The whiskey burns the inside of my nose, the amber liquid on ice sloshing in the glass as I take another tentative sip.
And I immediately start coughing as soon as it goes down.
Ugh. Why did I even think to try this nasty stuff?
Because tonight, I’m taking chances. Taking risks. Trying new things.
Tonight I’m not myself; I’m not Becky.
Tonight, I’m Gloria, the fabulously sexy, no-holds-barred, sensual Gloria.
I glance at the clock behind the bar, wondering where my husband is and how he’s going to react to my attempt at role-play. In my mind, I can visualize the look of confusion on his face. I’m almost one hundred percent positive I’ll have to spell out my intentions for him.
But that’s okay. I’m sure he’ll jump on board once he realizes I’m pretending to be someone sexy and sophisticated. Someone who wants to get him into the hotel bed upstairs for him to do as he pleases.
As I’m smoothing a hand down the black hemline of my new sleek dress, a deep voice interrupts my thoughts.
“Is this seat taken?”
Definitely not Jeremiah.
Slowly, I turn my head, shaking out my soft blond curls. My eyes widen in surprise when I look into the green gaze of an extremely attractive man gesturing to the barstool next to mine.
Did I say extremely attractive? Because that doesn’t even cover it. I mean, holy smokes. I’ve never seen such a beautiful man in person before. Glossy fashion-magazine good-looking, tall, and impeccably dressed, and his dark hair is styled with just the right amount of muss. He has captivating green eyes, just enough stubble shadowing a chiseled jawline, and broad shoulders under a very well-fitted suit… I’m no expert, but it looks Italian.
Wow.
Certain that my jaw just hit the ground, I clamp it shut.
Adonis cocks an eyebrow at me as he waits for me to answer. He wants to sit here? Next to me?
I resist the urge to ask if he’s lost.
“Oh!” I clear my throat, realizing he caught me staring. His lips curve into a charming smile. Ugh, get a grip, Becky. “I’m sorry. No. No, this seat isn’t taken.” Yet.
Darn it, Jeremiah, where are you?
Adonis’s smile broadens, and he goes about removing his suit coat, hanging it on the chair back before pulling out the barstool next to me and easing onto it. His large hand flags down the bartender, and he orders a whiskey. Neat.
I’m half tempted to slide mine over to him since Lord knows I won’t be trying to gag that down again. And definitely not in front of him, married or not.
He breaks the silence first. “So, what brings a stunning woman like yourself to the Heathrow Hotel?”
He removes an olive from the dish in front of us and pops it in his mouth, chewing slowly and watching me with those clear green eyes.
Um…
Wait. Is he flirting with me?
The strong, self-preserving part of me wants to turn to him right now and tell him that I’m married, but then I remember something. I’m here role-playing.
Tonight, I’m not married. Tonight, I’m Gloria.
And shouldn’t I be practicing so I’m convincing?
I really want Jeremiah to desire Gloria, so what’s the harm in practicing my flirtatious banter?
What could possibly go wrong?
“Oh, just here enjoying the ambiance,” I say with a saucy little smirk.
Crap, maybe that whiskey was stronger than I thought.
“Ah,” he responds with a knowing grin—and glaringly straight white teeth. I accept his knowing nod as encouragement that I gave the right response. He slides his hand forward across the dark polished bar top. “I’m Thomas, by the way.”
My hand accepts his in a shake, and I’d be lying if I said his hands weren’t turning me on. Just a tad. They are just the right amount of soft and rough. The right amount of hot and cold. The right amount of… man.
Oh boy. It’s getting hot in here.
“I’m Gloria,” I answer, stressing my alias.
His eyes dart to my whiskey glass. “What are you drinking, Gloria?”
“Oh, um,” I stumble over my words. “I was trying whiskey; I’ve never had it before, but to be honest, Thomas, I’m not sure I’m a fan.” I must look disgusted because he lets out a low, quiet laugh.
My body involuntarily shivers at the sound. Dammit, I may be role-playing, but I can’t hide my reactions to certain things.
But sheesh, I’m married, for pity’s sake!
Jeremiah, where are you?
Thomas gestures to the bartender again, ordering me an amaretto sour, saying with authority that it will be more to my taste. I take a tentative sip, and he’s right. It’s a drink I haven’t had in years, but it tastes a whole lot better than the lighter fluid I’d been gagging on.
“Tell me,” he says, turning his body to face me. “Are you from out of town, or do you live locally? Not to get too personal, but tell me your story.”
