Can't Touch This (6 page)

Rory reaches into his pocket and counts out three tickets.  “Here you go.  EG’s a client of mine.  Hope you show up.”

“Sounds like fun.”

Excellent.  The adventure has begun.  Rory Ellery will see the charms of Vanessa Virtue and tell her all of his trade secrets.  God that even sounds ludicrous in my own head.  It’s an excellent plan, though.  Besides, what harm is there in a little tradeshow flirting?  Nothing in The Compass handbook about that.  I mean, look at Kyle over there.

Rory starts to head off, but then stops and turns toward me.

“And Vanessa...” he trails off.

“Yes?”

“Save a dance for me.”

*****

L
ater, as we’re
sitting at the bar of the Hard Rock Café, I keep looking for the “work” part of what we’re doing here in Atlantic City.  Ted’s busy flirting with our waitress and Kyle chomps away at a cheeseburger (obviously didn’t get enough of the free food earlier while talking to the blonde woman.)  He’s been quiet and reserved so far, making voice notes on his Android.  I think he’s concentrating on meeting the clients and potential customers.

Ted, on the other hand, is puffing away on one cigarette after the next.  He nearly falls off his barstool in an attempt to put his arm around me.  I think he needs to brush up on the company handbook.  I’m not remotely interested in him.

Now, Rory Ellery... he’s a different story.

Thoughts of our brief encounter are in full view and I’m itching to see him again.  His parting words resonate in my head and slight giddiness fills my senses at the thought of someone so intriguing being interested in me.  Mischievously, I want to explore this more as there’s no harm in a little fraternization with the competition.

When I stave Ted off with my hands pressed flat to his chest, he says, “Don’t worry, ‘Nessa.  What hasssppens on the road stays on the road.”

Kyle slides over to gently move Ted away.  “Come on, man.  You’ve had a lot to drink.”

I thank Kyle with my eyes and he smiles back.

Ted grabs for the empty pack of cigarettes.  “I’m fine.”

“Why don’t we check out the EG swing party?” I suggest, waving the complimentary passes in the air.

Kyle’s face lights up.  “Where’d you get those?  Jiles wants me to talk to their president.  This is the perfect opportunity.”

I shrug noncommittally and just say, “Some guy gave them to me.”

Score one for me!  I can distract Rory while Kyle makes the move on his client.  DigitalDirection will rule the day.  Okay, maybe I’ve had too much wine.  I’m getting into the corporate competitiveness way too much.  But then, that’s why I’m here.

We stumble out into the warm summer night; Ted and Kyle flank me.  We walk past families pushing their kids in strollers and guys in wetsuits heading out for some night surfing.  The aromatic scents of coffee beans, cotton candy, and pizza fill the air as we walk the three blocks, past Merv Griffin’s Resorts hotel, to the club where the party is taking place.

Before we walk in, I tug on Kyle’s sleeve.  Since he’s totally Mr. Business, perhaps I can help out.  “Hey, Kyle.  You want a moment with the president of EG?”

Interest sparks his striking eyes.  “Absolutely.”

“Why don’t I run interference with the SalesTracker people?  I already met them at the cocktail party.”

“That would be excellent.”  He fist-bumps me like we’re on the basketball court.  Then Ted looks at us and puts his hand up in the air.  Kyle laughs and smacks his hand, too.  “Let’s go.”

As soon as we walk in, my eyes lock with Rory’s and he gives me the thumbs up.  My pulse races and I dare my feet not to do the same, chiding myself to not be over anxious.  When I reach the bar where he stands, Rory hands me a lowball full of sparkling tawny liquid.

“I’ve been watching the door and waiting for you,” he says.

Smooth, very smooth.  “You didn’t have to buy me a drink,” I yell over the music.

“I didn’t.  It’s an open bar.”  He dazzles me with his smile and I notice he has a small brown mole about two inches under his left eye.  I don’t know if that’s necessarily considered to be a beauty mark, but it is to me.

Behind me, Ted slips up to the bar between two older women and orders a drink.  Kyle is back in the corner with a smartly dressed older man that I surmise is the president of EG.  Kyle certainly didn’t waste any time.

I take a huge sip of the drink Rory handed me, thinking it’s Ginger Ale.  The liquid chars my throat and I start coughing and hacking.  Rory pats me on the back and laughs as the strobe lights reflect in his blue eyes.

“First Kamikaze you’ve ever had?”

