“Where’s your man?” He grabs the flute of champagne from me and takes a sip while I roll my eyes, but I use the free hand to eat my own crab cake.
“He’s losing money at the roulette wheel. Something about his luck turning any minute.”
He passes the flute back more than half empty. “Great. Now that our idle chit chat is out of the way, here’s my real question.” My ears perk up. "Who’s the red haired girl in the green dress who walked down with Simone?”
“Clare?” I can’t think of another red haired person who Simone could have attached herself to, but she doesn’t seem Grant’s type.
“If I knew her name I wouldn’t ask you, Marissa.” Grant takes another bite of his crab cake and he’s lucky he stuffed his mouth before more attitude came out of it.
I pop a hip. “Leave Clare alone. She’s nice and I like her. She’s not your type and if you sleep with her and don’t call her the next day, she’ll never hang out with us again.”
“That wasn’t my plan at all, Marissa. Have a little faith.”
Really? It wasn’t his plan at all. I bet. “What happened to Natasha?”
“Who?” he asks taking a bite like the clueless man he is.
“The girl you were texting the other night at Ryland’s?”Why are men so stupid sometimes?
He finishes chewing with a large swallow at the end. “Oh Tash… yeah it didn’t work out.”
I knew it. Grant isn’t a mean guy. He’s not even what I’d call a player, but his ability to forget about women is legendary. Not a single girl lasts more than a week, two tops before he’s decided “it didn’t work out” and moved on to the hunt for a replacement.
“Uh-huh. I’m sure it didn’t.” The door to the back office opens and Ryland steps into the lobby heading toward us. “Listen, Grant, don’t sleep with her. Please…for me.”
Ryland makes it to us and uses an arm to pull me closer. I’d be pissy about his long damn arms if I didn’t love to be in them so much. I want to play with the extra material of his black suit. Maybe slip my hand in the sleeve. I can't help myself. The traditional suit with a black shirt and dark plum tie make him irresistible.
“Have either of you seen Trey or Simone?” Ryland asks stealing my last crab cake. Men. Seriously.
We both shake our heads and I stick my trash on one of the small round tables placed around the room.
“I’ll look around and try to find them.” Grant volunteers his service, but I know where he’s really off to. Wherever Clare is.
From what I’ve noticed from my time with Clare, she knows how to take care of herself. I only hope she’ll be able to stand up against Grant’s charms. If he does sleep with her and she goes Grant crazy, our weekly chats are bound to become awkward.
“Are you two fighting?” Ryland watches Grant leave the room with a speculative look.
“Don’t ask.” I consider telling Ryland about the Clare thing, but then I realize Grant technically never made me the promise.
Ryland pulls at the plum tie wrapped around his neck. “How much longer is this thing?”
I sneak a quick glance at the huge clock on the wall behind us since he’s apparently become incapable. “A while. What’s wrong? Did you lose your money already?"
He chuckles. “No, Kitten. In fact, I made a new plan. I’m giving you my chips and letting you win for me.”
“You know you’ve already given them your money, right?” I question his commitment to this need to win.
“Yes, Marissa. I know how a charity casino works, but I’d still like to say I won tonight.”
Ah. It’s the competitive side coming out. The same reason he races the car next to us at every stop light.
“Can I take the jacket off at least? It’s probably why I’m losing so much. I can’t focus all stuffy in this suit. My mojo is off.”
I sigh and pat him on the shoulder allowing my hand to slide down the arm. “I guess, but forewarning, this suit is hot on you. It makes me want to do things.”
His eyes light up. “Oh yeah, what kind of things?”
“Take it off and you’ll never know.”
