He liked his women confident, but Jessika was treading fast into brazen. She appeared not to care that her blatant actions were making everyone at the table a tad uncomfortable.
Her lips kissed the edges of the wine glass in a move he knew she was aware made her look seductive, but it only brought one thing to his mind — practiced.
Nothing she did came naturally, except maybe her pretense. Her conversation circled around her hobbies; shopping and spinning. Her next attempt was informing him of her friends and acquaintances — impressive if he did not have those same acquaintances. She pointed out the best parts of her and her efforts to stay perfect.
Was this all that he had to look forward to in the dating world? Vapid women whose conversations were dryer than a ledger sheet?
He caught his grandfather's eye and stood to his feet in one quick move. "Excuse me, gentlemen, Jessika."
He lingered in the restroom, perhaps too long. Michael glanced at his face in the mirror, and then watched the water cascade down his hands and into the porcelain bowl. He wrung his hands dry of water for the last time before grabbing a paper towel to turn off the tap, and grabbing another to pat his hands dry.
His reflection caught his eye again and he regarded it with a menacing look.
No matter what his grandfather said about him getting more stubbornness from a different gene pool, he got enough from the Harper's.
I look too much like him.An all too vivid reminder, he decided, before he turned away from the mirror and walked out of the scented bathroom.
Closing the door with a click, he almost ran right into a woman, sidestepping her just in time. His apology died on his lips when he caught sight of the person standing in front of him.
"Jessika, what are you doing here?” His tone clipped as he trained his eyes on her.
She fidgeted at the intensity of his look. "You were gone a while. I wanted to make sure you’re okay," she shrilled with a wide, winning smile.
There went her fluttering lashes. He was completely unmoved.
"I am touched," he said, his voice heavy with sarcasm.
"Let’s ditch this dinner and continue our conversation at my place."
"Not gonna happen," he said.
"Don't be like that Mikey. I can be anything you want me to be." She pouted, taking a step closer. He cringed at her use of the nickname his grandfather called him.
How long before you can't keep up the pretense?“I am sure that you can, but I’m not interested."
She lost her smile for a quick second before it returned, and with blinding intensity. "For a second there you got me. You sure love to tease."
You’re determined,he wanted to tell her. Her throaty voice had gotten even more bold and suggestive, giving him another hint of what she would sound like in bed.
Too bad he was no longer interested in finding out — he drew the line at desperation. He had no idea of promises made to her, but his grandfather was too canny a man to make any promises.
She had taken his silence for acquiescence, and moved her hands down his shirt and glided them over the front fabric of his trousers.
He caught her hand before it made a second pass, flipping it aside. "Are you done?"
She did not look rebuffed, and the smile that he already thought was impossibly bright, brightened even more. "As expected, you would love to take the lead. But I know what I want, and I want you." Her tone was designed to make a man beg, but it only repulsed him.
He caught her hands again before she could place them around his shoulders, pushing her aside. He moved to walk past her, but froze in his place with her next words.
“My grandfather told me about what happened with your parents. I—”
He did not acknowledge her words with more than a brief stall in his stride and continued toward their dinner table without hearing whatever else she wanted to say. As he made his excuses to the older me, he caught the disappointment in their eyes, but he was not about to spend the rest of his night entertaining an entitled and spoiled woman, who, despite having people who pandered to her every whim, managed to end up being a desperate, grasping creature.
?TRINITY?
Trinity smiled at the little girl bouncing next to her as she tried to force the key into the keyhole. Her hand was numb, and the heavy grocery bag threatened to cut off her circulation.
"Then she promised we would make cupcakes next time," Miranda exclaimed.
