He must not have had any clients because he opened up immediately. “Kat. This is a surprise.”
The familiar way his smile lit his face and his blue eyes sparkled eased the tightness in my chest a little.
“Are you busy?” I asked, knowing the answer.
“ ’Course not.” He pulled me in and hugged me. Luc gave the best hugs. “Let me save the changes I’m making to my schedule and then I’m yours.”
Right. He’d never be mine. Yes, I was attractive (and quite witty), but I’d never deluded myself to think I was his type—leggy and blond.
Still, Luc is one of those really nice guys who also happens to be drop-dead gorgeous. He has thick, wavy Matthew McConaughey hair and a lean, muscled body from swimming and windsurfing. Combined with his intellect, humor, and talent for massages, he was a woman’s dream date. One day I wanted a man just like him.
I followed him to the area he had sectioned off for an office. He slouched back down in his space-age ergo chair. I paced back and forth behind him while he poked at the keyboard. I was just about to shove him aside and do it myself when he finally turned around. “Okay. Tell me what’s wrong.”
That’s the great thing about Luc. He knows me. And he didn’t hold it against me that I hadn’t had free time to hang out with him the past few months.
All right—fine. I admit it’d been more than a few months. If I wanted the VP salary, I had to prove that I could work like one. Which meant long hours and no time for socializing.
I swallowed my guilt at being such a poor, undeserving friend and forged ahead. “I’m desperate. I need your help. I want to employ your services.”
“What? You need a massage?”
“No, I need a man to stud.”
“What?” He jumped out of his chair so quickly it toppled over. I found the spinning wheels oddly mesmerizing. He paid no attention to it, his eyes riveted on me.
Did I mention that he could really focus when he wanted to?
“I need someone to father a baby.” I realized how this sounded when his eyes bugged out. “Not for me, you idiot. For Lydia—my boss.”
He relaxed, his shoulders slumped in his typical slacker pose. “That’s a relief.”
I frowned. “What does that mean?”
He wrapped an arm around my neck and gave me a noogie. “Just that I don’t think I’m ready for you to get settled, squirt.”
I hate it when he calls me that. Usually, I remind him that, at five foot four, by medieval standards I was of Amazonian proportions, but today I shut up. I needed his help—bad. There was no way I could accomplish this without him, and I wasn’t about to antagonize my only hope. “So are you going to help me or not?”
He righted his chair and plopped onto it, leaning back until the front wheels were six inches off the ground. I bit my lip to keep from telling him he was going to fall backward and crack his head open. (Accidental falls in the home kill one person every five hours.)
He studied me, his chin tipped to one side. He took my right hand and gently rubbed it, starting at the base of my palm and working his way out to my fingertips.
I tried not to melt but it was awfully hard. Tingles shot up my arm and down my spine, pooling in a pit right at the center of me.
But I was here on business, so I pushed the warm Luc feeling aside and pulled my hand from his. “Well?”
“This is important to you?”
“If I do this, I get my promotion.”
He nodded. “And this promotion is what you really want?”
“It means more money, which means I’d be that much closer to being able to buy a home.” He knew buying a home is all I’ve ever wanted.
“With the way you pinch and save, I’d think you’d have enough to put down on a place. Maybe not in the City, given the cost of housing, but definitely in the East Bay.”
“Well ...” I gave a little laugh and cleared my throat.
Luc’s eyes narrowed. “Kat, your father’s not still hitting you up for money, is he?”
Oh no. I hated when this came up. I knew he was just being protective of me, but I wished he understood that I couldn’t
not
help my dad. But given Luc’s relationship with his father, his reaction was to be expected. “The issue here is my promotion.”
Read: this subject is not up for debate.
He stared at me for what seemed like forever. “Isn’t finding your boss a sperm donor beyond the call of duty? You already deserve the promotion, if you ask me.”
“It’s what she wants me to do.” I forced a smile. “It’s the ultimate research project. If I do this, I’m worthy.”
He scowled. “You’re worthy anyway.”
Luc was so sweet.
“And why can’t she do what normal people do and go to a sperm bank?”
“She doesn’t want to. She’s worried about quality control, and I don’t blame her.”
