The Virgin and the Kingpin Read online

  Chapter Eleven

  Andrew stood on the sidewalk, near the buildings and out of the flow of traffic. On his left was the restaurant where Susan said they were meeting. People in their early twenties arrived in groups of two and three. How many friends did this master’s student friend of hers have? He didn’t know why he agreed to her request. Though, when she offered to get down on her knees, the assault of images jumbled his brain to the point of temporary insanity.

  A tiny part of him was willing to admit he didn’t like the idea of a rift between them. He couldn’t say why though, and that bothered him.

  On his other side, people arrived for what seemed to be a company holiday party. Conversations overlapped and blended in a disjointed symphony.

  “I heard some of the new people from ArorTech’s Chicago office will be here. Replacements, possibly”

  “I can’t wait for winter break, but the last-minute exams are killing me”

  “Open bar this year. For once. Only good thing to come out of this buy-out”

  “I’m going before the thesis board in February. There’s no way I’ll be ready”

  “I can’t believe we’re having the company party on a weeknight. Especially with so many of us who live in the valley”

  “Did you hear why Jodie picked Stanford over BYU?”

  “Everyone’s saying admin screwed up booking, but I hear they’re doing it on a Tuesday because Chicago wanted to be here, and they wouldn’t miss their corporate party for ours”

  The chatter faded into the background when Susan approached. He managed to tear his gaze from her to notice that her two friends were identical twins, blonde, and in designer clothing. He couldn’t look away from the smile Susan wore when she saw him, though.

  “I so sorry we’re late.” She and her friends joined him on the sidewalk. “This is Olivia, and Rissa.”

  He gave the women a nod, noting their hesitation and traces of discomfort when they looked him in the eye. When he spent too much time with people who knew him, he forgot how strangers reacted to the scar. Thankfully or otherwise, times like this reminded him.

  “And this is Andrew,” Susan said.

  Rissa’s attitude shifted in an instant. Knowing he was the guy with the wallet had that effect sometimes. “Andrew Newton?” She shook his hand. “I’ve heard so much about you.” She slid between him and Susan, and pressed close.

  He didn’t care what she’d heard that caused the change in attitude; he wasn’t interested. “Nice to meet you both.” He moved around her, to join Susan. “Should we head inside?” He ignored the huff from behind when he wrapped an arm around Susan’s waist and guided her to the door.

  The brush-off seemed to destroy Rissa’s interest.

  “Catch up with us later?” Olivia asked.

  Susan nodded, and her friends melted into the crowd.

  “Your friends seem... nice.” He tried to grasp a better word but couldn’t find one.

  “Olivia is amazing. My link to sanity. Rissa isn’t a friend. She does think I’m hilarious.”

  “Why is that?” Andrew regretted the question as soon as he saw Susan’s scowl.

  “Because what kind of repressed prude can’t even get a pity fuck by the time she’s twenty-one?”

  The venom and mocking in her voice surprised him as much as the language did. “I don’t understand,” he said.

  She pursed her lips. “It’s not like I’ve taken myself off the market. The opportunity hasn’t presented itself.”

  “I didn’t mean you. Your reasons are your own. No judgment. I don’t understand her. Why does she care if or when anyone else is fucking? It’s not like getting laid is a contest.”

  “It is, in some videos.” Her irritation melted into a shy smile.

  “You got me there. Take it from someone who knows—you don’t want real life to be a reflection of porn.”

  Her smile grew, and any follow-up evaporated. He had a growing list of things that made her genuinely happy.

  “Come on.” She looped her arm through his. “I’ll introduce you to some of the gang.”

  He moved with her from one group to the next, meeting people and hearing more names than he could ever possibly remember. He ran out of obnoxious nicknames after the first four packs. With each new cluster of people, the amusement and gleam in Susan’s eyes faded a little more, and her smile resembled a painted-on disguise.

