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Dirty Talk by S.L. Scott (22)

CHAPTER 22

~Danny~

 

 

 

HUD’S IS PACKED. Luke is sitting like the king of the castle in the corner. I sit down.

“How’d you score this table?”

“I dropped your name.”

“Naturally. Where are your girls?”

“Bathroom.”

“Ah. So who are they and what are we drinking?”

“Crystal and Yvette. Pharmaceutical reps in town for a convention.”

“How’d you meet them and why don’t I have a drink yet?”

“I’ve ordered already.”

The waitress arrives with a tray of martinis. I shoot Luke a look and shake my head in disgust. “Okay, 007, you’re obviously trying to impress these women. Hook me up with the details before they get back.”

Luke hands the waitress his card to keep the tab open. When we’re alone again, he leans over the edge of the table and says, “I need a date in a few weeks.”

“What’s in a few weeks? And since when did you have trouble finding dates?”

“I appreciate the support.”

“You’re welcome,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Get on with it.”

“There’s a wedding, a co-worker’s. The thing is, my co-worker is marrying this jackass that’s friends with Jane’s loser boyfriend.”

Sitting back, the picture is clear. “Ahhh, so you’ll see Jane there, but you don’t want to be dateless.”

“I don’t want to look like a loser.”

“You’re playing this all wrong, my friend.”

He drinks half his martini, then sets it down, nervously messing with the napkin. “Tell me, old wise one.”

“I don’t appreciate the old cracks. And I’m only three years older than you.”

“Fuck, Danny, get on with it. The girls will be back soon.”

“If you walk into that wedding with some girl you just met, you’re just proving once again that you aren’t the commitment type. You’re also sending a non-verbal message that you’re fine without her. When, let’s face it, you’re a mess, even after all this time without her.”

“Shit. So I should call off this whole operation?”

Nodding, I reply, “If you want Jane back. You need to end this. And what happened to Josie?”

“Janet. Eh, she wanted to get more serious than I did.”

Everything about him shouts commitment-phobe tonight. “You sure you want Jane back?”

“I’m sure. Life is easier with her.”

Now he’s got me leaning forward, feeling the need to dig into this deeper. “Love is not about life being easier. Love is life being better during the hard times.” He’s staring at me. “I’ve said too much, right?”

“Oh, Dan Man. You’re a goner.”

Two women approach from the side and I think my jaw drops open. Oh, no.

“Hi,” a redhead with big green eyes and a sprinkling of freckles across her nose. “You must be Danny?”

Standing up, I say, “I am. You are?”

“Crystal. And this is my friend Yvette.”

Fuck! The other woman is gorgeous too. When she speaks, I hear a French accent. “You’re French, Yvette?”

“Oui. I am.”

“I’ve spent a lot of time there.” I hold the chair out for her.

She sits and looks up at me. “I’d love to hear about it.”

Luke helps Crystal and returns to his seat. Over drinks that I wouldn’t drink for anyone other than these women, we talk about their jobs, France, and the convention they’re attending. Crystal googles me. Everyone gets a good laugh, I’m thinking at my expense until Yvette’s hand slides up my thigh under the table.

At another point in my life, in a time when Reese Carmichael had not re-entered my life—and I still wasn’t thinking about the text conversation I had earlier—I’d let Yvette’s hand run the course and find out what I’d have in store for her.

Instead, I cover her hand with mine, and trying not to embarrass her, I whisper, “You’re beautiful, but I’m seeing someone.”

Her hand pulls back like she’s been burned. Most women don’t care, I’ve discovered, when I say that. Yvette. She’s different. She’s humiliated, which is exactly opposite of how I wanted her to feel. “I’m sorry,” I add as if that will take away the rejection.

“I’m sorry. I was not acting myself, but thought I was in LA and I should… it’s stupid. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not stupid. And if this were a few weeks ago, I’d have a very different reaction. So please. No apologies.”

She nods, not able to make eye contact. I stand, needing to get fresh air. “Please excuse me. I’ll be back.”

Luke excuses himself as well. When he catches up to me, I remind him, “We’re not chicks, dude. We don’t do the bathroom in groups.”

“I need a cigarette.”

“You don’t smoke.”

We walk out the back door to the patio. He asks, “Why did I stop again?”

“Because it’s bad for your health.” I lean against a wood wall, wishing he hadn’t followed me out here. I’m irritated at him. And myself. “Dude, go back inside.”

“Why did you leave?”

“Why did you fucking set me up?”

“What? Why are you mad?”

“I’m mad because you know how I feel about Reese, then dangle one of the hottest women I’ve ever seen in front of me like a fucking carrot and expect me not to bite.”

The stress that resided in the lines across his forehead lighten and he laughs. “So that’s what this is about? You’re tempted? Let me ask you, Danny. What happened in Texas that has you so closed off to what seems like a sure thing—a beautiful and sexy sure thing to be exact?”

I nod, not willing to give away everything that easily.