I open my mouth and then pause for a second. I wasn’t planning on meeting anyone except Jeremiah tonight, so I have no back-story on Gloria.
“Hmm, my story.” I pause a little longer, gathering my wits and praying I don’t sound like a complete idiot. “I live here in town. I thought it would be nice to treat myself to a drink in a more decadent place, ya know?”
Holy shit, that sounded good! Or believable at least. I hope.
Maybe I should have majored in theater back in college. I make a mental note to replay this conversation to Janine. She will be so proud.
I’m so out of practice with the flirting thing, before I dressed up and drove over, I thought it would be a wonder if Jeremiah actually decided to take me upstairs to the hotel room I booked. But at the rate he’s going, I might just end up having to go home. But that is not part of the plan.
Not if I have my way…
With Janine’s encouragement and her agreement to stay overnight with my “heathen herd of five children,” I booked us a room here at the hotel, bought myself a brand new dress, and decided to have sex with a “stranger”—just like we added to the Suck-it List.
The stranger being Jeremiah, who will pretend to be someone else. Once he finally gets here, of course.
I run a hand down the front of my new dress without thinking, and have to admit, I do look pretty hot in it. Short and black, the dress has a nude slip and a black lace overlay. It looks like I’m not wearing anything underneath the lace, while still being classy, sexy, and sophisticated. I paired it with three-inch patent-leather heels and simple diamond studs—the ones Jeremiah gave me for my thirty-fifth birthday.
Best of all, all these weeks at the gym finally appear to be paying off in the flab department.
Yet I’m still pretty shocked I’m attracting a man like Thomas. But I’m not going to dwell on it. I need to focus and practice my flirting.
“What about you?” I ask, changing the subject. “What brings you to our neck of the woods?”
He smiles at me and my whole body heats up. Whew! He is one attractive male specimen. Maybe I should introduce him to Janine.
No, that’s probably not a good idea either. I would lust over him too much if he became her boyfriend. Having lusty thoughts about your best friend’s boyfriend is not a good idea. It’s best to just enjoy things tonight and give her all the dirty details tomorrow.
Thomas shrugs, uncommitted. “You know, the usual. Business meetings. Sales calls. Dinner with clients.”
“Oh?” I ask over the rim of my glass as I take a sip of my new beverage. “What kind of business are you in?”
“I work in mergers and acquisitions,” he says confidently with pride. “Basically, when my company is in the position to take over another, I’m the guy they send in to evaluate the staff and managers. I’m the one that determines who we’re going to keep, and who’s disposable.”
“And by disposable you mean…?”
“Fired.”
“That sounds tough,” I say. “Knowing you’re going to have to fire all those people.”
“Well, the ones we let go typically receive a really good severance package, based on their employment contract,” he says this with a sigh. “It’s not fun, but it’s challenging. And we do what we can to make sure everyone is taken care of. Hopefully they’ve planned smart enough, so no one loses their livelihood because their company is being sold.” He shrugs again. “But enough about business. Let’s talk about more interesting things. What do you do, Gloria, for fun?”
“Volleyball.” I spout this gem off without thinking, tossing my silky hair over one shoulder. “I’m in a league. We play every Monday night. Last year we were undefeated.”
Here I am bragging, and it’s all lies.
“Really?” he asks, raising his perfect eyebrows. I bet he has them waxed. “You don’t seem tall enough to be a volleyball player.” His gaze turns shrewd, and he skims my body up and down with those green eyes.
“That’s what makes me dangerous,” I say, cocking my eyebrow flirtatiously and giving the ice in my amaretto sour a little shake. At least, I hope it’s flirtatious… Maybe I just sound nutty. Who knows. “I come from out of nowhere. They never expect it.”
Thomas laughs at my boast, which I take as a sign that I’ve got this flirting thing down and am approaching expert-level flirter. Or maybe that’s the alcohol talking.
“What about you, Thomas? What do you do for fun?”
He pauses to think for a minute, running a large palm over his chiseled jawline. “I love surfing, when I can make it out to a beach, of course. I’ll admit, there isn’t a lot of free time. Everyone thinks traveling for work is glamorous, but I’ll tell you, lack of free time is a downside, ya know.”
His lips turn down into a pout.
“I can imagine.” I take another sip of my delicious drink. I’m starting to feel much more relaxed as I slip further into my role as Gloria. Sexy, confident Gloria. Whoa, this concoction must be strong. “Okay, next non-work related question.”
“Okay,” he says as he downs the rest of his whiskey and signals the bartender for another one. “Hit me.”
