Chapter 6

ASHER

Joe is a man after my own heart, if only I was ten years older and still woman crazy. More to the point, neither one of us knows how to take no for an answer, which is how I ended up on this boring blind date. I like to think his take no-prisoners attitude is what makes him a successful partner at my firm.

I’m not exactly trying to ignore my date, but I can’t stop myself from glancing at my phone for the millionth time. I work hard to make my boredom not be so obvious, pretending to at least appear somewhat interested in my date.

Like every woman Joe seems to know, my date is a model. He swore this one was different from all the rest and I just had to meet her. What I should have done is consider the source of this information. I knew better, but I also knew I wouldn’t be able to dodge Joe or the date for too long, so I reluctantly agreed. Big mistake.

I’m willing to bet my entire fortune Joe finds these women all in the same place. I knew at first glance this one is the same as the others. From her tight dress to the make-up caked on her face, I could tell from a mile away. The pissed-off blonde with the dog from yesterday definitely didn’t fit that same mold. Her beauty was effortless with her fresh face and messy hair.

To be fair, Alexa, my date, is absolutely gorgeous, but looks aren’t enough anymore and I’ve had enough models. I occasionally nod politely as she explains every single detail about the latest fashion show she walked in. In truth, I’m only catching every other word of this one-sided conversation.

She name-drops different designers she’s worked with and how she’s due in Paris next week for another show. Luckily, the server enters and interrupts her little story time by handing us the menus. Alexa pauses for a moment to review the options and I use this time as an opportunity to check my phone. I’m expecting Amelia to send over a few documents I need to review, and at this point they would be more interesting than this date.

“I’ll have a watercress salad, no dressing, but bring two lemon wedges on the side,” says Alexa, handing the menu back to the server without looking at him.

“Are you sure you don’t want a steak or a lobster tail?” I ask although I know the answer.

She complained the whole ride over here about how she couldn’t wait to eat and now she practically orders a forty-dollar plate of grass. These models are all the same. I can’t imagine going to dinner, with someone else footing the bill might I add, and only eating a salad. Not that I want to be taken advantage of, but I also don’t want another incident where my date passes out from not eating enough food. Now that was a date to remember for sure, and not in a good way.

“I’m sure,” she says, leaning over the table, her breasts spilling out of her tight dress. “I have to maintain my figure for work.”

I nod again, ignoring the little peepshow she’s giving me. I decide instead to cast my gaze on my phone and check it again for any missed messages. Any other time Amelia is updating my schedule and messaging me like crazy, but now that I need the distraction, she’s nowhere to be found. I’m positive the two-hundred-page business proposal I’m expecting will be more interesting than anything happening on this date. At least the documents are something I’ve been looking forward to.

My mind takes a break from my current situation and drifts back to the blonde from yesterday. The pissed-off little firecracker was ready to explode. And what’s funny is, her anger was directed at me, and I’m not one-hundred percent sure why.

Her fiery attitude was a turn on, and I spent the rest of the day replaying the incident in my mind. Those sky-blue eyes of hers drilled holes into my memory and I liked it.

I can’t believe she accused me of all people of spying on her. To be fair, she was right about the telescopes, but I still have no idea which window is hers, since every possible option has the blinds drawn. If I would have seen her, I’m sure I would remember. I retraced my steps from the day I was using my telescope and still have no clue. I need to talk to her though, her beauty and attitude are intriguing, and more importantly I want to ease her mind and let her know I wasn’t spying on her.

“Asher?” Alexa strokes my arm with her fingertips and smiles. “I lost you for a few minutes. Where’d you go just now?”

My mind goes blank as I stare at her overly plump lips and think back to the mystery woman yet again. Her lips were amazing, natural and formed into the perfect pout. A very kissable pout.

I plaster on a phony smile and try to think of a reasonable explanation to give. “Sorry, I’ve been swamped with work lately and my mind is all over the place.”

She scoots closer to me and glides her hand up my thigh. “There’s only one place my mind is focused on and if you want, I can help you get there too.”

Her advances instantly make me regret requesting the private dining room. She’s taking advantage of the privacy we have and I want no part of it.

I place my hand over hers and give it a soft squeeze to stop her from going any higher up my leg. The server interrupts us again, returning with our food and I pretend to be overly excited about it.