Standing next to me, with his head against the wall, he doesn’t seem so sure of his sure thing either. “I can’t do it.”

“By it, I take it you mean you can’t do Crystal?”

“Yup.”

“You understand Jane is still fucking the prick, right?”

Ouch! Whose side are you on anyway?”

I push off the wall and face him. “Yours. I’m always on your fucking side, Luke, but this shit has gone on long enough. Go after her or don’t, but make up your fucking mind and don’t drag me into your attempt at getting revenge. I’m gonna tell you the truth here, brother. Jane’s keeping you at an arm’s length, not letting you closer, not cutting you loose. Just stuck in the middle. You’re going to have to make the hard decision. Figure out what the hell you want and then go after it.”

He stands up, looking me in the eyes. “I could say the same fucking thing to you, brother. The difference is Jane may be struggling to figure out what she wants, but I know what I want. That’s a hell of lot more than what you’re doing.”

“I had sex with Reese. Twice in Texas. So don’t come preaching to me that I’m not doing anything. But unlike your situation, our situation can cost her a job. Besides that, I’ve made myself clear on how I’m feeling for her, to her. And that’s all that matters. Have you told Jane how you feel?”

He looks away.

“I didn’t think so, so you have nothing on the line to lose. Take Crystal, Yvette, Janet, or whoever else you’re fucking around with while waiting for Jane, parade them in front of her and see how she reacts.” I hate fighting with him and I can tell he’s torn up over it too. “I say this as your friend. Those girls in there are hot, but they’re not Reese and they aren’t Jane.” I pat him on the shoulder. “Go home, my friend. Go home alone and figure this shit out. Give my goodbyes to the girls. I’m out of here.”

“C’mon, Danny. Don’t go.”

I wave over my shoulder as I push through the gate to the parking lot. My Jeep is parked at the far side of the lot, but I don’t hurry toward it. I need the air to think. My situation with Reese is fucked up because we fucked up a long time ago. He’s right. I don’t take my own advice much, but I’ve laid my heart on the line for her. Whether she picks it up remains to be seen.

 

* * *

 

I WALK INTO Illustrious to check in one last time before I head out of LA. My feet come to an abrupt halt when I see one of the last people I expect to see—my biggest competitor sitting across from my agent. Irritated, I detour to Jody’s desk. “He’s in a meeting with Sebastian Lassiter?”

Glancing over her shoulder, she nods. “Yeah, Mark’s been trying to sweeten the pot to get him to come work with Illustrious.”

“And here I thought the day was going pretty damn well.”

She spins in her chair to face me and lowers her voice. “I know you don’t like hi—”

“He’s a rich kid who couldn’t give a shit about modeling.”

“He sure is raking in the jobs for someone who doesn’t give a shit.”

With my hand on her shoulder, I warn, “Don’t be fooled by the good looks, they’re only surface deep, like his sincerity.”

“Good to know.”

I stare at him through the glass. He stares right back, the cocky fucker. When he grins, I’m left perplexed on why his day rate is so high. “Maybe I’m bias, but he caused a lot of problems for one of my good friends.”

Mess with Johnny Outlaw. He can take care of himself. Mess with Holli, and he’s got Johnny and me to deal with. He’s just lucky his ass got kicked when it did, or I would have been the one kicking it. And I would have broken more than his nose. The fucker. I cross my arms over my chest and face her. “Are you serious about him signing with Illustrious?”

“Yes. Mark found out that Sebastian recently left his agent. He switched up his whole team from his manager, agent, and PR. He claims he doesn’t like the direction of his reputation in the media.”

“Interesting.” I glance back once more. He’s still got that smarmy-ass smirk on his face. Fucker’s challenging me. “Keep me in the loop.”

“I will. Here’s your itinerary. Have a good trip and check in when you get back.”

“Take care, Jods.” With Mark in with Lassiter, I’ve lost my desire to meet with him. I can’t deal with Lassiter today, so it’s best I leave now before I get even more riled up.

When I get home, I put on shorts and my running shoes and hit the pavement hard. One mile in, I’m soaked with sweat and still just as frustrated about everything. By the fifth mile I find a bench and sit, trying to recover from pushing myself. The problem is I can’t outrun Reese in my head. I can block out almost everything, everything except for Reese. She’s ingrained in my brain and I want to see her and finally have that talk.

I pull out my phone.

No more texts.

It’s time to call her.

The phone rings once, twice, three times before it goes to voicemail.

“You’ve reached the voicemail of Reese Carmichael. Please leave your name and number after the beep. Thank you and have a great day.”

Beeeeeep.

“Reese, it’s me, Danny. If you get a chance, call me back. Thanks.” My mind is made up. I pack my phone away and head back home.

I’m going to be on the first flight to New York tomorrow morning.

Oh, who am I kidding? The first flight is never gonna happen. I like sleep too much, so maybe the third or fourth flight but definitely on a flight by one or two in the afternoon. At the latest, by three.