yet, she found one. An optometrist. Her age, similar interests. They had a lunch date for tomorrow.

After thanking the very kind, very patient, staff at Let’s Do Lunch, she went home and fell right into bed. And of course had nightmares about the date. So much for high hopes. The next morning, she followed her usual routine, and arrived at work ten minutes late, as usual.

Gabe’s grin was a welcome sight. “How’d you do last night?” A sight for sore eyes. In fact, he looked damn good today.

“I have a lunch date today, but boy, what an ordeal! It was hard finding the right guy. My age, similar interests. I can’t tell you how many videos I watched.”

“Yeah, same here. That got me thinking.”

She dropped into her chair and checked her message slips. “About what?”

Gabe scooted his chair over to her desk and parked it in its usual spot, close enough to hers for her to smell his aftershave. “Our target market, our niche. I have an idea.”

“Let it fly. I’m listening.” She leaned back and prepared for some crazy scheme. She almost chuckled as she watched him. He looked so excited, his features danced with enthusiasm. Could he be any sexier?

“I think we should group charge them membership fees based on the group they belong to.”

What had he said? Somehow his words ended up scrambled by the time they reached her brain. “I’m not following you.”

“We could group applicants by age, education, physical appearance.”

“I don’t know. That sounds a little shallow. Like grading meat.”

He shrugged. “That’s the way the world works, Fate. Like it or not. Don’t you think a gorgeous twenty-something woman would pay a little extra to meet a handsome, successful guy…” He puffed up his chest like a rooster on steroids and winked. “…like myself?”

She laughed. He just loved to exaggerate, and it was damn endearing. “So, carrying this idea a little further. What do we do with the ones that don’t fit the mold for Prime Grade when they want to be a part of it?”

“Don’t tell them?”

This idea was just rubbing her the wrong way, and as she watched Gabe toy with a pencil eraser, she wished those fingers were rubbing her…the right way. “Okay, granted, if there had been such a system, I would probably have saved a huge chunk of time last night, but I’m still not sure this whole thing is fair.”

“Nothing’s fair.”

Got that right. She glanced down at her desk. It was useless. Staring at him emptied her mind. How the hell could she carry on a conversation? She rummaged around for the lost thought. Oh, yeah! “Let me ask you this, then. Where do we get all those successful, busy, men? Many of them are more apt to avoid our service because they’re not in the market for a wife, and second—“

“We offer them free membership.”

“What?” He’s an idiot, he’s definitely an idiot. “We can’t do that. It’s completely unfair to make all the women pay and not the men.”

“Well, if they’re the ones looking for the service, shouldn’t they pay?”

She tried like hell to follow his logic, but it was too twisted. “So are the guys.”

“Not really. They’ll sign a membership because they don’t have anything to lose. The women’ll sign because they want something. See? Not the same at all.” He smacked his hand down on the desk and stood in triumph. “It’s genius! We’ll have new members flooding in.”

Did she really have to put her name on the marketing report?

“And here I was going to suggest we stick with something safe, like quality customer service.”

“We’ll have that, too. We’ll treat them like kings and queens. They’ll love us! We’ll be the biggest thing to hit Detroit since Ford Motor.”

His enthusiasm was amusing, the way it lit his face and made him hop around like a child at Christmas. She’d like to have him sit on her lap. She’d give him a nice gift…“Don’t you think you’re going just a little overboard?”

“The brass’ll love it! They’ll see dollar signs. We’ll both get to keep our jobs.” He dropped into his chair. “Damn, I’m good.”

The cocky smile was just cute enough to make her crotch tingle. “No comment.” She hated the idea, wondered if it was fertile ground for lawsuits, but what the heck? She had nothing better. And Monday wasn’t all that far away. “What about advertising?”

“We’ll look at some demographics. I’d say radio. Drive time.”

She shook her head. “Big money there.”

“Print advertising in some local papers, edgy papers like Metro Detroit?”

“That’s doable. But how will we advertise this? We can’t put the groups in our ads if we’re going to be selective.”

“Yes, selective. Not discriminating. Hmmm. Maybe you’re right.” He leaned forward and reached across her desk, clearly targeting her legal pad. She wished he was targeting something else. Why was he so damned focused today? “May I?”

She handed it to him, and their fingertips brushed. A zap shot up her arm and down to her crotch. She dropped the pad.

He smiled.

“How the hell do you do that?” She rubbed her fingertips.

“Do what?” The come-hither waggle of eyebrows suggested he knew exactly what she meant.

Well, at least he was flirting a little. She’d begun to think he had lost interest already.

Another jolt shot through her body as she recalled yesterday’s events in that very room. She’d been so close to…so ready to… Oh God! She’d wanted him. Plain and simple.

And as she studied the face she’d thought she’d despised for six years, she realized she’d always wanted him. That thought sent her heart into her throat.

Yes, love and hate were very close to the same thing. How did that proverb go?

She spent the rest of the morning wrestling with her body’s reaction to his nearness and her mind’s insistence on wandering. While he was much more focused on work today, and less apt to tempt her with intentional innuendo and teasing, she still was completely turned on by mid-morning. Her crotch ached for him. Her nerve endings raw, sensitized. Every sensation exaggerated. In a nutshell, she was a mess.

And as the lunch hour neared, she added a whole heap of regret to the mix. For some reason, going on a date with another man just felt wrong. Sure, she wasn’t dating Gabe. But, but…she wanted to.

Strike her dead with a lightning bolt! She was ready to revisit Gabe Land.

Gabe gave her a quick slap on the shoulder as she left, and wished her luck on her date. Expecting the opposite, she rehearsed a few dozen excuses to give the guy when she arrived at the restaurant. Why do this? The actual date wouldn’t do anything to further their research.