Under normal circumstances, if I were with someone I like, I’d slip the server a few bucks to give us some added privacy and commence fucking my date across the table. But tonight doesn’t fall under the category of normal circumstances. In fact, I desperately want to get rid of Alexa and delete her contact information from my phone. Instead of a friendly fuck, I really want to give her a final farewell.

I take a bite of lobster and pick up my phone again. My mailbox icon flashes and I focus my attention on the documents Amelia just sent over. Thank goodness!

“I must be pretty boring,” says Alexa, pretending to pout. She lazily stabs at her salad and looks at me.

“Of course not,” I say. “But money never sleeps.”

She smiles, leans over the table again and runs her fingers through my hair. “I know, but maybe it can take a break. I’m positive I can take your mind off work after dinner. Or if you want, I can work my magic right now.”

There’s not a snowball’s chance in hell you’re taking my mind off anything. Not now or ever.

“Tell me more about what you do,” I say, trying to steer the conversation somewhere else and away from any idea of us getting naked together.

I stare as Alexa jumps back into talking about her favorite topic… herself. She reminds me of those kid dolls with the big eyes and huge lips everybody went crazy over that one year during Christmas season. I zero in on her face and I notice it doesn’t move very much, likely a result of too much Botox. I’m not one to judge a nip and a tuck here and there, but Alexa’s face is practically frozen.

I will never let Joe talk me into another blind date ever again.

I feel like a robot as I go through all the motions of being a gentleman. Once dinner is over, I settle the bill, pull out her chair, and reluctantly allow her to drape herself over my body as I escort her to my waiting Rolls-Royce.

Ed is parked right out front and stands there, holding the backdoor wide open. Alexa makes a big production of getting inside, her skin-tight dress riding up her thighs just enough to reveal she’s not wearing anything underneath. As soon as the door closes behind us, she leaps onto me, kissing my neck as she tries to shove my hand under her dress.

I politely attempt to dodge her advances but every once in a while, her lips hit her target… me.

“Ed, take me home,” I say.

He nods and hits the button to raise the partition. I really wish he hadn’t done that. Privacy is the last thing I need with Alexa and her tentacle-like hands groping all over my body. My mind replaces her with an image of the blonde mystery lady. If she was back here instead of Alexa I doubted we would be able to make it out of the parking lot with our clothes still intact.

I need that kind of fire in my life. I’ve had my fair share of the Alexas of the world and I don’t want more of the same. I gently hold Alexa off with one hand and check my phone with the other. The voicemail icon is flashing and I quickly check to see who I missed a call from.

“I really need to check this message,” I say, turning my back to Alexa. I press the button and listen closely.

“Hey uh, Mr. Jordan, it’s Grant. I dropped by your place but you weren’t there and I can’t find my key. So, um… I’ll catch you next time.”

I press the button to end the voicemail wanting to fold my phone in half. Since I don’t own the building yet, I can’t just flat out fire Grant. One thing for sure, I’m making it my personal mission to contact his boss and have him be the one to terminate his useless ass. What kind of maintenance man loses his copy of the resident’s key?

I turn back to Alexa to apologize for my distant and probably rude behavior, and I instantly want to roll my eyes. She has pulled her dress down to expose her breasts and has one hand working feverishly between her thighs.

“Come play,” she moans.

“You appear to have it under control,” I say dryly.

She nods her head and closes her eyes. “Right, you just sit there and watch, it’ll be your turn in just a minute.”

I ignore her moans and heavy breathing and scroll through my emails. Glancing out the window, I consider jumping out into traffic just to get away from this date from Hell. Luckily, I start seeing the familiar buildings of my street.

We pull up just in time and I slide over to open the door. Alexa scrambles to put herself back together and attempts to get out too, but I block her exit. Ed opens his door and gets out, trying to assist me.

“That won’t be necessary, Ed. Take Alexa home or wherever she wants to go.”

Alexa looks up at me and I notice her lipstick is smeared. I pray it’s not all over me and my collar.

“I thought we were going to your place,” she says.

I shake my head and smile. “I’m really beat, and tonight is not a good time. I’d rather wind down and be alone,” I say.

She pokes out her lip and sits back on the seat. “Next time?” she asks.

“Sure,” I say, not even trying to disguise the sarcasm in my voice. I close the door and walk to my building without so much as a backwards glance.