“Against the wall over there?”

“In bed, you dumbass. Not everyone is a sexual deviant like you. Cole is not fucking whores on his desk at lunch.”

“OK,” I say, giving in. “You know him better than me, so I’m gonna take your word for that. Let’s move on. So when you get back to Cole’s place, after he takes you to lunch at his desk, what do you do? How will you seduce him?”

“Won’t he seduce me?”

“OK, Tiffy you’re losing me, babe. Do you want this guy or not?”

“I do,” she whines. “But why do I have to initiate things? I thought you could make him initiate things with me. Can’t you? And can I please put my dress back on?”

“So you want to take the passive approach? And why put the dress back on? I’ll just have to take it off again when I fuck you after this conversation.”

“What?” And then she bursts out laughing. But my even stare makes her stop abruptly. “We’re not fucking again.”

“We are. We’re naked. We’re talking about sex. And we’re horny. So we are most definitely fucking. I just wanted to get to know you better this time. So I know what to try next.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m trying to figure you out, Tiffy. So I know how to make you feel good about yourself. And now that I know you like to be guided, well…” I kiss her mouth again. I hold her chin in my fingers as my tongue sweeps inside her, and when I pull away, ever so slowly, she sighs. “I’ll tell you how I like it so you know what to do back. I’ll do things without asking you, so you don’t have to make decisions. And I’ll make sure you have the best sex of your life every time you’re with me.”

“Do you fuck them all?” she spits as she pushes my chest back and sends me stumbling. “Is that what this matchmaking business is all about?” She grabs her dress off the floor and before I can even say another word, she’s got it pulled over her head and she’s hunting for her shoes.

“Tiffy? What the hell?”

“This is a mistake. You’re just trying to sleep with me. And I fell for it! Oh my God, you are such an asshole. I came in here to fire you—”

“And we made a deal, remember? I’m just trying to help you with your deal.”

“By fucking me? No.”

“OK,” I say, pulling my jeans back on and zipping them up. “OK. We don’t have to fuck. And the answer to that last question is no. I don’t fuck these girls. Not one of them.”

“So why me, Fletcher? Why me?”

“You picked me off the floor last night.”

“No, you chose me. How delusional are you?”

“You had your eye on me the whole time.”

“I’m your boss. I was there to discipline you. Of course I’m going to be watching you!”

“Well—” I’m speechless for a few seconds. And then the answer I need manifests. “Well, then I guess you’ve got moves, Miss Preston. Because your inner sexy was shining bright last night. I saw it from a mile away.”

“Player!” she squeals. “God, you are so full of bullshit moves, I cannot even believe it.”

“Tiffy,” I say, my hands up, palms out, like a hostage negotiator trying to reason with a terrorist. “We made a deal. I promise you, this is business. And if you need me to keep my hands to myself, then I will. Done deal. No fight about that from me. But we both need this, right? You want Cole and I want this job. So don’t walk away mad. Just meet me down in the lobby at noon tomorrow and we’ll start your first lesson.”

She huffs out a breath of air, shakes her head, turns away, turns back, and finally says, “OK. And you better make things right with Lisa and those girls you fucked over.”

A few seconds later she’s gone.

And I’m back to being the guy who fucks girls over just because they want me to fuck them.

Chapter Fourteen

 

I barely slept at all last night. I tossed and turned. Fretted and fussed. I am riddled with guilt. Why did I sleep with him? Why did I make this stupid deal? My poor father, if he finds out. And those girls. They will come back to haunt me, I’m sure of it. There is no way Fletcher Novak can make things right with them. No way.

I glance down at my watch. It’s ten past noon. He can’t even make things right with me, because he’s already fucking up.

Calm down, Tiffy.

I take a deep breath and search the lobby one more time. But nope, I don’t see him. So I grab my phone from my purse and dial Amy’s receptionist, Leslie.

“Landslide management,” she says in her professional voice.

“It’s Tiffy. Do you know where I might find Mr. Novak at this hour? He was supposed to meet me and he’s not picking up his phone.”

“Oh, yes, ma’am. He’s in rehearsals on Friday mornings. Until…” She hesitates. “Well, noon. Technically. But he’s missed a few from what I’ve heard. Maybe they’re staying late?”

“Where are rehearsals?”

“The North Tower basement. There’s a key pad to the studio at the end of the west hallway. Your ID should get you in.”

“Thanks,” I say with a cheerfulness I don’t feel.

I take a deep breath and head towards my tower and then take the elevator to the basement. There’s a security guard at the entrance to the gym, but he tips his hat at me and says, “Afternoon, Miss Preston,” as I pass by.

I find the west hallway, and it’s not difficult. I can hear the stripper music a mile away. Goddamn him. How dare he leave me waiting up there? I really need to put an end to this ridiculous deal.

I swipe my card and pull the door open as my anger builds.

And then I stop. Dead in my tracks.

Fletcher Novak is doing some sort of striptease to a girl tied to a pole in the middle of the room.

“Yeahhhhhhh,” Claudio yells. He’s bound to the next pole over.

“Claudio!” I yell over the music.

“Whooooooooo,” he screams again. His eyes are on that other guy. Presumably the gay one Claudio was referring to yesterday.

“Claudio!” I scream again, but the music cuts off halfway through my outburst, and it echoes in the silence.

Every head turns to me.

Six male strippers in various stages of undress. Claudio, who has an open mouth and wide eyes. He might even be blushing. And about fifteen girls, who I can only presume are groupies. Some of them have Landslide uniforms on.

“What the hell is going on here?”

“Tiffy,” Claudio says excitedly. “We’re stand-ins for the crowd for tomorrow night’s new act.” And then he does a not-so-subtle head tilt towards the stripper whose crotch is just inches from his face, and waggles his eyebrows.

“I’ll talk to you later.” I drag my gaze to Fletcher. “Why are you here when you’re supposed to be—”

“Tiffy,” he says, cutting me off. “Sorry, I got caught up in the heat of the moment and lost track of time.” He smiles sheepishly at me. “What time is it?”

“Twelve twenty-one,” I snap.

“OK.” And then he leans down to his captive’s neck and whispers something that makes her laugh.

I let out a long, aggravated sigh. “I’ll meet you—”

“No, no, no,” Fletcher says, jogging away from the girl tied to the pole in nothing but skimpy panties. “We’re done. I was just playing around with her. Come on, I gotta change and then we can go.”

He takes my hand and I don’t even bother trying to pull away, because he’s practically dragging me down a hallway.

“You can’t mention that I’m mentoring you, Tiff. It’s weird, ya know?”

Boy, do I ever. “About that—” And then I stop because he just ushered me into a men’s locker room. There are hot guys everywhere I look.

“Pay no attention to them, Tiff. I have a private dressing room back here.”

I blush my way past one, two, three, four, five, six naked men and one, two, three four half-naked men, and then let him swoop me behind a closed door.

Jesus. This job cannot be real.

Fletcher whistles and looks me up and down. “You look hot, princess. Like smoking.”