Hustler Page 10

  “Have a good day, Penelope.” I stand and tower over all three women. “It was a delight, ladies. Thank you for the grapes.” I adjust my shirt in the back of my shorts, turn Mumford and Sons back on and then part with a wink, leaving a confused Penelope behind me.

  The Red Room and Nick the Bartender will have no clue what’s waiting for them when I arrive.

  Chapter Ten

  **NELL**

  I should be nervous. It’s the first date I’ve been on in years. I should feel butterflies in my belly or have sweaty palms. There should be something indicating my excitement for this date, but instead, I feel… fine. No nerves, no giddy anticipation. I’m looking forward to going out because I know Nick’s a fun guy and I’ll have a good time, but as far as something romantic goes, I just hope it builds with time.

  Because I refuse to let whatever is churning in my stomach when Gavin is around wear me down. No way in hell. Especially after that pathetic display he put on in the park today. Yes, the guy’s built like a brick shithouse. Yes, he’s one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever laid eyes on. The problem is, he knows it. And if there’s one thing I hate more than anything, it’s a cocky, self-absorbed asshole. I’d dealt with enough of that bullshit with my dickhead of a boyfriend back in high school. I’d be damned if I allow myself to fall for it again.

  Nope. Nuh uh. No freaking way.

  “Dayum,” Page snaps her fingers from the doorway of the bathroom. “You look hot, babe!”

  I smile at her reflection in the mirror as I give my eyelashes one last swipe of mascara. “Thanks,” I say as I close the tube and spin around to face her.

  “The backless dress was definitely the way to go. Nick’s going to swallow his tongue when he sees you.”

  I give Page a wink as I make my way from the bathroom, toward the front door. Even though it’s a shallow win, I still feel like wearing this dress is a middle finger to Gavin. It’s my own little way of proving to myself that what he says doesn’t matter. I grab my clutch and spin around to face Page. “All right, I’m heading out. Lock the door after me, don’t answer it to strangers, don’t order any porn while I’m gone, keep all things metal out of the microwave. And for the love of God, try not to burn the house down.”

  “Yes, Mom,” she laughs, leaning in to place a kiss on my cheek. “Have fun, and I want all the juicy details when you get home! I’m even willing to stay up late.”

  “You got it.” I blow her another kiss and head out the door just as my Uber car pulls up. Nick had tried to talk me into letting him pick me up for the date, but I’m a modern girl, and these are modern times. I prefer meeting at the restaurant at the beginning of a potential relationship. It just keeps things from getting messy in case things don’t work out.

  “Shit, gorgeous,” Nick breathes twenty minutes later as I climb out of the car in front of the Red Room where he’d been waiting. “Just when I think you can’t get any more beautiful, you prove me wrong.”

  My cheeks heat just a bit under his praise. It’s nice to hear a man genuinely compliment me. Most men are easy to read, you can see the compliments come with ulterior motives, mainly, to get into the woman’s pants. But Nick doesn’t come across that way. The vibe I get every time we’re together is completely honest.

  “Thanks,” I reply, wrapping my hand through his offered elbow as he leads me into the Red Room. “You’re looking pretty good yourself.” I scan the room on the way to the hostess stand. Needless to say, I’ve never been here before. It’s fancy, upscale, and way above my pay grade. Call me crazy, but I just can’t bring myself to pay a hundred dollars for a meal when I could be sending that money to my folks to try and ease their burdens. Hell, I’m surprised Nick would shell out that kind of cash. After all, bartenders can’t possibly make more than waitresses, can they?

  Nick gives the petite blonde his name and offers up his signature polite smile, which, by the giddy expression on her face, she takes as her opening to flirt. It pisses me off. It isn’t jealousy, just plain old anger. Whatever happened to girl code, sisterhood, and all that Ya Ya traveling pants shit? I mean, by the way he’s holding onto my arm, it’s obvious we’re not here in a platonic sense.

  “Right this way, sir,” she coos in a low, husky voice before batting her eyelashes and giggling. Seriously, I’m contemplating doing the world a favor and just snatching the bitch bald right here and now, but as I look up at Nick as Hostess Bitch leads the way to our table, I see he’s not even paying attention to her.

