Taryn waved her off. She didn’t want Cassandra thinking she was some kind of player. “She practically jumped on me. And unless she’s blind drunk, I bet she’s all volume and no content.”
“And you’re not used to those kinds of approaches at all.” Andi chuckled and continued to surreptitiously stare vamp-Erin’s way. Maybe she wasn’t ready to think about settling down tonight after all.
Cassandra raised her eyebrow. “You certainly have a unique way of letting a woman know you’re not interested.”
“Unique and not mean?” Taryn asked. “I don’t go out of my way to be an asshole, but she just set herself up for that response.”
Cassandra looked toward Erin and smiled genuinely. “As you’ve already astutely deducted, Erin is a few colors short of a rainbow. She tends to hook her company based on her looks rather than her mental acuity. But I’ve never seen her go home alone, and she keeps coming back, so she must be happy enough.”
Cassandra’s response wasn’t an answer to Taryn’s question, much like her comment about Taryn not drinking something fancy was left in the air. “So you think I was mean?”
“No,” Cassandra said and placed her hand over Taryn’s. “I think you were amusing.”
Though Cassandra’s hand was chilled from holding her glass, her touch sent a predictable and inevitable fiery thrill up Taryn’s arm. She shivered and gooseflesh flashed along her skin. Taryn caught Cassandra’s tiny smirk and eyebrow twitch at her reaction.
“What did you say?” Andi asked.
Taryn had been so caught up with staring into Cassandra’s eyes, so brown they were almost black in this light, that she’d nearly forgotten they weren’t alone. She reluctantly turned her attention to Andi. “Something about turkeys contemplating the meaning of life.”
Andi rolled her eyes. “Great, I can imagine the rest. I disagree with Cass. That was mean.”
“Do you think they really do? Turkeys, I’m talking about,” Rachel said.
“I think anything’s possible.” Taryn gazed at Cassandra. What would it take to make Cassandra going home with her tonight likely? She couldn’t get a handle on whether Cassandra would indulge in sex immediately after meeting someone. But goddamn, she wanted to find out.
“Anything?” Cassandra asked.
“Sure.”Challenge accepted.“If you really want something to happen, you just have to put it out into the Universe, and the Universe will provide.” Taryn was a hundred percent certain that would get an arched eyebrow from Cassandra. She seemed like more of a scientific than spiritual type.
Cassandra gently shoved Taryn’s shoulder. “I don’t believe thatyoubelieve that for a second.”
“Really? And what makes you think that?”
Cassandra narrowed her eyes and nibbled her bottom lip. “I think that you’re someone who isn’t afraid of hard work. You’re someone who isn’t about to let the Universe decide whether or not you achieve something, whether or not you get what—or who—you want.”
“Ha!” Andi gave Taryn’s back a hard smack. “She’s got you all worked out, T.” She grinned at Cassandra. “What did you say you were, Cass? A shrink?”
Cassandra’s expression made it clear she didn’t appreciate Andi shortening her name, but she didn’t comment. Nor did she respond with her occupation. Taryn decided not to push for the answer since she was in no hurry to share her career information either. People were always quick to cast judgment on what she did for a living, and it was usually polarizing; they were either impressed or aghast. She was deemed either fantastically brave or incorrigibly stupid. How amazing it must be to fly through the air at four hundred miles per hour! Or, how reckless you are to risk your life for a passing thrill.
Inexplicably, Cassandra’s opinion mattered, and Taryn didn’t want to be on the negative end of it.
“Is your friend correct? Do I have you worked out?” Cassandra looked directly at her.
Taryn took a small sip of her whiskey. One more slurp, and it’d be gone. Cassandra had only deigned to have their company for one drink, and Taryn had no idea if she’d done enough to secure an extended invitation, or if what she’d done had already guaranteed a swift end to this enjoyable interlude. Well, she was enjoying it if no one else was. In her peripheral vision, she saw Andi sending long glances toward the vampy tables, and Rachel seemed only interested in Cassandra’s scintillating contributions. For which, Taryn didn’t blame her in the least.
“I think it takes one to know one, Cassandra,” Taryn said, feeling her way by the minuscule changes in Cassandra’s expressions, “but I also think that would have to be the topic of conversation over dinner in a much quieter environment.”
Her response seemed to amuse Cassandra. She sucked on her straw, and Taryn swallowed, unable—and frankly, unwilling—to push away the image of Cassandra’s lips on hers.
“Since you seem to be one for unique approaches, is that your way of asking me to dinner?”
Boy, Taryn was enjoying this repartee. “Do youwantme to ask you to dinner?”
Cassandra carefully placed her drink on a paper coaster and leaned back in her chair. “A safer question then. If the government decided to wipe the earth clean of Sin City, what would be the one thing you’d petition to save?”
Taryn laughed at the absurd but very original question and the way in which Cassandra had chosen not to answerherquestion. She could honestly say she had never been asked something like that in the cold light of day, let alone in the dark, sexy corners of a club. She found it refreshing. “Do I look like someone who fills in petitions and lobbies?”
“Everyone cares about something.”