Actually, I didn’t really understand what the big deal was about a sperm bank either. Except that there was a possibility that her child could have dozens of other brothers and sisters. Or that her child’s father could be a psycho.
I shook my head. None of that mattered. “I have three weeks to find her a viable candidate or I’m fired.”
“What?” Luc’s scowl deepened. “She can’t do that. Want me to talk to her?”
I sighed. “No, I want you to help me find a sperm donor. You know how I am around people I don’t know.”
He grinned. “You mean inept?”
“I just get a little tongue-tied.”
“You don’t get tongue-tied. You spew. Remember the time I took you to my friend’s Christmas party and you pointed out to his wife that her shoes were made from an animal on the endangered species list?”
“Well, they were.”
“And the time we went to that concert in Golden Gate Park—”
I groaned.
“—and that guy next to us tried picking you up, but you kept quoting facts on how our generation was going to experience hearing loss at an alarming rate due to the loud music we listen to.”
“It’s true.” Of the 28 million Americans who have hearing loss, one-third can attribute it to noise.
“And then—”
“Stop.” I held up my hand. “I think we’ve established that I have no social skills.”
He tugged on one of my runaway curls. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
I batted his hand away and tucked my hair back into its bun.
“You should wear your hair down more. It’s beautiful.”
I snorted. “It’s frizzy and out of control.”
Luc crossed his arms and studied me. “It’s not frizzy. And is being in control that important?”
I shrugged. “It is if it’ll get me my house.”
He didn’t say anything but I could read his thoughts. I didn’t doubt that he understood how important my dream was to me. But sometimes I wondered if he could
really
appreciate what it meant. I mean, he grew up in a mansion—the same home with the same staff all his life. My father and I moved every few months, always to a tiny apartment that was worse than the one before it. I just wanted a place that was
mine
. A home instead of a hovel, one that I’d never have to leave.
“Okay.” He nodded.
“Okay what?”
“Okay, I’ll help you.”
“Thank God.” I heaved a sigh of relief. Luc was full of charisma. Strangers flocked to talk to him all the time—men as well as women. With him helping, I was sure to compile my list in no time.
He leaned back in his chair again. “So what’s the plan, squirt?”
I ignored the “squirt” only because he’d just agreed to help me. “We need to meet some men. I have a list of criteria here. It’s organized by order of importance.” I pulled out my handheld, brought up the characteristics Lydia wanted in her donor, and handed it to him.
He read it out loud. “ ‘Blue eyes (any shade), dimples, successful in business, busy work schedule, good parentage, intelligent, and attractive, with a goatee.’ ” He stared at me incredulously. “A goatee? Why does she want a goatee?”
I shrugged. “Beats me.”
“You don’t find that odd?”
I found this whole endeavor odd, but if it meant me getting my promotion I wasn’t going to question it. “I’m sure Lydia has her reasons.”
Luc shook his head in disbelief. “No wonder she can’t find her own husband.”
“She doesn’t want a husband. She just wants a sperm donor.”
“Whatever. So what’s the plan?”
“I was hoping you’d be able to help me with that.” I smiled. I hoped I looked innocently appealing and not like I was baring my teeth at him. “I need a list of potential candidates by next Friday morning.”
“Eight days, huh?” He shook his head and grabbed my hand—the left one this time—and massaged it as thoroughly as my right one. I tried to pull away but he held fast.
Luc touches. All the time. He always has. It’s how he communicates.
I’m uncomfortable with the touchy-feely stuff. You’d think I’d be used to it by now—we
had
been friends for fifteen years, after all. I guess it’s because I didn’t grow up with it (at least not since I was six, before my mom died). When Luc touches me so casually I’m torn between needing to put space between us and wanting to curl into him and let him pet me all over.
I flushed beet red. That was
not
something I needed to think about.
I tugged my hand. “Well?”
“I’m thinking.” His fingers pressed a particularly sensitive spot.
I clamped my lips on the moan that rose in my throat.
Space—need to get free.
I jerked my hand hard. Luc chose that moment to release it and I flew back into his desk.
He frowned at me. “What’s the problem?”
