Authors: Emma Chase
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Contemporary, #Romantic Comedy, #Contemporary Women
her steak back to the kitchen if it’s cooked wrong, in a way that
doesn’t make the waiter want to spit in her food.
The bartender raises his brows and gives me a friendly look.
“You got a live one here, buddy.”
Dee swings back over the bar as I say, “So it seems.”
Once Delores is seated on her stool, I comment, “That was
impressive. So, I guess you’re big on the micromanaging, huh?”
She sips her drink. “I bartended through college—it made me
very particular about my poison.”
I take a drag off my beer and move into the small talk portion
of the evening. “Kate tells me you’re a chemist. What’s that like?”
“It’s like playing with a chemistry set every day and getting
paid to do it. I enjoy analyzing things—breaking them down to
their smallest components—and then fucking with them a little.
Seeing what other substances they play nice with . . . or don’t. The
don’t
part can get pretty exciting. Sort of makes me feel like I’m on a bomb squad.”
She stirs her olive in the glass. “And you’re a banker?”
I nod. “More or less.”
“That sounds very unexciting.”
My head tilts to the right as I consider her comment. “Depends
on your outlook. Some deals are a high-stakes gamble. Making
money is never boring.”
Dee turns on her stool, facing me.
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11/18/13 11:47 AM
Body language is important. Typically, a person’s movements
are subconscious, but understanding the feelings behind them
can either guide you to the promised land or get your ass locked
outside heaven’s door. If a girl folds her arms or leans back, that generally means you’re coming on too strong or she’s not interested in what you’re selling. Eye contact, open arms, full frontal attention, are all sure signs she’s feeling you—and is hungry for
more.
her eyes quickly trail my body, head to toe. “You don’t look
like a banker.”
I grin. “What does a banker look like?”
She scans the other patrons at the bar and in the lounge. her
gaze settles on a middle-aged balding dude in a cheap suit, hun-
kered down over a double scotch, whose expression implies he’s
lost his life savings in a stock market crash.
Dee points at him with her crimson-nailed pinkie. “him.”
“he looks like a mortician. Or a pedophile.”
She giggles and downs the rest of her martini.
Leaning close to her, I ask, “If not a banker, what do I look
like?”
She smiles slowly and scrapes the olive off the toothpick with
her teeth.
“You look like a Chippendale’s dancer.”
Fabulous answer
. I don’t really need to explain why, do I?
In a low, seductive voice I say, “I do have some great moves. If
banking doesn’t work out, Chippendale’s is Plan B.”
I motion to the bartender for another round. Delores closely
watches him work and he must not screw it up, because she smiles
when he places the drink before her.
Then, to me, she says, “So . . . your buddy, Drew—he’s been
giving my girl a hard time. Not a smart thing to do.”
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11/18/13 11:47 AM
“Drew has a weird relationship with competition. he thrives
on it, but it also pisses him off. And Kate hasn’t exactly been taking it easy on him. She brings her A-game to the office—I think she
can hold her own.”
“Well, you feel free to let him know he should watch his step.
I’m very protective of Katie—we Ohioans stick together.”
“But you’re in New York now. We’re ‘Every Man for his-Fuck-
ing-Self.’ It’s the second motto of Manhattan—right after ‘The
City That Never Sleeps.’ ”
her eyes shine as she laughs. And I think the first drink might
be hitting her hard.
“You’re cute,” she tells me.
My head leans back in exasperation. “Great.
Cute
. The adjective every man wants to hear.”
She laughs again, and I’m struck by how much I’m enjoying
myself. Dee Warren is a cool girl—unreserved, quick witted, funny.
Even if I don’t end up nailing her, the night won’t be a total loss.
That’s not to say I’m not dying to get her out of here and see
what’s—or, preferably, what’s not—under those tiny shorts. But
it’d be like rich icing on an already awesome cake. another round. Delores clos
Body language is important. Typically, a person’s movements
are subconscious, but understanding the feelings behind them
can either guide you to the promised land or get your ass locked
outside heaven’s door. If a girl folds her arms or leans back, that generally means you’re coming on too strong or she’s not interested in what you’re selling. Eye contact, open arms, full frontal attention, are all sure signs she’s feeling you—and is hungry for
more.
her eyes quickly trail my body, head to toe. “You don’t look
like a banker.”
I grin. “What does a banker look like?”
She scans the other patrons at the bar and in the lounge. her
gaze settles on a middle-aged balding dude in a cheap suit, hun-
kered down over a double scotch, whose expression implies he’s
lost his life savings in a stock market crash.
Dee points at him with her crimson-nailed pinkie. “him.”
“he looks like a mortician. Or a pedophile.”
She giggles and downs the rest of her martini.
Leaning close to her, I ask, “If not a banker, what do I look
like?”
She smiles slowly and scrapes the olive off the toothpick with
her teeth.
“You look like a Chippendale’s dancer.”
Fabulous answer
. I don’t really need to explain why, do I?
In a low, seductive voice I say, “I do have some great moves. If
banking doesn’t work out, Chippendale’s is Plan B.”
I motion to the bartender for another round. Delores closely
watches him work and he must not screw it up, because she smiles
when he places the drink before her.
Then, to me, she says, “So . . . your buddy, Drew—he’s been
giving my girl a hard time. Not a smart thing to do.”
Twisted_1P.indd 252
11/18/13 11:47 AM
“Drew has a weird relationship with competition. he thrives
on it, but it also pisses him off. And Kate hasn’t exactly been taking it easy on him. She brings her A-game to the office—I think she
can hold her own.”
“Well, you feel free to let him know he should watch his step.
I’m very protective of Katie—we Ohioans stick together.”
“But you’re in New York now. We’re ‘Every Man for his-Fuck-
ing-Self.’ It’s the second motto of Manhattan—right after ‘The
City That Never Sleeps.’ ”
her eyes shine as she laughs. And I think the first drink might
be hitting her hard.
“You’re cute,” she tells me.
My head leans back in exasperation. “Great.
Cute
. The adjective every man wants to hear.”
She laughs again, and I’m struck by how much I’m enjoying
myself. Dee Warren is a cool girl—unreserved, quick witted, funny.
Even if I don’t end up nailing her, the night won’t be a total loss.
That’s not to say I’m not dying to get her out of here and see
what’s—or, preferably, what’s not—under those tiny shorts. But
it’d be like rich icing on an already awesome cake. another round. Delores clos
Body language is important. Typically, a person’s movements
are subconscious, but understanding the feelings behind them
can either guide you to the promised land or get your ass locked
outside heaven’s door. If a girl folds her arms or leans back, that generally means you’re coming on too strong or she’s not interested in what you’re selling. Eye contact, open arms, full frontal attention, are all sure signs she’s feeling you—and is hungry for
more.
her eyes quickly trail my body, head to toe. “You don’t look
like a banker.”
I grin. “What does a banker look like?”