  The longer they mingled, the more it sank in—she wasn’t afraid of performing; she’d been doing it so long under someone else’s definition that she didn’t enjoy it. Her smile stayed intact. She shook hands and exchanged hugs and made all the right small talk. But her smile stopped reaching her eyes, and her voice was missing the lilt it got when she was excited.

  She didn’t need help overcoming deep-rooted stage fright. She needed to learn how to put on a show for herself, and not for whoever she thought might or might not be watching. And God damn, if the notion of a private show for her pleasure didn’t fill his head with all sorts of vivid voyeuristic fantasies.

  “Jodie.” Susan’s exclamation jarred Andrew back to the now. She tugged him toward a woman near the far end of the restaurant. “So excited for you.”

  “Thanks.” Jodie was beaming, and as he and Susan approached, she gave them her full attention. “Who’s your date?”

  Andrew shook her hand. “Resident boy toy.”

  “He’s not,” Susan said quickly. “He’s just a friend. This is Andrew.”

  Jodie raised her brows. “Okay...”

  “She’s being modest. Doesn’t tell her boy toy much, though, so I want to hear it from you. What are you pursuing at Stanford?” Andrew kept his tone light and teasing.

  Jodie’s pleased expression grew, her eyes lighting up. “This is the next step on my way to medical school. There’s an advisor at Stanford who’s published several papers on prosthetics and transplants, and I get to work with him.”

  “Tell him what kind.” Susan had that impish look that said she knew the punchline.

  “Penile.”

  Andrew was tempted to take the bait, but not if she expected it. Besides, the joke was too obvious. “I’ve read about that. They’re hoping to initially use the science to help vets who lost vital parts in combat, and in the future possibly extend the use to the trans community and other people who can benefit.”

  “Exactly,” Jodie said. “So many people giggle and smirk when I tell them I’m studying penises, but there’s a real call for the research.”

  Susan looked at Andrew, mouth twisted.

  “What?” he asked.

  “You’re not going to ask her to hook up some of your actors?”

  He didn’t know if he was pleased or disappointed she had him pegged so completely. “First of all—my actors know how to use their assets regardless of size. And second—would it make you feel better if I did?”

  “It might. Then I’d know you were you, and not some... I don’t know... not-evil twin you never mentioned.” Susan’s tone was playful. At ease.

  He liked this side of her. “The word you’re looking for is good, and I’m the best there is.”

  “You two are hilarious together.” Jodie laughed.

  Andrew reached into his wallet and pulled out a business card. “Back to the more serious, just for a minute. I have a friend, Ginny—a dancer—who’s starting her residency soon. She’s studying in the same field and knows people in the southeast. If you ever want an introduction, drop me a line.”

  “Yeah. Right. Like you’ll remember meeting me in a year or two.” Despite Jodie’s sarcasm, she took the card.

  “I’m serious. And I don’t forget people. Especially Suzie-Q’s friends. Besides, this isn’t the kind of offer I extend to anyone.”

  “Thank you.” She slid the card into her handbag, next to her phone. “Speaking of dancers—do you know her, Susan?”

  “She’s not that kind of dancer,” Andrew said.

  Jodie frowned. “I don’t unde
rstand.”

  “Ginny takes a lot more clothing off when she’s working.”

  “And probably makes a lot more money doing it,” Susan added.

  Andrew winked. “Jealous?”

  “I may be. You’ll introduce me too, won’t you?” Despite the topic, Susan looked more at ease than he was used to. She was comfortable with Jodie, as compared to how she acted with the rest of the people here.

  “I’ll think about it.” He turned to Jodie again. “J-Doll, pleasure to meet you.”

  “Same.” Jodie said her goodbyes to both, and apologized for needing to give other guests her attention.

  It didn’t take long for Susan’s attention to drift toward the door.

  “Are you okay?” Andrew asked.

  “I need some air. If you don’t mind.”

  He remembered the wedding and finding her outside, enjoying the quiet after a few hours of socializing. “We can go, if you’re ready.” There was no point in pushing her to perform here. She was going to do what she thought her friends wanted, regardless of his prompting. He wasn’t in the mood for a battle of wills.

