“Oho!” I say aloud, sinking deeper into the cushions. “Very sassy.”
I text back.Dude, you are on thin ice with me already. Your next question should be “How else may I do your bidding today?” Don’t push your luck or I’ll use you as a fuckin footstool.
A few minutes pass and I wonder if he’s got his feathers ruffled, but then he says,I can be there in fifteen minutes if you need anything. Aren’t I supposed to help you create a video?
I’d forgotten about that, but now I have to play it out, so I tell Alexander,Yeah let’s shoot a post or two. Make it snappy, intern.
When I let him into the suite, it’s been exactly fifteen minutes, but he’s totally chill like he didn’t hurry—bespoke teal suit and a plum shirt unbuttoned practically halfway to show off his chest, not a “dark auburn” hair out of place.
He saunters to the sofa and manspreads himself, one arm uncurled across the back. I spit a few sunflower shells pointedly into the paper envelope, eyeing him.
“Putting that to use, I see,” he says, and the sly look on his face makes me wish I hadn’t spat anything out in front of him.
I drop his repurposed note into the trash can. “Wouldn’t’ve taken you for a craftsy guy.”
“I’ve loads of hidden talents.” He glances around the room. “Where’s Priya?”
“Downstairs at the gym. So, about the video thing. Ideas?”
His eyebrows lift. “What happened to your purported ‘concept’?”
I step onto the adjacent love seat and perch on the back so I can look down at him. “Yeah, there was no concept. I just wrote down random shit to keep you running around town all day.”
A brief narrowing of his gray eyes makes me think I’ve won and he’s going to throw a hissy fit, but he just chuckles. “Well played. But”—he points at me, and I feel it like a touch—“fool me once.”
“Psh!You think I’d recycle the same prank? I have a hundred better ways to torture you.”
“Seems you’d have far more pressing demands on your time, but make a meal of it.”
It’s annoying how this guy turns even my wins into losses. Now I look pathetic for putting this much energy into it. I slide down onto my back on the love seat and pull a throw pillow over my face and comically scream into it. When I fling the cushion aside and look at Alexander, his smile is surprisingly genuine rather than smug like I expected.
“Rough day, pet?”
“I’m fucking tired. And tomorrow’s press day. I don’t have the energy to ‘be delightful on socials.’ I shouldn’t have dragged you over here. I guess just take a pic of me like this”—I flip him off with both hands and give a sarcastic open-mouthed grin—“and let’s call it.”
He gets to his feet, and when he leans forward, the partially unbuttoned shirt gaps open and I see more of his chest and I feel like some creeper ogling women on the subway.
Why does this shitbag have to be so cute? He could at least smell less delicious—that’d be helpful. But no. The complete wanker I thought I was going to put through the wringer is puttingmethrough the wringer, with his smooth voice and big pretty hands and a scent that makes me want to bite his neck.Hard.
“Where’s that sack of nonsense you had me purchase?” he asks.
I throw one arm over my eyes and flip a wave toward the bedroom. “Chair in the corner. Why?”
I hear him walk off, then the bag crinkling as he brings it back. It thumps down and he rifles through it, setting items onto the coffee table. “Plenty of possibility here,” he says in a thinking way. “I don’t suppose you can actually tap-dance?”
I blow a raspberry. “Yeah, no. I’m a fucking great dancer, but not with anything formal. I just like dancing in clubs.”
More crinkling. Then, almost under his breath, “I’d like to see that.”
I uncover my eyes. “What, me dancing?”
“Indeed.” He takes one of the shiny black tap shoes from the box and holds it up. “Let’s start with this.”
“I already said I don’t know how.”
He takes his phone from the inside pocket of his suit jacket. “YouTube. There’s a tutorial for everything. People would find it charming. Watching someone who’s enormously skilled in one field show a relatable lack of skill in another is funny. You’d be sure to get plenty of views. Shall we?”
I sit up slowly, trying to look casual. “You think I’menormously skilled? Like, as a driver?”