Yeah…hey! What was Gabe up to now?

Feeling like a trap would spring the minute she stepped inside the restaurant, she tensed. Her neck and shoulders became instantly stiff. Great!

She approached the hostess. “Hi, I’m meeting someone. My name’s Fate—“

The hostess, a bouncy blonde with a perfect body, interrupted. “This way, please.”

Now, that was service. She followed, catching a glimpse of a good looking guy at a nearby table. Blond hair, cut short, tanned skin, athletic. That was him. In the flesh. And just as good looking in person as he was in the video.

Was he a jerk? She almost hoped he was. It would make her hasty escape that much easier.

The hostess stopped at the table and waited for Fate to sit. “Can I get you something to drink?”

Fate looked at the guy, and noted he had a cola. “I’ll take a diet.”

“Okay. Be right back.” The hostess bounced away, saying over her shoulder. “Your waitress will be with you in just a minute.”

Fate watched her walk away then turned. Mr. Optometrist wore a pasted on grin that suggested he was as uncomfortable as she was. “I’m sorry. I have no idea what to say. I’ve never been on a blind date.”

“Me, neither. At least we have that much in common. Name’s John. John Cameron.” He offered his hand. “Good to meet you.”

“Fate Doherty.” She took his hand in hers, gave it a shake and released it. “This is so weird.”

He nodded. “You’re my first date through Let’s do Lunch.”

“Then I guess I can’t ask you how you like the service, eh?”

His movements were slow and intentional as he lifted his glass and took a sip. Not once did she note a wandering gaze. Considering the crowd at the restaurant, that was something to respect. “So far, I like it just fine.”

“What made you go to a dating service?”

“I’ll only answer that question if you will too.”

She nodded, and silently thanked the young man who delivered her drink. “Deal.”

“I wanted to find someone to spend time with, but I don’t go many places where I’d meet women.”

“What about your work?”

“The ladies who work with me are all married. And dating patients is a sure road to court.”

She nodded. “I can see that.”

“What about you?”

“Well, um…” She tried to decide what to tell him. He seemed like a nice enough guy. She couldn’t lie. What if he liked her? Wanted a second date? “I’m doing research.”

“What kind of research?”

“On dating services. I can’t go into detail, because I wouldn’t want to get my employer into trouble. Let’s just say I’m comparison shopping?”

He smiled and nodded. “Got it. So, guess that means I shouldn’t expect a second date, assuming we got along today.”

“Probably not.”

Those two words seemed to lift a two ton truck off the man’s shoulders. He visibly relaxed and chattered through the entire meal. At the end, she briefly considered accepting a second date and even took his card.

*****

Gabe had never seen rainbow-hued hair before, well, not in a long time. Last he’d seen anyone with Kool-Aid dyed hair was at his buddy’s tattoo parlor in downtown Royal Oak. And it had left him speechless.

He didn’t have the luxury of being tongue-tied this time.

What he did for love!

He stood and offered his hand, his gaze hopping from one embellishment to another. A silver ring in her eyebrow, a diamond stud in her nose, and a silver ball protruding from her chin. While he wasn’t completely immune to the appeal of exotic piercings, this little lady had taken personal adornment to the extreme. “Gabe Ryan. Nice to meet you.”

“Starr Crossing.” She took his hand and gave it a quick shake before dropping into the chair across from him.

“That’s really your name?”

“Check it out.” Gum snapping, she flipped open her fuzzy pink backpack and produced a Social Security card. Printed in black and white: Starr Crossing.

He handed her card back across the table. “That’s an usual name. I like it.”

“I hated it when I was a kid. Don’t mind it so much now.” She flagged the waitress and ordered a martini then eyed his empty cola glass. “And another one for him too, whatever he’s drinking.”

“Thanks,” he said.

“People tell me I’m too aggressive. I don’t see it that way. I just see what needs to be done, and I do it.” She tossed her purse aside and slung her arms over the back of her chair. “So, what’s your story?”

He dumped an ice cube into his mouth and chewed. “Not much to tell, really.”

“Everyone has a story.”

“Maybe. But mine’s pretty dull.”

“You? Dull? For some reason, I highly doubt that.” The waiter brought the drinks and Starr thanked him and swallowed her martini in one gulp. Sheesh! He’d never seen a woman who could drink like that. She ordered a second then eyed him with a gaze much too steady for a woman who couldn’t weigh more than one hundred pounds, and who’d just downed gin like water. “No, I’m guessing you’re a lot like me. You see what you want, and you go for it. You’re confident in your masculinity. An animal in bed—”

Heat shot to his face. “Whoa! What makes you say that?”

She pointed at his wrist. “The watch.”

“It was a gift from my niece, and I’ll wear anything she gives me. The kid has me wrapped around her little finger.”

She smiled. “It says a lot about you.”

“A watch?” He gulped, not at all pleased with her expression. If he had to put a name to it, he’d call it the barracuda-in-a-trout-pond look.

“Are you into tantric sex?”

“Not on a first date.” He downed half his cola.

She sighed. “That’s too bad. I took off the afternoon, just in case.”

“Good planning. Damn!” He slammed his hand on the table, feigning disappointment. “I should have thought to do that. But stupid me, I figured we’d just do lunch, not each other.”

“It was worth a shot.”

“Sure it was, but I’d hate to see you waste a perfectly good afternoon off. I’m taken, but I’ve got a couple friends you might like to meet.”

“Already pawning me off, eh?” She picked up her menu and waved it at the waitress. “We haven’t even ordered yet.”

“I’m not pawning. That’s not what I’m trying to do.”