  They made their way to the sidewalk, where the traffic had calmed. “It’s not that I don’t like parties or people,” she said. “I adore Jodie and Olivia, but... I don’t know. I can’t explain it.”

  He could, and he liked that he understood. “You can only keep up the façade for so long?”

  “That’s a good way to put it. I can party all night if I don’t have to watch myself.”

  Inspiration struck. “Let’s go do that.”

  “Do...?”

  “Party in a place where no one has any expectations of you and you’ll never see any of them again.”

  “I— What?”

  He steered her toward the ArorTech gathering. “Let’s crash a party.”

  SICK TENSION SPILLED through Susan at the suggestion. She didn’t know how walking into a place they weren’t invited was supposed to help her relax. A no hovered on the tip of her tongue, and her brain begged her to pull away. Andrew wrapped his arm around her waist, and the fact that he didn’t let go of her for more than a few minutes at a time since she arrived helped beat back the apprehension.

  Remembering how mad she was at herself on Sunday, for telling him no, was the catalyst she needed, to join him inside. He strolled into the banquet hall without hesitation, smiling and nodding at the few heads that turned in his direction.

  A man in a sweater and slacks approached. “Hi. Can I help you?”

  They were screwed. So much for that idea. Anxiety coiled inside Susan, threatening to snap.

  “I hope so. I’m Andrew, from the Chicago office.” Andrew extended his hand. “This is Susan. She’s a corporate trainer. Our flight came in late, or we would have been on time.”

  “Right. Of course. I’m Matt with Human Resources.” He shook Andrew’s hand. “What department did you say you were with?”

  This wasn’t so bad. Could they get away with it?

  “This is awkward. I’m not supposed to say.” Andrew grimaced.

  What was he doing? He was going to pick now to fail to bullshit someone?

  “Right.” Matt’s voice dropped in volume, and he leaned in. “Most of them don’t know we let a lot of Art go recently. You’re replacing the director, aren’t you?”

  Andrew shrugged. “Your words, not mine.”

  “Of course. Go ahead and mingle. Dinner starts soon. It’s great to have you both here.”

  “What is this?” Susan whispered as soon as Matt was out of earshot.

  Andrew dipped his head toward hers, his voice low and his breath hot on her cheek. “According to what I overheard, it’s the ArorTech holiday party. They recently bought out a smaller company here.”

  “HealthLink. Dad’s firm brokered the new building deal.”

  “You already know as much as I do. Still want to do this?”

  Pretend she was from a place she’d only been once, worked for a company she knew the barest details about, and did a job she never held—being whoever she wanted, as long as it fell within those guidelines. It was a stupid, terrifying, fascinating idea. “I’m in.”

  She and Andrew wove through the pockets of people, building on each other’s stories as they went.

  “I started in photography, but I had grander aspirations,” Andrew told one couple who asked how he got into his line of work.

  Someone else wanted to get Susan’s input on the corporate training programs and what they should expect. She slid into a response without hesitation. “It’s always hard to say with a new satellite group. We have standardized materials, of course, but each office needs a unique approach. I did a class in Dallas, where I had them all dance to salsa music.”

  If she put the right kind of thought into her answers, she could keep them vague with mostly-truths, and people drew their own conclusions. It felt weird, making up stories. At the same time, she was more herself than she ever got to be at Dad’s office parties.

  “Are the two of you... you know?” Another colleague asked.

  “A thing?” Andrew filled in the blank.

  The man looked like he was anxious for a little bit of corporate gossip. “Well, yeah.”

  Andrew shook his head. “I find the moment that a woman makes friends with me, she becomes jealous, exacting, suspicious, and a damned nuisance. And I find the moment that I make friends with a woman, I become selfish and tyrannical. So here I am—a confirmed old bachelor and likely to remain so.”

  She might have been confused by the convoluted response, but the word-for-word recital from My Fair Lady and the fact Gossip-Guy seemed impressed were entertaining.