  GAH! I scream internally. He’s such a fantastic guy! Why can’t I feel butterflies, damn it?!

  We take our seats, and I can’t help but sneer up at the hostess when Nick offers her a mumbled “thanks” without so much as making eye contact. Once she’s gone, I pick up my menu and tease, “Well, aren’t you fancy. This place is really nice, Nick.”

  He shrugs, his cheeks growing a little pink, only making him that much more attractive. A man with enough humility to blush is one of the sexiest things in the world. But still… no butterflies.

  Maybe something’s wrong with my stomach. That has to be the problem. Because no sane, logical woman on the planet wouldn’t want to climb this man like a tree.

  “I wanted to make sure you had a great time,” he offers almost bashfully. I might not feel butterflies, but I definitely swoon right then.

  “I’m pretty sure as long as I have you as my company, I’ll have a great time,” I answer honestly.

  Nick’s mouth opens to reply when a deep, masculine, shiver inducing voice cuts him off, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

  “Would you look at that? What a coincidence!”

  Nick’s eyes go wide as I turn slowly in my chair, heat filling my veins once I finally lay eyes on the stupid jerk-face that I can’t seem to get out of my head no matter how hard I try. “Coincidence my ass,” I seethe under my breath.

  “Uh… hey, man,” Nick offers politely if not a little uncomfortably. “I guess it’s true. Great minds think alike and all that,” he laughs awkwardly and I can’t blame him. Seeing someone like Gavin outside of the high roller suite is like a culture shock. The outside world of people like me and Nick should never cross paths with the outside world of people like Gavin Saint. It’s off-putting.

  “Hmph,” Gavin makes a strange choking noise in the back of his throat before drolly muttering, “For some reason, I highly doubt that’s the case.”

  “Hey,” I snap, suddenly feeling protective of Nick. Whether this night builds into anything more or not, the simple fact remains, I absolutely adore him. I won’t let anyone, even someone as rich as Gavin Saint, talk badly about the people I care about. “You’re the one that stopped by our table, not the other way around, so you can keep your smartass comments to yourself, and do everyone here a favor and move along.”

  From the corner of my eye I can see Nick fidgeting uncomfortably in his chair. The hostess, who’d been making googly eyes at Nick just moments ago is now glaring at me as though she takes my attitude toward Gavin personally. The bitch really needs to make up her mind.

  “Well, wouldn’t you know it,” Gavin waved sarcastically, pointing at the table directly next to us. “It looks like we’re sitting next to each other, too.”

  “Fuck my life,” I whisper to myself.

  “What was that?” Nick asks, leaning closer, concern written across his face.

  “Nothing,” I smile, hoping it doesn’t look as fake as it feels. I turn to Gavin, the smile immediately replaced with a sneer. “You can’t get her to put you somewhere else?” I hiss.

  “We’re quite full this evening,” Bitch-Face Hostess answers in a snooty tone, making my palm twitch.

  “See,” Gavin grins like the bastard he is. “All full. Looks like we’ll be having dinner together.”

  “Uh… um,” Nick stutters at the same time I declare, “No we aren’t!” a little too loudly. “We are having dinner together,” I say, waving my hand back and forth between me an
d Nick. “You are sitting at your own table having your own dinner, and leaving us alone.”

  “Um, am I missing something? Do you guys know each other outside of the hotel?” Poor Nick, I’ve never seen the guy look more confused.

  “No!” I shout at the same time Gavin responds, “Yes.”

  “We do not!” I hiss at him.

  “Oh, but I think we do,” he replies lasciviously. “There as that time in the storage closet—”

  “I got locked in!” I shout, cutting him off as I turn back to Nick and lie through my teeth. “I got locked in and Gavin helped me out. Forgot all about that,” I laugh, a bit manically. “Yep, I’m clumsy like that.”

  One of Nick’s blonde eyebrows cocks up as he studies my red face. I can feel the sweat beginning to bead along my forehead. Why is it that when you pray for a massive black hole to open up and swallow you, it never happens, but then you turn on the news and see that some poor soul drove his car into a sinkhole that opened up out of nowhere.

  It’s not fair, I tell you!

  “You all right, gorgeous?” Nick asks.