“Nothing.” No way was I telling my best friend he was making my nerves tingle in places I didn’t realize I had nerves.
He rolled his eyes. “You’re weird sometimes, Kat. Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. You meet me at a club of my choosing tomorrow night and I’ll show you how to meet people.”
“Are you going to introduce me to your friends?”
“Hell no.” He shook his head vigorously. “Leave my friends out of this. I like that they talk to me.”
“Okay.” I shrugged. I’d take whatever he’d give me.
Luc leaned back in his chair. “What do I get for helping you?”
I frowned. “What do you want?”
A wicked gleam lit his eyes. “A boon.”
“A boon?” I scowled. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means I’ll help you make your list and you’ll give me whatever I ask for.”
His satisfied smile made me nervous. “You aren’t going to want my firstborn or anything, are you?”
“And if I did?”
The way he looked at me made me understand how Little Red Riding Hood felt in the wolf’s presence. “That’s not exactly reassuring.”
“Would I ever hurt you?”
“No.” I didn’t have to think about that.
“Then what’s to worry?”
He had me there. I hated when Luc outmaneuvered me. “Fine.”
He grinned. “Shake on it.”
I reluctantly took his hand. Somehow, I knew this was going to come back and bite me in the ass.
Chapter Three
By Friday night, I was eager to get cracking. I felt on the verge. I could almost smell the fresh paint of my new home. It was time.
Instead of dawdling at work (like I did most nights), I rushed to my apartment to change. I unlocked the security gate at the steps of my building, making sure it closed behind me before unlocking the next series of locks that let me into the lobby.
My apartment was in the heart of the Mission District. Personally, I don’t think the neighborhood is
that
bad. Luc says it isn’t—not if you want to score some crystal meth.
Okay, I’ve got to agree that it’s not the optimal place to live, but my rent is cheap, which allows me to save more. And the high-security prison–like atmosphere of the building I live in deters any kind of crime.
I flew up three flights of stairs and changed into casual clothes, just like Luc suggested, before running right back out. I’d just finished locking both deadbolts when the door to my left opened up and my neighbor peeked her head out.
“Hey, Kath!”
I gritted my teeth. “Hello, Rainbow.”
She beamed at me, like I’d given her the greatest gift. “How’re things going?”
“Fine. Thank you.”
“Cool.” Rainbow smiled wide. I watched in morbid fascination as the piercings (yes, plural) in her bottom lip caught the light and flashed.
I waited for Rainbow to say something else, but she just stood there, grinning. Since I was afraid my face would freeze in the grim smile I’d pasted on, I dropped my keys into my purse and edged away. “Well, I guess I’ll just—”
“Want to come over?” Rainbow asked hurriedly.
“Um—”
“I got a great bottle of wine at Trader Joe’s—”
“I don’t—”
“—and I thought we could chat and get to know each other a little. ’Cause we’re neighbors and all.”
She looked like an eager puppy, with her wide, imploring eyes. For a second—maybe a split second—I was tempted to give in and accept her invitation. After all, she’d been asking me since she moved in almost a year ago.
But then I snapped out of it. “Sorry, Rainbow. I already have plans for this evening.”
Her grin collapsed. “Oh. Okay. I understand.”
“Maybe another time.” I resisted feeling guilty.
“Right.” Her smile conveyed her disbelief. Her shoulders slumped and she scuffled into her apartment.
“Wait.” I don’t know what came over me. I couldn’t stop the words from escaping my mouth. “How about Sunday?”
The joy that leaped into her eyes was painful to behold. “That’s so cool! I can’t wait. Come over about seven, okay? I’ll make some hors d’oeuvres to go with the wine.”
Ugh. Well, how bad could her hors d’oeuvres be? It couldn’t be any worse than my usual dinner of Top Ramen and tuna fish, right? “Sure. See you at seven.”
Rainbow beamed at me and disappeared into her apartment. As I closed my door, I swear I heard a jubilant “Yes!”
Oh boy. What had I gotten myself into?
The Muni bus arrived as I got to the stop—a fluke, trust me. (The City’s public transportation left much to be desired.) Because I wasn’t in a hurry, having allowed plenty of time to get to the bar, the trip took a fraction of what it normally would. Which meant I arrived too early.