“Favorite type of food.”
“Tex-Mex,” he says without missing a beat.
“Tex-Mex? Is that even a real cuisine?”
“It is if you’re in Texas,” he says, and I giggle. Damn, this drink is making me loopy. So of course I order another one. “It’s not quite real Mexican food. But it’s damn good. Full of grease and carbs and cheese. I eat it anytime I’m on the road. I love it.”
“I’ll have to try that next time I’m visiting my oil tycoon uncle in Texas,” I say, knowing damn well I don’t have any relatives in Texas, let alone an uncle in the oil industry. In fact, I’ve never even visited the Lone Star State. And for that matter, I have no clue how I even know it’s called the Lone Star State.
Shoot, I wonder if they have Trivial Pursuit Genius Edition somewhere behind the bar. I’m full of all kinds of useless information right now, and this drink is making me smart.
“Personally, I’m partial to French cuisine.” Another lie. I’ve never eaten French food; in fact, I’ve never even seen it… Wait. Except French fries. Do those count? Nevertheless, I prattle on, fueled by my amaretto sour. “I acquired a taste for it doing my marketing internship in Paris.” I pronounce Paris like Pear-ee.
Lies, lies lies. Not only have I never seen French cuisine, but I’ve never been across the pond. The closest I’ve ever gotten to Paris is the twins’ old DVD of Eloise at the Plaza. Not only that, but I most certainly do not have any sort of marketing background.
This, however, does not stop me from talking. “I lived there for about a year. Wanted to make sure I could speak fluent French before I came home, ya know?”
More lies. I can barely even speak English half the time.
But man, Paris, marketing, volleyball? This Gloria chick sounds freaking AMAZING!
“That’s really impressive, Gloria,” Thomas says sincerely. “I’ve always wanted to learn another language, but my brain can’t seem to pick it up.”
“Oh, it takes a while to get it down pat,” I say confidently, waving my hand airily to and fro. “But once you learn it, you know it for life. Oui, oui.”
And I have now crossed the threshold into having no earthly idea what I’m even talking about anymore. Oui, oui, Pear-ee.
Somewhere in the recesses of Thomas’s suit coat, his phone rings. Apologetically, he reaches in to pull it out, excusing himself to take the call once he gets a look at the screen.
“Ugh, I’m sorry, Gloria. I have to take this,” he says contritely. Sincerely. “My boss and I have been playing phone tag all day. Give me a few minutes and I’ll be right back, okay?”
“Oui,” I say, taking a sip of my newest drink. This is my third, not including the nasty whiskey. Whoops. My tolerance is not at all what it used to be.
A few minutes go by as I ponder Gloria and all her awesomeness. I think I’d like to be friends with her.
Suddenly, I feel stubble and lips as a slobbery kiss ends up on my cheek. At least, I think it’s slobbery. Definitely more slobbery than Gloria is used to.
I’m really getting into this role-play thing now!
It’s at this moment that a warm mouth kisses the back of my neck, and Jeremiah plops down on the stool next to me. “Hey, babe. Sorry I’m late.” He looks me up and down, taking in the sexy black dress, heels, and soft curly hair. “Whoa, babe. You look…”
I put a hand up to stop him. Getting into character, I narrow my eyes at him and answer in my best Gloria voice. “I’m sorry, have we met?” I ask him slyly.
He gets a confused look on his face. The same confused look he gets when he tries to use the electric can opener. “Umm, yeah, Becky.” He rolls his eyes and reaches for the beer menu. “I’m pretty sure we’ve met.”
“Who’s Becky? I’m sorry, but you must be mistaking me for someone else.” I smirk at him and bat my eyelashes. “My name is Gloria. I speak French. Because of my marketing internship. In Paris.” Pear-ee.
Jeremiah shakes his head a few times, like he’s ruffling feathers out of a nest, trying his best to make sense of what’s happening. But these drinks are making me feel so good, I don’t mind letting him try to figure it out for a few minutes.
“Are you feeling okay, Becks? You’re sounding kind of delirious. And drunk.” He leans in to take a whiff of me. “You smell like whiskey.”
I wave my hand in the air breezily. “I’m fine, I’m fine… Actually, sir—I’m more than fine now that you’re here. I’ve been waiting for a handsome stranger like yourself to join me for a nightcap. What did you say your name was again?”
I spin the barstool and cross my freshly shaven legs, hoping my husband will take notice.
