Do you see that girl about to walk into the hotel restaurant wearing Mila’s dress that doesn’t look as flattering on her as it did on Mila and shoes that are a size too small?
That’s me. In case you’re wondering, I’m nervous to the point where I’m certain my stomach is trying to turn itself inside out. And succeeding. But hey, at least I no longer smell like a mocha threw up on me.
Once inside, I nearly drop to my knees. Not only is Willa sitting in a back-corner booth tucked away from everyone else, but guess who’s sitting next to her?
His name rhymes with maid.
Do you see me trying to put one foot in front of the other? It’s taking a good amount of effort, isn’t it? It’s something similar to watching a teenager in her mother’s heels for the first time. Believe it or not, I don’t wear heels all that often.
Not only do my toes feel like they’re being squeezed into a hot dog press, but Shade Sawyer is sitting fifteen feet from me wearing a black T-shirt, his usual sunglasses, and leather pants. Yes, fucking leather pants. Dude has more style than most women I know. Including myself.
Don’t run up and lick him. If you want the job, you have to remain dignified and professional. But do I know how to do that?
Have you ever had that feeling in your chest your heart’s going to explode, and you think to yourself, well, this is the end, isn’t it? Been nice knowing you because I’m pretty sure I’m going to pass out. I’m currently experiencing said symptoms.
Listen, do me a favor. If I do pass out, tell Shade I forgive him for the pull-out condom fiasco as long as he comes to my funeral and lets me have his sunglasses in my coffin. But only on the conditions listed above.
One shaky step at a time, I approach their table, my wild mess of blond curls in my face. Reaching up, I calmly pick away a few loose strands clinging to my lips like they’ve been glued there. Lip gloss and I don’t mix.
Once at the table, Willa smiles at me.
Shade doesn’t even look up. Instead, his focus is on his cell phone, the window, and the glass of amber-colored liquor in front of him. So not so different from the last time I saw him.
Awesome. I want to rip his sunglasses off his face and scream at him, “Why’d you pull out, dick?”
But I don’t because the idea of being his assistant is far more rewarding than him making eye contact. I also have to give him a break. He’s struggling, and I get that. I’ve been there. Maybe if I were his assistant, I could pull him out of his slump by you know, sexual favors?
Hey, it’s an idea. Maybe not a good one, but an idea. And then I’m kind of disappointed in myself because the last thing I want Shade to assume is that I’d take the job just to have sex with him on a regular basis.
Leaning forward, Willa reaches out to shake my hand. “Good evening, Scarlet. Thanks so much for meeting with us on such short notice.” And then she elbows Shade next to her in the ribs. “Say hello.”
With a heavy sigh, Shade rolls his head my direction like a defiant teenager and groans before saying, “Hello.” And then nothing. No, how are you? No, hey, I fucked you once, didn’t I?
What if he doesn’t remember me? Look at him. He doesn’t.
Although, he did warn me about that. Remember?
He said, and I quote, “I’m fucked up. You know I won’t remember this.” Or something along those lines.
So. . . he warned me. Do you remember what I said?
Yeah, me too.
I let out a slow, even breath and put on my best smile as I sit down across from them and try not to kick Shade’s shin for ignoring me.
What I can’t ignore is the gravity pulling me to him, both physically and mentally, and I can’t for the life of me stop myself from staring at him. He’s wearing his sunglasses, so maybe he’s looking at me too?
Not likely. He’s texting someone, slouched in the chair with one hand on his drink, the other holding his phone. Much like the night I spent with him, he seems distracted.
Before I met Shade, I was blinded by the idea of him. Now, I see his faults and weaknesses. His lack of attention in anything aside from himself. But then again, I don’t think it’s him being selfish. I think it stems from him living a lifestyle where his privacy is never his.
Willa makes small talk with me, and I’m sweating so badly, my heart jumping up and down, I’m not sure if I hear anything she’s saying.
My stare keeps darting from Shade, to his hands, and the tattoos on them and more importantly, what those hands did for me the last time I saw him.
Do you think he remembers me?
Look at him. Nope. Not a fucking clue.
His phone hitting the table makes a thump, and he glances out the window with a dramatic roll of his head, his arms crossing over his chest. He’s quiet for a moment and then snorts, tipping his head to the ATM across the street where a woman is digging through her purse.