“I thought it was something softer,” I say, swallowing hard.  “I’ve mostly been drinking wine all evening.”  I’m not counting the G&T I carried around for half an hour.

Rory leans in close to my ear.  “You’re such a lady.”

I don’t know how to react, so I glance back toward Kyle who’s shaking hands with the very moneyed-looking man and swapping business cards with him.

“Do you know the big cheese over there?” Rory asked, swigging back his beer.

I don’t want to point out Kyle as a co-worker of mine, so I focus instead on the older gentleman he’s talking to.  “The man looks rich.”

“Yeah, he’s got more money than God.  And he’s a royal pain in the ass.”

I gaze into Rory’s eyes, giving him all my attention as he serves me with a cocky smile.  “Who is he?”

Rory chuckles.  “This is his party.”

“Oh,” is all I can get out when his arm slides onto the back of my chair.  Earlier, I’d pegged him as a sleazy salesman, but I was totally wrong about him.  Sure, he pours on the charm when clients are around—as most successful sales people do—however, it seems that I’m the center of Rory’s attention right now.  And I like it.  I focus on his mouth for what seems like six years.  Full, firm lips that curl up on the edge when he smiles as if I’m the only woman in the world right now.  When he leans in to order more drinks, I can’t help but appreciate his long legs in tan Dockers.  His teal golf shirt stretches over his broad chest; the short sleeves demo his tanned arms.  He turns back to me, ignoring the party around us and leaning in to whisper, “You’re the hottest-looking woman at this lousy event.”

My cheeks flare from the compliment as other parts of my body begin to react, as well.  Rory’s lit a fire deep within me that both alarms and invigorates me.  To break the tension in our mutual gazes, I turn to look about the room.

Kyle’s eyes meet mine and suddenly my breath hitches.  I feel like I’m being unfaithful to him.  No, not him.  Unfaithful to my company.  It’s part of the plan, I remind myself.  I’m the distraction Kyle needs in order to get in good with Rory’s customers.

My co-worker smiles, nods, and returns to his conversation.  It’s all about business.

Not with Rory, though.  He’s here to have a good time and apparently, I’m part of his plans.  He pulls me to the dance floor where a Big Bad Voodoo Daddy tune blasts from the DJ’s booth.  The more I sip the Kamikaze the smoother it seems to go down.  Perhaps I’m anesthetized to the effects of the pungent liquor.  I’m astounded by the amount of alcohol I’ve consumed throughout the course of the day.  (Good thing I built up a tolerance at all those college frat parties.)

Rory’s co-worker, Gene, the Italian Stallion, asks me to dance.  As a slow song starts, Gene gathers me to him.  I push away, allowing room for the Holy Ghost.

“You know who you remind me of?” Gene asks.

“Vanessa Virtue from DigitalDirection,” I tart off.

“No, you remind me of my first wife.”

“What wife are you on now?”

He holds up three fingers and laughs.  I don’t care for him to think I’m interested in applying for the job of number four.

When the song ends, Rory has a fresh drink for me.  I merely hold on to it with no intention of drinking any.  My surroundings are starting to appear very aquarium-ish as it is.

Ted appears on my left.  “Have you seen my cigarettes?”

“Not my responsibility,” I say cheekily.

Ted sneers in our competition’s direction.  Then, he tugs my arm and excuses us for a minute.  “What are you doing with that jerk, Vanessa?” he asks sharply.

“Nothing.  Just hanging out,” I say in my defense.

“He’s a piece of shit.  Watch yourself, kid.”

Irritation boils within me.  It’s degrading to be called “kid.”

“I can take care of myself, Ted.  Thanks, though.”  We have to work together, no use getting into a pissing contest with a skunk.  A drunk one at that.

Glancing around, he changes the subject.  “I really need a cigarette.  Help me out.”  He looks around the room and spots a man at the bar, puffing away.  “There, see him?”

“Yeah... so?”

“Go bum one off him for me.”

Shaking my head, I say, “No way, Ted.  I don’t even smoke.”  I want to dance.  With Rory.  Sure, I’d set out to pump him for information.  I just never expected to be so charmed by him.

“Puh-leeeeze, Vanessa!”  Ted circles my wrist with his hand.

“Why don’t you go ask him for one?”  This is ridiculous.

“Men love to help cute chicks.  He’ll give you one.  Come on!”

I slip away from his Kung Fu grip and make my way to the brass and oak bar, maneuvering between the smoking man and the woman.  “May I bum a cigarette?”

