“Really?”

“Oh yeah.  Go ahead.  You nail this interview and you’re set for life at The Weekly Enquirer, you know that, right?”

“Oh my gosh… OK.  I won’t let you down, Mr.  Kinsley!”

“Great, call me as soon as it’s over,” he said.

“OK.  Bye.”

“Bye.” I put my phone away and looked for Jace, but it seemed that his call was more involved than mine.

OK.  Flirt back.  Easy, women have the upper hand on that front, right? Except… I had no idea what to do.  My sisters had tried to explain the art to me, but it just never clicked.

The fact that it came so naturally to them, apparently to every woman but me, had always made me feel almost less than human, like there was something special missing from me that made me worth less than everybody else.  They could do more with a flick of their hair or a bitten bottom lip than I could ever do.

Yet, hadn’t Jace been looking at me all night, like I was just as appetizing as the masterfully crafted meals that had been placed in front of us? At his office too?

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach when I remembered him looking down my top as if he liked the view.  I glanced furtively from side to side and then looked down myself.

My breasts were on the small side, not like his receptionist, not like all the girls he had his photograph taken with.  But he did look.

Clearing my throat quietly as if that was a good distraction I brought my hand to the top of my shirt, near my neck.  I could feel it shaking as my inhibitions fought tooth and nail with my need to do what it took to prove myself in the big wide world and my desire to have Jace’s eyes on me.

I undid the top button and pushed the sides of my shirt open a little.  It was, possibly, the bravest thing I ever did.

Nobody eating around me seemed to notice the shameless hussy in their midst and I laid my hands flat on the table to keep them steady while I braced myself to pour on whatever charm I could muster.

The young couple who had been at the front desk walked between the tables, led by a waiter, talking loudly and all puffed up with self-importance.  They both looked a little on the merry side and the woman stumbled on her high heels as she was passing our table.

Her thigh bumped the edge and my glass of wine toppled straight into my lap.  I yelped at the sudden cold on my thighs and scrambled for a napkin.

The woman regained her balance and brought her hand to her mouth, looking like she was going to say sorry for a second.  Then she looked me up and down, and seemed to decide that you don’t need to apologize to people below your station or something.

“Be careful!” I said.

Well, she didn’t like that.  “What’s your problem?”

“What do you think? You just spilled my drink all over my skirt!”

She laughed.  “Well, it’s not like it was a very nice skirt.  It looks like it came out of some bargain bin.”

I could feel all eyes on me, but not in a good way like when Jace looked at me.  All that attention drawn to my cheap clothes.  I had got the skirt from a bargain bin.

“It was a nice skirt,” I murmured, already certain of defeat.

“Hey, don’t disrespect my fiancé,” said the man with her.

I looked up at him and then between the two of them.  I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes, the shame of it all.  All around me, people were watching, some of them looked uncomfortable, some of them merely interested.  A few seemed to be enjoying the way the riff-raff was being put in her place.

I was going to flirt with the hottest guy I’d ever seen in real life.  I was going to have fun, let myself pretend he really wanted me, and get the interview of the century all at the same time.

Instead, I thought I was probably about five seconds away from running out that front door sobbing.

Chapter 6

Jace

I was going to fucking detonate.  Three guys dead and Santino escaped? Since when did he turn into a fucking ninja?

Lorenzo called from the warehouse.  Apparently he and Roydon arrived just in time for Santino to catch Roydon with a lucky headshot from long range as he was getting out of the car.

Lorenzo shot back, but Santino managed to get to a car and got away.  Unbelievable.  Now, instead of information and one more dead Picolli, I had to send a clean-up crew in to take care of the mess.

That was a damn shame about Roydon.  He was a tough kid and I had the feeling he hated the Picollis almost as much as I did.  Fuckin’ shot.

When I came inside out of the cool air, I was just in time to see Coralie leaving her front desk and rushing into the restaurant.  I was close behind and my brow furrowed when I saw that it was our table that seemed to be the center of attention.

Some loudmouth asshole and his whore girlfriend were standing over Kendall, with a waiter nearby.  They were all talking at once, pointing fingers.  The guy was talking about respect and was getting more and more in Kendall’s face even as Coralie arrived and tried to pull him back.

“I didn’t pay five hundred dollars a seat to reserve a table just so I would have to look at the damn help eating in the same room.  I didn’t know Luc Monette’s was giving out coupons now.”

Kendall looked terrified, like she was reliving some schoolyard bullying memory.  Worst of all, there was this… acceptance on her face, in the near-sobbing quiver of her lip.  It was almost as if life dished up this kind of shame to her all the time and nothing ever changed.  Nobody ever helped.

A sexy girl like her should have had the world eating out of the palm of her hand.  That light I saw in her eyes when she noticed me checking her out shouldn’t be extinguishable by the likes of these people.

I was surprised at how much that affected me.  I wasn’t surprised at how murderously fucking pissed off I was.

“Who.  The.  FUCK.  Do you think you’re talking to?”

What little conversation in the room that had survived this long promptly ceased as the whore yelped in surprise and the two of them both startled.  The guy whirled around in surprise.

After sizing me up for a second, he came to the wrong conclusion, and pointed at Kendall.  “This b-”

“You better rethink what you’re about to say, motherfucker.  What happened, Kendall?” I asked without taking my eyes of this dude, all puffed up like he was going to take a swing.  I fucking hoped he did.

“She spilled my wine on me,” Kendall said, quietly.  Almost apologetically.

“So what are you doing getting in her face?” I asked.  “Actually, don’t answer that, because I don’t give a fuck.  Get down on your hands and knees, lick her shoes, and beg for forgiveness.  Pray to the god of worthless cocksuckers she grants it.”

The asshole looked ready to tell me to fuck off, and I stepped right in close to him until our noses were almost touching.  “Five hundred dollars is a big price tag to come here and end up eating your own teeth, bitch.”

I could feel this energy heating up inside of me, flooding my muscles with adrenaline like it did before every fight.  On a hair trigger, I waited for the release.  I was ready to explode at any sudden movement.

By the time I was done, his own mother would run for the hills at the sight of him.  I was pissed beyond words at the news Lorenzo had just dropped on me, and this nobody was going to bear the brunt of it.

“Kick his ass, Mike,” said his piece of fluff.

But then, sometimes people surprise you.  His eyebrows twitched a bit as he lost nerve and backed down, slowly lowering himself to his hands and knees in front of Kendall.

No self-respecting man ever literally licked somebody’s shoes, but that’s what Mike did.  For a second my rage threatened to boil over, as if he had robbed me of a fight specifically to piss me off.  I almost kicked him in the head right there, he was at the right height for it now.