  Two hours later, when they finally said their goodbyes and headed outside, she was grinning like she hadn’t in ages. How could one evening of lies feel more natural than a night with a people who called her friend?

  Because despite her fake backstory, she never once had to lie about how she was feeling or mask over basic questions about her. The realization thrilled her.

  Chapter Twelve

  Susan whirled and laughed, and an unfamiliar pang echoed in Andrew. He couldn’t pull his gaze from her. She stopped, facing him, grin wide and eyes sparkling. “That was so much fun. I can’t believe... Anyway. Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “The idea. Bringing me along. I don’t know. Tonight.” She threw her arms around his neck in a big hug and pressed her warm body to his, chasing away the chill and drawing heat to the surface.

  Her tits against his chest. Her breath on his neck. The scent of vanilla and sugar that drilled into his senses.

  The hammer of her heart against his ribs—how could he feel that?

  Her laughter faded, and she pulled back to meet his gaze. Jesus, she had gorgeous eyes.

  He felt her skin against his palm before he realized he was cupping her cheek. When he dipped his head toward hers, her eyes grew wide, and then the lids fluttered closed. He kissed her, and a jolt sped through him, singeing his skin, burning his veins, and making him crave more.

  He needed to break away, but she parted her lips in a silent gasp, and he took the invitation, diving his tongue into her mouth to dance and explore.

  The way she molded to him chased away sensibility. He drew his hand to the back of her head, to grasp the short hair and hold her captive. She tasted like he expected—innocence and trouble, wrapped together. He didn’t want to fuck her; he wanted to strip her down a piece of clothing at a time, and take hours exploring her body and finding out what made her moan, scream, and whimper.

  Time to stop. He fumbled to find scant threads of reason and put more than a foot between him and her. He gave Susan a too-bright smile. “Oops.”

  Her cheerful expression faded into disappointment, before returning half-force. “Don’t worry. I won’t hold it against you.” Her voice was flat.

  “Appreciate it, Suzie-Q.” It took restraint to grin and act as if he didn’t care. It took more, to not
tug her back and continue kissing her. What the fuck was wrong with him? He was acting like a horny teenager. It was a kiss. Tempting. Delicious. Soft—

  “So... Yeah.” She fiddled with the button on her coat sleeve. “It never happened.”

  “We should go.”

  She stood in his path, unmoving. “Do you have someplace you need to be?”

  He did. He needed to get back to his hotel, jerk off until he was raw, and put this moment behind him. “No. My night is open.”

  “Can we stay here a little longer? No-expectations-I-promise. I don’t want to go home yet. Or you can drop me at Mercy’s if that’s better for you. I have a key.”

  The name and plea helped him hang on to reason. When he and Mercy were bumming around the world, she both loathed the idea of going home again, and missed it so much that it kept her up at night, sobbing with homesickness. He nodded toward the sidewalk. “Do you want to walk?”

  “Walking sounds good.” Susan fell into step beside him, hands jammed in her pockets and gaze cast at her feet.

  He mimicked her posture, not trusting his hands to be anywhere else. “What you did inside? Falling into the role and playing that part? That’s all you need to do on stage.” There. He brought the topic back to the only reason they were spending so much time together. Good job, me.

  “It’s not that easy.”

  “Why not?”

  She jerked her head back toward the restaurant. “Those people don’t know me.”

  “Neither do the people watching you on stage.”

  “Not all of them, but some do. Family will come to watch. If I’m good at it, eventually people will show up to see me dance.”

  “You’re not hearing me.” As someone walked past them from the opposite direction, Andrew drifted closer to her. He didn’t move away again when the sidewalk was clear. “They know your name. They don’t know you. They can’t say why you use the R&T photography room for practice. They don’t know how you take your coffee.”

  Her arm brushed his, and she stayed close. “That’s semantics.”

  “But it’s not.” This was the conversation he should have had with her on Sunday, instead of tucking his tail between his legs and running because he couldn’t get his libido under control. “Why didn’t you want to dance at The Gateway? I’m not judging. No accusation. I want to know.”