Page 59 of Work It Out
Samuel frowned. “That’s disgusting.”
That had everyone laughing.
“It’s 10:04,” Samuel announced, his not-so-subtle way of calling them to order. Rayah took advantage of the ensuing silence and launched into a summary of the month’s numbers and upcoming scheduling concerns. When that was done, she turned to Grace. Today’s snark tank proclaimed that if her mouth didn’t say it, her facedefinitelywould. “Please tell me we’re all set up for the Hunt tomorrow.”
“The website Jared built isn’t getting tons of hits, but it’s more than we expected,” Grace said. “Samuel and Vicky are doing great with the social media, especially the retiree snowbirds on Facebook. They went nuts when they posted pics of the pretty boys without their shirts.” She tossed her pen onto the table and sat back in her chair. “Horny old pervs. Let’s hope they’re horny enough to show up and spend some money.”
Beside Rayah, Blaine squirmed, and she wanted to laugh. He hated being lumped in with Nate as the man meat.
The meeting was nearly over when Jake strode back into the kitchen and directly to Rayah’s side. One hand rubbed slow circles over the center of her back as he leaned down to kiss the top of her head. “Sorry for stealing your goodies, cupcake. In my defense, the promise of all that sweetness made me a little crazy.”
Rayah’s face flamed. How did he make everything sound so dirty?
Nate and Jared laughed. Grace rolled her eyes. Blaine snorted.
No help. They were no freaking help.
Pierce balled up a napkin and launched it at Jake. “Stop being nasty. And you got one bite before I wrestled it away from you. It crumbled to mush. Waste of a damn good scone.”
“Don’t blame me. You’re the one who tried to confiscate it.” Jake straightened, but his hand remained on her back.
Grace checked her watch. “If we’re done, I need to make a few calls before my next client.”
“We’re done.” Rayah hopped off the stool. “Great job, everyone.”
Her thoughts shifted to things she had to accomplish that afternoon. A couple of shipments needed to be reconciled and—
“We’re going shopping in Flagstaff,” Vicky announced as she stepped in front of Rayah, grabbed her hand, and started for the door.
Or tried to. Rayah might be vertically challenged, but she was hard to budge when she put her mind to it. “Why would we do that?” She’d rather be strung up by her thumbs than go shopping.
“It’s lottery night,” the girl replied, as if that explained everything. When Rayah continued staring at her, Vicky bit her thumb. “Okay, I kind of went through your closet this morning after you left. I had a feeling it’d be nothing but sportswear, and you can’t wear sportswear to the love lotto. In my defense, I was totally right.”
No. So much no, but first, “The love lotto?”
“You know, the legend. Every year someone falls in love,” Vicky reminded her. “No reason it can’t be one of us! Unless you insist on wearing leggings and a sports bra.” Jake opened his mouth, no doubt to comment on how she looked in leggings and a sports bra, but Vicky shushed him. “Lust isn’t love, and your opinion is not required.” She stuck her tongue out at Jake, then beamed a smile that lit up the room.
Rayah’s heart lurched. Sometimes she forgot how young Vicky was. Jake had said that, since her arrival, Vicky had been a shadow of herself. In moments like this, she understood what he meant. Rayah had a million and one things to do tonight, but squashing that megawatt smile wasn’t one of them. It’d be like beating a unicorn to death with a kitten—the sole province of monsters and fiends.
Still… “I own other clothes.” Not much else, but she did have a dress and a couple pairs of jeans somewhere.
“If you honestly believe that, you and I do not share the same definition of the word ‘clothes.’”
Rayah sighed to keep from growling. “Fine. What time do you want to leave?”
“Uh, now,” Vicky said, heavy on the silentduh. “I’m good, but I’m not magic. Though I would seriously love to play a witch. That’d be the coolest role.”
Rayah checked the time. “The lottery doesn’t start for six hours.”
“Crap. Is it that late?” Vicky slapped Rayah’s ass. Hard. “Shake it like it’s hot, sister! We got to go.”
Rayah rubbed her stinging cheek. “They’re clothes. How long could we possibly need?”
Shaking her head, Vicky turned to Samuel. “What’ve you people let her become?”
Samuel looked from Vicky to Rayah and back again. “I didn’t— She isn’t— What?”
Jake laughed and thumped Samuel on the shoulder. “Don’t sweat it. She has that effect on people.” His eyes sparkled when he turned to Rayah. “It’s no use fighting her when it comes to a good ol’ fashioned makeover. She’s as stubborn about makeup and shit as you are about cheeseburgers.” He turned to Samuel with a tentative kind of rapture on his face. “Do they still serve burgers and hot dogs at the lottery? Please, man, please tell me they have cheeseburgers.”
