Page 23 of Playing Dirty
"Of course she did." I laugh, shaking my head. "Let her know I'll have a case sent over. I'll mention setting one aside to Margot."
"That’s the sommelier from the launch campaign photos, then?” she asks. “My goodness, she issoooopretty. Such a striking face, I couldn’t look at anything else!”
That’s putting it mildly.
"I guess," I say, trying for a tone that suggests I haven't noticed.
Fiadh smirks. "Oh, youguess, do you?"
"That's what I said."
"Mm." She crunches into a biscuit, her eyes narrowed with suspicion. "You're usually an open book about women.Love 'em and leave 'emhas always been your MO, but I've never seen you get tight-lipped about a girl before. Which means this one's different."
"You're imagining things."
Fiadh leans in, her gaze sharpening as she studies me through the screen. "So tell me, is she nice? This Margot?"
In the handful of meetings I've survived this week, Margot appears to be the kindest person in existence, well, to everyone but me.
I watched her coordinate a meal delivery schedule for a woman who's about to go on maternity leave while we were waiting for a briefing to start. Later, she shut down a cluster of marketing sharks who were talking over a nervous new hire, and she showed up to another meeting with a mountain of donuts when the whole room looked ready to cave from exhaustion.
She's a damn saint, all while being ridiculously sexy and clever as hell, and it’s doing absolutely fuck-all for my growing obsession with her.
"Aye, she's grand, but I think she's not a fan of me," I admit, swirling my beer. "Besides, even if Ihadnoticed how gorgeous she is, the woman has a strict 'no athletes' policy."
"Lord, I love her already," Fiadh laughs. "Must be doing wonders for your ego, Cillian. Finally met a girl who isn't impressed by the dimples or the whole hockey-star thing, have you?"
"Shouldn't you be trying for another hour of sleep, Fee?"
"Fine, fine. I'll leave you to your pining.For now." She points afinger toward the screen, her expression softening. "Talk soon, you big dope. Love you."
"Love you too."
I hang up and the apartment goes quiet around me. The television has moved on from Brennan, cycling through other interviews, and I watch the time drag with a hollow sort of focus. My phone buzzes on the cushion, but it isn't the name I was hoping for.
It's Kayla, a girl I've slept with a handful of times over the last year or so. She reaches out when she's bored and looking for a distraction, and I'm usually happy to provide it. Last I heard she was tied up with some finance guy, so it's been months since we last crossed paths.
Kayla:Still awake? Thinking about you. And that thing you do with your tongue… Single again, by the way. Come over.
Beneath the message is a photo of her in bed, on her back, thighs spread wide. Her bra is shoved down, exposing her tits, and she has two fingers buried deep between her legs, panties yanked to the side and her mouth open in a silent moan.
A few weeks ago I'd have already had my keys in hand and been halfway to the car. She is gorgeous, uncomplicated, and exactly the kind ofno stringsdistraction that I thrive on.
But I just toss the phone onto the cushion. I'll type out some polite brush-off later, because tonight I don't feel so much as a flicker of temptation. The only name I'm actually desperate to see on that screen isn't hers, and nothing Kayla’s offering is going to be enough.
6
Margot
"Do you have a minute?" Carol asks, walking briskly down the expansive stone corridor that leads toward the staff wing. I have to practically scurry to maintain her pace, clutching my notebook to my chest.
"Is this about the Marchettis?" I ask, a knot of anxiety tightening in my stomach as I walk. "Because I have a call with their wedding planner at eleven, and I've prepared a very diplomatic answer for why wecannotrelease doves indoors."
"It's not about the doves." She waves a dismissive hand, then pauses, glancing over her shoulder. "Although do hold your ground on that. But, brace yourself, because I have wonderful news."
I feel a momentary surge of relief about the avian situation, though "wonderful news" from Carol is a phrase that usually precedes a significant increase in my heart rate.
"I'm braced," I say.