He nudges Willa. “Pretty sure that chick thinks her bag is twice as deep as it is. What the fuck is she looking for?” No sooner does he ask that the woman turns around. “Oh, damn. . . .” Shade’s lips press into a flat line, a subtle shake to his head and he reaches for his drink. “That’s a dude.”
Willa rolls her eyes at him and smiles at me. “Would you like something to drink?”
It takes me a moment to reply. I’m so nervous my lips barely work.
Hector approaches just then, or maybe he had been there all along, I’m not sure. “What’ll it be, Scar?”
I wink at him. “Can I get a Kamikaze?”
Shade raises his sunglasses, intense blue eyes fringed by dark lashes land on mine, studying me with unnerving intensity. “You’re at a job interview and you ordered a shot?”
Willa side-eyes him. “She can order a shot.” Then she motions to his drink. “You’re drinking.”
I gulp, literally fucking gulp like I’m swallowing a pill. “That was the wrong thing to do, wasn’t it? Fuuuuuck.” I slap my hand over my mouth. “Oh shit, crap, sorry. I know I shouldn’t have said that either. Crap. Mila told me to be cool and this is what I do?”
Pretty sure in the last ten seconds, I lost any chance at getting this job.
And then it happens. Shade laughs, an adorable chuckle falling from his beautiful lips. My eyes snap to his, our eyes meet. He’s smiling, a real, pearly white smile and my heart flutters because this kind of smile has to be earned. “You’re a little crazy, aren’t you?” I bask in the feeling of being on a roller coaster, one where smiles send you sailing into the blue of Shade’s eyes. Before I get too high, he sweeps his amused stare to Willa. “You’re going to leave me with her?”
You’re a little crazy? Why would he think that?
Oh, well maybe because one, you ordered a shot at a job interview and two, said fuck, not once, but twice now.
Willa ignores Shade and leans forward, her forearms pressing into the table. “Scarlet, tell us about yourself.”
Bad idea. Why anyone would ask that question at this point is beyond me. There’s no coming back from ordering a shot and cursing, so I’m honest from then on out. Might as well be, right? Wrong. This will come back to bite me in the ass like it always does. And not the good kind of bites Shade can deliver. These are the kind of bites a brown recluse death spider would deliver.
You know what else happens when I begin to speak? Look across the table.
Guess who placed his sunglasses on the table and is listening?
Shade.
“Well, as you already know, I’m a little bit fucked up,” I admit, being completely honest. “I’m twenty-six. I dropped out of college. Couldn’t afford it without a scholarship so I got a job here and have worked at the hotel with Mila for the last five years, and it’s something I’ve always enjoyed.”
“What was your major in college going to be?”
I’m ashamed to admit it. “I hadn’t declared one and even now, I wouldn’t know if I had to pick something.”
“Is your goal to be in management?” Willa asks, seeming genuinely interested.
“Fuck no.” Face palm. Jesus, stop cussing! “I feel that when you get to a management position, you lose touch with what you love about the job. You’re everything to everyone, and the personal relationship is gone. I enjoy people. In management, you’re directing everyone but you’re involved in nothing. I like more personal interactions.”
My stare snaps to Shade when I hear him chuckle under his breath.
“How personal?” Shade asks, that intensity returning, as does a defiant smirk he flashes. Despite a room full of people, my heart goes wild when his smirk curves into a smile, my blood racing through my veins. He’s giving me his full attention now.
Before I can say personal enough you wouldn’t pull out, Willa clears her throat, and I blink, looking away, my breathing secretly increasing.
We stand, because Willa does and I’m not sure what else to do, so I stand.
“Okay, thanks for meeting with us.” Reaching out, Willa shakes my hand, again, and guess who reaches for my hand this time?
Yep. Shade.
I’d like to think he feels a spark or even a memory of the time we shared when our hands touch, but truth be told, I doubt he does. His eyes aren’t on mine. They’re on my tits and then lower as they make a very erotic sweep over my five-foot-six frame.
I tingle. All over and I know he can see my nipples harden under the dress because I know I didn’t take my nipple rings out before changing. Helpless to his presence and the way it controls every part of my body, including the ability to function, my skin warms and my cheeks blush before I can step away.
He must like what he sees because he smiles, slyly, twirling a strand of my curls around his finger as he whispers, “I’ll put in a good word for you.”
Again. Gulp.
At least he didn’t ignore me this time.