He doesn’t. Ugh, seriously? Doesn’t he know how long it’s been since I’ve actually shaved my legs from top to bottom? None of this skipping my thighs crap. He could at least ogle my legs.
“It’s Jeremiah,” he says like he’s getting flustered. “Why are you acting like this? Are you coming down with something, Becks?” He stands and pulls out my barstool.
“Come on, I’m taking you home. Clearly your vision is impaired and you need to be in bed.”
He tries to haul me up, but I protest. “No! We are not leaving here. We are strangers, and I’m Gloria, and you’re going to flirt with me and pick me up and take me back to the hotel room to have your wicked way with me!”
Maybe I protest a little too much.
“I think you’d better take your hands off the lady.” Thomas appears out of nowhere, his voice menacingly low from behind me. His phone call is apparently over.
“It’s okay, buddy,” Jeremiah says kindly. “This is my wife, Becky, and she has apparently gotten herself a little drunk.”
Before Jeremiah can take a step, Thomas is in his face.
“I don’t know who you think you are, but Gloria here is doing just fine,” he says in a threatening tone. “And I don’t like that you are coming over here and man-handling an innocent woman after she’s been drinking.”
“What?” Jeremiah hasn’t caught on to the role-playing yet. And where is my drink? I need to finish it before we go. “Why does everyone keep calling her Gloria? This is my wife, Becky, and I’m taking her home.”
“I said take your hands off of her.”
I admit, the fact that Thomas is defending me against a “stranger” is kind of a turn-on. But the menacing tone he’s using is starting to sober me up. Apparently not fast enough, though.
“Get the hell away from us, buddy,” Jeremiah says, ignoring the lethal look in Thomas’s eyes. Crap. I bet a man like Thomas knows stuff, like karate. Or how to brandish a weapon… and his fists. Especially his fists.
I see it coming. I see it coming, but before I can say anything to stop the madness, Jeremiah goes and opens his mouth one more time. “Becky, we are going home. Now.”
He tugs my arm, and I fall off the barstool.
I fall off the barstool and wobble.
Just as Thomas’s fist collides with Jeremiah’s face.
To say the drive home is silent would be an understatement.
I sobered up quickly—especially when the hotel management showed up and escorted us off the property. I’ve seen it in movies. When they show security detail grabbing people by the upper arms and hauling them outside. Then the actors stumble down the concrete steps as security shouts, “And don’t come back!”
It apparently happens in real life, too.
That sobered me up quickly. That and the fact that Jeremiah can’t drive with his left eye swollen shut.
We pull into the driveway, and as we make our way to the front door, I follow sluggishly behind my husband. Hopefully, Janine is still awake so she can go home. She was so gracious about staying the night with the kids, but I also know she hates when they wake her up with their screeching to watch Disney DVDs at five o’clock on a Saturday morning. So it would be nice to let her go home.
As I open the door to the house, Janine walks around the corner, clearly charging forward to investigate.
“What the hell?” she asks loudly before stepping into the foyer. “Who the hell is here?”
She stops short when she sees us. “What the hell?”
And then, as she catches a glimpse of Jeremiah’s shiner… “What. The. Effing. HELL?”
I drop my keys onto the little wooden table, mope into the living room, and drop down onto the black leather couch with a sigh. “So… long story short: role-playing didn’t go quite as planned.”
“I’ll say,” Jeremiah grumbles as he stalks to the kitchen, yanks open the freezer, and starts rifling for a bag of frozen veggies to use as an ice pack for his blackening eye.
“Shit, this is gonna be good,” Janine says as she plops down next to me. “Explain.”
I sigh and rub my eyes. “Where do I start?”
Jeremiah walks back into the living room, a bag of peas on his face. “Hey, how about you start by telling her about the guy you were flirting with before I got there?” he suggests, sitting down in the chair opposite us. “I’d like to hear about that one as well.”
Janine’s eyes get big. “You flirted with a guy? Was he cute?”
“Ugh, Janine—he was more than cute. Sorry, honey,” I admit to them. “He was the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. He was GQ magazine worthy.”
Jeremiah snorts. “He was not.”
I giggle at his disgust. “Oh, come on. If you swung that way, you would have been into him, too,” I spout off. Jeremiah shrugs but doesn’t disagree. “Way better than your boyfriend Don Dean.”
“So wait,” Janine interjects, holding up her hand to command our full attention. “Why were you flirting with some hottie instead of your husband?”
“Yes! Thank you!” my husband preens at her.