  “Fine!” I answer too brightly. “I’m fine. You want some wine? I think we should totally get some wine,” I ramble, grabbing the wine list off the table and scanning over it, like I have any idea what I’m looking at. Usually I just grab the bottle off the bottom shelf at the grocery store. You know, the one with a twist top that only costs five bucks.

  “Um, okaaaaay,” he answers with uncertainty. I can see it written all over his face, he thinks I’m off my rocker.

  “That’s a stunning dress, Miss Prescott,” Gavin says in a casual tone. When I turn my head to look at him, I notice his tone is deceiving. His eyes are pinned on my exposed back and I can practically see the fire dancing behind his nearly black gaze. It causes me to shiver. “It’s a rather daring choice.” He says the word daring in a way that I know means he’s cottoned on to the fact I wore it to spite him. “You wear it very well.”

  “Th-thanks,” I stutter before looking back to the wine list.

  Being the ever polite person he is, Nick tries to engage Gavin in small talk. “So, that was some game the other night. You’ve really got a gift, man. I envy you.”

  “It’s not a gift,” Gavin returns banally. “It takes serious concentration and skill.”

  I can’t help but to roll my eyes at Gavin’s cold demeanor towards my dinner companion. Nick catches the expression and one corner of his mouth tips up in a knowing grin and I find myself beginning to relax, the familiar companionship of having Nick with me has almost a soothing effect. We try our best to ignore the man sitting beside us, getting lost in our own conversation, and it’s going well. That is, until Gavin opens that goddamned mouth of his again.

  “You know, I’m surprised you didn’t mention your date this morning.”

  “This morning?” Nick asks in confusion.

  “Yes, we were having a picnic in the park.”

  I shoot Gavin a look that I wish would kill him dead on the spot before looking back at Nick. “I was having a picnic with Page and Davies. Gavin decided to crash it all on his own.” I look back at the bastard, “And I did tell you. As a matter of fact, I’m pretty sure you gave me wardrobe advice.” I spin back to Nick and smiled sweetly. “His vote was the one that tipped the scales in favor of the backless dress.”

  Nick laughs and reaches his hand out to Gavin. “Then I guess I should be thanking you. That dress is killer.”

  Gavin doesn’t return the handshake, simply looking down at Nick’s hand like it’s diseased. I take his silence as the perfect opportunity to get another shot in. “Yeah, don’t the gays have the best fashion sense?”

  A snicker bubbles up my throat at the sound of Gavin choking on the water he is drinking.

  Current score is…

  Nell: 1

  Ass-face: 0

  God, I love winning.

  That is, until the dickhead opens his mouth again. “Oh, Miss Prescott, I forgot to tell you, I love your taste in underwear.” The wine I’d just sipped suddenly goes flying across the table, right onto Nick’s shirt.

  “Oh, shit!” I shout, garnering unwanted attention from the people around us as I lean across the table and dab at the offending stain with my napkin. “I’m so sorry! I’ll pay for the dry cleaning.”

  Nick clears his throat awkwardly. “He’s seen your underwear?”

  “She looks fucking phenomenal in lace,” the bastard says. “And that thong…” he trails off with a moan, closing his eyes as he lifts his wine glass to his mouth and takes a sip.

  “I feel like I’m missing something pretty serious here,” Nick mutters.

  “Those damned uniform skirts,” I smile manically, still rubbing at the stain that seems to be growing larger. “Can’t bend over an inch without them showing everything.” I sit back in my chair and shoot Gavin a look that explains, in great detail, the way I’m planning to murder him. “Obviously, Mr. Saint lacks all gentlemanly decorum since he brought it up.”

  Nick pushes his chair back and stands. I have a sudden wave of panic that he’s bailing on our date, leaving with his feelings hurt and me alone with Gavin. “Excuse me for just a minute,” he smiles politely. “I’m just going to go put some water on… this,” he waves at the front of his ruined shirt.

  “Oh. Oh! Yeah, sure!” I answer, relieved he’s not bailing on me, although I know I’d deserve it. Once he’s gone, I turn to Gavin. “You’re Satan, you know that?” I hiss. “Fucking Satan!”

  “I’d say I just made your date more interesting, Miss Prescott.”