The man holds up empty hands, so the woman fishes a cancer stick out of her handbag.  It’s one of those “female” cigarettes—slender and long.  Ted is going to kill me, but he asked for it.  “Thanks.”

“Here.  Take this nasty thing.”  I shove the feminine product at Ted.  “Don’t ever ask me to do that again.  And don’t call me ‘kid’ either, okay?”

“This is a Capri!  I can’t smoke a Capri in public.  I’ll look gay.”  He glances around as if he’s done something wrong.

“Sorry.  It was all they had.  It’s that or nothing, Ted.”

“Come on, Vanessa.  Let’s dance,” Rory interrupts.  He pulls me by the hand and secures me against him.  Even though I’m a lot shorter, I fit quite snugly.  This feels good.  Too good.  Better than anything the dating sites set up for me in Boston.  I shouldn’t be enjoying myself this much.  I’m only supposed to be hanging with Rory to get info.  Not for him to make my toes curl inside my shoes.

As we turn on the dance floor, I look back to see Ted smoking the ridiculously long cigarette like a teenager not wanting to be caught by his parents, hiding it behind his back between drags.

I couldn’t have planned that any better.

A
fter dancing for
two hours, we all stumble back to the Taj Mahal where the guys want to hit the casino floor.  I have enough financial problems with my credit card debt and student loan payments without throwing away good money on gambling, so I decide to stand back and watch.

“I owe you one, Vanessa,” Kyle says in a whisper as we round the corner into the casino.  I catch a trace of his spicy cologne.  The scent, mixed with his soft words against my neck, makes me tingle all over.  Or maybe it’s the alcohol in me.

“For what?”

“For distracting Ellery.”  He continues, “I had a great talk with EG’s president.  They’re interested in a software change and are willing to look at The Director.”  The Director is our CRM software package.  Kyle squeezes my arm.  “Keep up the good work.”

I feel bad that Rory might lose a customer because of me, but that’s how business works.  Kyle seems pleased, so maybe I’ve scored brownie points with him... and the company.

Rory waves at me from the craps table and I swallow hard, secretly wishing Kyle were paying this much attention to me.  I seriously need to stop thinking about him in sexual terms.  But I’m not sure flirting with the competition is any better, although there’s nothing in Section seven about that.

Rory scores big on the dice.  Red and black Twenty-five dollar chips pile up in front of him and he winks at me.  I’m tipsy from all the wine and cocktails and I lean over too far on the table.  The dealer pokes me back with the dice retrieving stick.

“Back off the table, lady.”

How completely humiliating.  Rory seizes the opportunity to wrap his arm around my waist, steadying me.  I check my watch and can’t believe it’s after two in the morning.  I look toward the blackjack table.  Ted and Kyle are gone.  Have they blown me off?

I should go to bed.  My work is done here for now.  The show starts in a few hours and I’m going to look like crap if I don’t get some sleep.  Besides, it doesn’t appear that I’m going to get any company scoop from Rory tonight despite the questions I’ve been asking here and there.  Ironically, he’s been more focused on entertaining me.  Maybe I can get him to give me a demo of SalesTracker tomorrow so I can see what they’re up to.

He holds the dice out in front of me and his eyes crinkle into the brightest of smiles.  “Be my good luck charm, Vanessa.”

“What do you mean?”

“Blow on them.”

Oh, I’ve seen this on television before.  But usually it’s some busty blonde at the end of the table that brings the gambler good luck.  I purse my lips and blow a steady stream over the red and white dice.  Rory’s eyes focus on my lips and I swear it seems like he wants to kiss me.  My insides tighten and I step back as he jiggles his fist and then hurls the dice.

“Lucky Seven.  You’re a winner!”

Rory sweeps me off my feet and swings me around.  I guess this means he won.  Look at me being a good luck charm.  He sets me back to the ground, our bodies sliding together.  The mellifluous sensation cascades throughout my body and I’m thinking Rory might be a heck of a lot more fun than just a source of information.

But it’s late; I’m inebriated and need to get to bed.  Alone.  Rory’s gorgeous and a nice guy, but I don’t want the SalesTracker people to think I’m an easy lay.

“I, umm, guess I’ll head up to bed now.”

“Yeah, it is kind of late.  Let me cash in and I’ll walk you to your room.”

I follow him to the cage where he collects his payoff.  Not bad for a couple of hours of shooting dice.

Standing in front of the elevator, I notice our reflection.  We look pretty good together if I do say so myself.  I see him lean down toward me.  “Wanna take me to my room?” he whispers.