I hold up my hands defensively. “Hold on. Jeremiah was running late. Really, really, late. And I wanted to try Gloria on for size. Start the role-playing before he got there, ya know? I figured, what could possibly go wrong?”
“Famous last words.” My husband snorts again, pointing to his eye as my best friend nods.
“Sure, sure. Get into character.”
“Exactly.” Janine knows me so well. “So, anyway, Thomas and I start talking and I’m getting more comfortable—”
“And drunk,” Jeremiah interrupts. “You were getting more drunk—”
“And,” I interrupt back, “maybe just a wee bit tipsy.”
Jeremiah snorts. “Tipsy enough that when I show up to the bar and my wife is calling herself Gloria and spouting off shit about living in Paris, I assume she must have knocked herself in the head a few too many times and try to take her home.”
“Why didn’t you just explain to him about the role-play?” Janine asks. “That would have solved this whole mess.”
“I was being sexy.” I bite my bottom lip. “I was into the role and enjoying myself, so I just kind of… didn’t.”
“Until after He-Man clocked me in the face for trying to take care of my own wife and put her to bed at home.”
“Oh no!” Janine exclaims, stifling a giggle. It escapes.
“Oh yes,” I reply.
My best friend leans forward, interested. “How did He-Man Hottie take it when he found out what was going on?”
I cringe again. “He was pretty pissed.”
“He was pissed because you played him, Becky,” Jeremiah says. “He wanted to get lucky. He didn’t know he was hitting on a married woman who was practicing for her husband.”
Wait. Why is he defending Thomas now? He was just pissed at him two seconds ago.
“You pretty much humiliated him,” he tacks on, making me feel a twinge of guilt.
“I wasn’t trying to.”
“I know that, and you know that, but he doesn’t know that,” he adds. “And as an added bonus, he could have been charged with assault because of assumptions he made based on your actions. That’s a sucky position for him to be in.”
“You wouldn’t do that, would you?” Janine asks with her eyes wide.
“Of course not.” Jeremiah waves her off, looking back and forth between Janine and me. “I could never blame an innocent guy when you two are involved.” He shakes his head, chagrinned.
I role my eyes as Janine turns back to look at me. “But why are you guys home? Why didn’t you just stay at the hotel? You could have still used the time away.”
Jeremiah and I look at each other, both embarrassed about this part. Finally, I cave and answer. “When the hotel manager came in the bar to see what all the ruckus was about, we were sort of escorted out of the building and asked never to return.”
Janine stifles a laugh. “What? You’ve been banned from the Heathrow Hotel?”
We both nod. “They even pulled our pictures from the security cameras and taped them up behind the front desk,” Jeremiah admits.
And now Janine isn’t stifling her laugh anymore. She’s outright laughing. “Only you two could go to a swanky hotel to have a sexy night away, and end up back home because of a bar room brawl.”
“Uh, no,” Jeremiah defends himself. “Only you two would come up with these crazy ideas. I just happen to be the innocent victim that gets caught in the crossfire,” he says, pointing at his eye.
We sit in silence for a few minutes before Janine finally breaks the ice. “Well, as much as I would love to sit here in the awkward silence, I’m kind of looking forward to sleeping in tomorrow morning. So I’m gonna grab my bags and take off.” She pauses when an idea hits her. “Maybe I’ll head over to the Heathrow and see if He-Man needs some company.”
I groan. “Please don’t do that. He probably deserves a little distance from all of us at this point. Including you.”
“We’ll see,” she sings as she runs up the stairs to grab her stuff out of my bedroom. Jeremiah and I are left alone. And he’s still stewing. I clear my throat.
“You know,” I begin, “that shiner is kind of sexy on you.”
Jeremiah looks up at me, trying not to smirk. “Really?”
“Really.” I nod. “You got it when you were trying to defend me from a strange man. There’s nothing sexier than that.”
“You’re right. I was defending you. Thomas, on the other hand, was defending Gloria. Whoever the hell she is.”
He’s got a point.
“Next time, can you please tell me in advance when we’re playing a game like this? I’m really going to miss the big poker night fundraiser the hotel throws every year,” he says as he stands up and makes his way to the stairs. “There goes our invitation.”
“I’m really sorry, Jeremiah,” I say genuinely as he shuffles his way up the stairs.
“I know you are,” he says. “I’m going to bed as soon as Janine vacates the premises. Maybe I can speed her up by threatening to use the bathroom.”
I lean my head back against the couch and close my eyes. This did not turn out the way I had planned.
So much for role-play.
And sleeping in past five on a Saturday.