I bit my lip. Did I wait outside or go in? If I stayed outside, people walking by might confuse me for one of the strippers from the clubs that lined the street. And it wasn’t safe. Thirty-seven percent of all attacks against women occurred between 6:00 P.M. and midnight.
I looked at my watch. Right. Inside.
The bar was located up an alley off Broadway near Columbus. The doorman checked my ID and waved me in. I stepped through a velvet curtain and into the dimly lit bar.
At least it wasn’t as hell-like as the one I went to Wednesday night. It was pretty crowded, but it didn’t have the frenetic, meat-market quality the other one did.
I relaxed. I could wait here, no problem. I walked up to the bar, set my bag on the floor, and took a seat.
The bartender came up to me right away. She smiled. “Hey there. What can I get you?”
“A Shirley Temple, please.”
Her brow wrinkled but she got my drink without a comment. She set it on the bar top and leaned over. “I’ve never seen you here before.”
“There are over five hundred bars in a thirty-mile radius of the City. It’d take a person almost two years to go to all of them if you went to a new one each day.”
“Uh—” She looked confused.
I shrugged. Math wasn’t everyone’s forte.
I felt a hand on my back and was about to elbow the hell out of my assailant when I heard his voice.
“Been waiting long?” Luc slid onto the stool next to me and leaned over to peck me on the cheek. He stopped in midmotion and frowned at me. “I thought I told you to dress casual.”
“I did.” I looked down at myself. I’d changed out of my suit and into a pair of wool slacks and a long-sleeved green silk shirt. And a wool jacket, of course—it was cold out.
Luc shook his head. “That’s casual.” He pointed at the bartender. “You look like you stepped out of
Forbes
magazine.”
I glanced at the bartender. She wore a white tank top, showing off her toned arms and prominent nipples. I shook my head. No way was I letting people stare at my nipples. “I’m casual enough, thanks.”
“No, you aren’t.” He unbuttoned the two top buttons of my shirt and reached around to pull the pins out of my hair.
“Hey!” I slapped his hands away. “Stop undressing me.”
“You need to loosen up, Kat.”
“I do not.”
“At least the color is great on you.” He ran a finger under the wire rim of my glasses. “It makes your eyes look like big emeralds.”
“Does not.” My eyes are murky green at best. I pushed his hand away.
The bartender watched us with pouty interest. She tipped her head toward me but looked at Luc. “Your girlfriend, huh?”
Luc grinned. “Sorry.”
“Damn.”
I looked back and forth between them. What were they talking about?
“Do you have Sierra Nevada on tap?”
The bartender nodded. “Sure thing.”
She got busy filling Luc’s order, so I leaned closer to him and whispered, “What was that about?”
He chuckled. “You made a conquest.”
“Huh?”
“She wanted to ask you out.”
I wrinkled my nose and stared at the woman. “Really? Why?”
He shook his head. “You’re really dense for being so smart.”
Luc paid her after she set his beer in front of him. I looked down, conscious of her eyes on me. It made me uncomfortable. It wasn’t a lesbian thing—anyone paying attention to me made me feel anxious.
I gripped Luc’s hand. “Did you know the Aztecs had a god who was the patron of homosexuals?”
He rubbed my knuckles. “There’s nothing to feel uncomfortable about. People notice you’re an attractive woman even though you camouflage yourself.” He sipped his beer and looked out into the crowd. “Okay, where do we start?”
I surveyed the club. Small groups of people gathered around tables, some laughing and having fun, some in heated conversations.
I felt a pang, wishing I had a group of friends to hang out and have fun with. I had Luc, though, and that was great. Only we hardly ever hung out anymore because I was always working.
I shook my head. Focus. I had a mission to get underway. “How are we going to do this?”
Luc glanced at me. “I’ll put you in front of people. You say hi, smile, and find out if they suit your qualifications.”
“But what do I say?” My palms were already starting to get clammy. “Ask them if they’d be willing to be sperm donors?”