  Current score…

  Nell: 1

  Prince of Darkness: 1

  The fucker.

  ***

  Nick and I leave the restaurant an hour later. The meal was delicious—even though I’d never admit that to Page—and once Gavin left, the night had somehow managed to have been salvageable. We had a great time. That’s why, as we stand under the awning of the Red Room, Nick’s hands caressing my cheeks tenderly as he smiles down at me, I want to cry, because I feel nothing.

  Zip. Zilch. Nada.

  I hold my breath as his lips descend on mine, only releasing the warm gush of air when it becomes impossible. His lips are soft, his mouth tastes sweet, and as his tongue snakes in and tangles with mine, all I can think is that it’s a nice kiss.

  Nice.

  That’s it. There’s nothing spectacular about it, not for lack of trying on either of our parts. We both have the mechanics of kissing down pat. We tilt our heads in just the right way, apply just the right amount of pressure being mindful of our teeth. But there’s something missing, something that really, really matters when you’re kissing someone.

  And when Nick pulls back, it’s like a two-ton weight has been lifted off my chest, because if the look on his face is anything to go on, he felt it too. Or, I should say he didn’t feel it.

  “Uh, wow… that was…” he pulls both his lips between his teeth and rubs them back at forth, as if trying to find the right words. Finally, he finishes with, “really awful.” I can’t help but to burst into laughter.

  “Oh, God,” I croak past the hysterical laughs. “It was, wasn’t it?”

  He’s smiling now and I’m hit with a wave of relief that, despite our epic lack of chemistry, we can walk away from tonight as really good friends. “I mean, no offense or anything. You didn’t do anything wrong, it was just like…”

  “Kissing your sister?” I offer helpfully.

  He curls his lips and says, “More like kissing my grandma.”

  “Hey!” I shout, smacking him in the arm, playfully. “It wasn’t that bad.”

  “True,” he grins. “At least your dentures were in.”

  I lose it again, my sides aching as I bend to hold them. Once I have myself under control, I smile up at him. “Disastrous kiss aside, I had a great time with you tonight.”

  “Me too.”

  “I’d love to do it again. But, you know, pl
atonically. And maybe at a bowling alley or something.”

  “Sounds like a plan, gorgeous.” He opens his arms and I walk into them for a big bear hug, the kind I can only imagine a big brother would give. It’s nice, like a warm, soft blanket.

  “I ruined your shirt, didn’t I?” I mumble into his chest.

  “Oh yeah,” he laughs good-naturedly. “Ruined the hell out of it.”

  “Sorry.”

  “You know,” he starts once we’ve pulled apart, “I have to ask. What the hell is up with you and Saint?”

  “Ugh,” I groan, my head falling back dramatically. “The guy’s an epic douche-bag. I’m pretty sure he lives to make my life a living hell. I’m guessing he showed up tonight just to sabotage our date and fuck with me.”

  “You sure about that?” he asks, speculatively. “’Cause I gotta tell you, gorgeous. I’ve pulled shit like that before, and it wasn’t because I couldn’t stand the girl.”

  There is no way I was confirming his suspicions. “Well, either way, I can’t stand the guy. He’s playing games and I don’t want to have any part of that.”

  “I don’t know,” Nick smiles, rubbing his hands together in front of him like an evil genius. “Sometimes games can be a lot of fun.”

  I take a step back at the dangerous gleam in his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

  “You say he likes to fuck with you, right? Piss you off?”

  “Like it’s his purpose in life,” I respond dryly.

  “Then let’s fuck with him right back. He doesn’t know our kiss was borderline incestuous because he already left. For all he knows, I’ve taken you back to my place and am buried balls deep at this very moment.”

  I frown. “Thanks for the colorful imagery.”

  “Any time,” he waves me off and continues, “What I’m saying is, let’s keep the fact that there’s no spark between just the two of us. The more you flirt and the more I grab your ass and tits—”

  “Whoa! Who said anything about grabbing my ass and tits?”

  Nick rolls his eyes. “Pretend you’re doing it for your country,” he sighs in exasperation. “Anyway, the more I feel you up and shit like that, I’m pretty sure we can make his head explode. What do you think?”