Luc rubbed his chin. “Going up to guys and asking them how they’d feel about giving up some spunk? Direct. Could work.” He nodded. “How about the guys shooting pool?”
I pushed my glasses up and looked over. There were four guys around the pool table. Three women too, but they didn’t count. “I can’t tell. They have to have blue eyes.”
“Well, let’s go over and check them out.” He stood and helped me off my stool. I hefted my purse, picked up my drink, and headed toward the pool table.
He slipped his arm around my waist. “I love it when your heels clack with purpose.”
I ignored him and kept walking. Sometimes I wished he’d take things more seriously. This was important—all the dreams I’ve ever had rode on successfully completing this mission.
Next thing I knew, I stood next to the pool table. The women stared at me. One snickered. I froze, unsure of what to do next.
I turned to Luc, who was still behind me. “Did you know billiards is one of the safest sports in the world?”
He rolled his eyes. Pulling me closer, he walked up to one of the men holding a cue stick. “Hey. How’s it going?”
The man nodded and they did some guy handshake thing.
I frowned. Did Luc know him?
“Can we join you guys?” I heard Luc ask.
I started to protest that I didn’t know how to shoot pool but the man’s blue eyes distracted me. I set my drink down and reached into my purse for my handheld.
“Sure. We can work you into the rotation.” He smiled.
Oh! Blue eyes
and
dimples. A candidate. I quickly turned on my handheld and keyed in my password. I had to jot this down. He didn’t have a goatee, but maybe he could grow one really quickly.
My handheld was jerked out of my palm in midstroke. “Hey! What—”
“No.” Luc shut it off and dropped it back in my purse. “Tonight you’re going to interact with humans instead of machines.”
“Fine.” I knew he thought I couldn’t do it but I’d show him.
My candidate gaped at us like we were insane.
Luc elbowed me.
That was my cue, I guess. I smiled stiffly and said, “Did you know pool evolved from croquet? It was played on lawn. The green felt on the table represents the grass.”
The guy nodded, his eyebrows raised. “Right.”
Luc sighed like he was deeply put upon. I glared at him. What? What did he want me to do? That was friendly. I’d smiled. Kind of.
A shout of exaltation drew our attention. A trendy woman did a victory lap around the table while another dimpled man grinned.
So many dimples, so little time. My fingers itched to get a hold of my handheld.
The two losers groaned comically, loudly protesting having to buy the next round of drinks. Luc wandered over to them and struck up a conversation. Just like that.
I shook my head. I just didn’t get it. He could be thrown in a pit of vipers and he’d end up charming them all with a minimum of effort.
I became aware of the candidate standing next to me. He stared at me like he wasn’t sure I’d understand him if he spoke, as if I were from a different planet.
I sighed. “I do speak English, you know.”
“Huh?” His forehead crinkled up.
Well, gee—if that statement was too complex for him I doubted he’d be a good choice for Lydia. I scratched him off my mental list.
“I speak English,” I repeated slowly, enunciating each word so he’d be sure to understand.
He looked even more confused. I sighed and thought about trying sign language when Luc grabbed my elbow. “Kat, there’s someone over here you should meet.”
I wiggled my fingers at the ex-candidate and let Luc drag me away.
“What are you doing?” Luc’s voice was a low hiss in my ear.
“I’m being conversational.”
He muttered something under his breath. It sounded suspiciously like “if you’re a hermit” but I wasn’t sure I heard correctly.
“Everyone, this is my friend Katherine.” Luc ran through a half dozen names before I could blink.
They seemed to be waiting for something from me. The three women stared at me in a way that made me feel inadequate. The guys seemed more casual, though.
“Hi.” I glanced at Luc. See—I could be friendly.
“Luc, do you want to play on my team?”
I frowned at the blonde who spoke. Her voice was falsely honeyed, and when she spoke she jiggled her wares. I had the distinct impression she was inviting Luc to a whole lot more than a game of pool. And I didn’t like it one bit.
“I’d love to.” Luc smiled at her.
Poor Luc. He was probably just being really nice. That was Luc for you—always the good guy.
He gave me a look and went over to pick a stick from the rack on the wall. The blonde followed him, jiggling all the way.