Читать книгу The Nemesis Affair - Erin McCarthy, Erin McCarthy - Страница 6

Chapter Two

Samantha ogled her phone screen. “Shut the door, Trina. Figuratively of course. Liam just sent me a picture. Is this real? This can’t be real.” She hoped it was real.

“Why, is he like a troll or something?”

“No.” Sam dodged a garbage can as they walked to the deli down the street from Katrina’s apartment. Trina’s boyfriend, Drew, was bartending that night so it was Sam’s job as the single best friend to keep her company until Drew got off work at eleven. At which time she was expected to make herself scarce so the happy couple could get naked. Samantha would then go home to her windowless apartment solo, most likely mildly buzzed, and fall asleep watching Game of Thrones. It was a glamorous life, what could she say?

A life which had suddenly gotten way more interesting since she’d embarked on her new career as Professional Nemesis a few hours earlier. It was unlikely it would be a sustainable career path but it beat the hell out of asking her mom for money and it was proving to be fairly entertaining. Liam seemed to get her teasing and jokes, but he wasn’t taking the bait. She figured it was only a matter of time before he realized she was übercharming and utterly adorable. Though he had said he was straight, so how adorable he would find her thinking she was a man, she couldn’t say. But something about the freedom of texting a total stranger at random with no necessity to impress him was amazing and liberating.

Not only did she not have to impress him she could be as bossy and flippant as she wanted. It was awesome.

And if this picture was real, Liam was a sweaty, muscular mountain of manliness she wanted to climb.

Damn. “He’s hot. I mean, I can’t really see his face, but what I can see is all hard and yummy.” She tilted her phone for Katrina to see it. “Rugby. Men legally shoving each other in pursuit of balls. I love it.”

Katrina laughed. “So now you’re a rugby fan? Please.” She took the phone and studied the picture. “This is one masculine man, I agree. But this is a professional picture, you know. I bet it’s lifted from a social media site. It’s probably not even him.”

Well, that would spoil all the fun. “Really? You think so?” Katrina was a social media expert, so if anyone would know if something was sketchy, it was her.

“Let’s do a reverse image search and find its origin.” Katrina tapped and swiped. “It’s a picture from the website of the Brooklyn Rugby Club.”

That was deflating. “So it’s probably not him, is it? Shit. I really like the idea of bossing around a hot guy.”

“It might be him, but it could be a classic catfish case.” Katrina handed her the phone back. “Make him send you a time-stamped selfie to prove it’s him. You know, him holding today’s Wall Street Journal.”

“It’s a tangled web of deception we live in these days, isn’t it?” she said, texting Liam, calling him out on the photo being from the rugby website. “And who knew there is a Brooklyn rugby team, by the way? Because I didn’t. Why don’t we go to those games?”

“Um, because we have better things to do?”

“I don’t.” She meant that most sincerely. “I’m unemployed, remember?”

“And by the way, I don’t think you can be butthurt about being catfished when you told him you’re a man.”

Huh. Good point. “That’s not the same thing.” Never admitting she was wrong was another one of her thoroughly unmarketable talents. “I never actually lied and said I was a man. I just implied I was.”

Katrina pulled the door to the deli open. “True. And you said you didn’t want to meet him. But now that there is an albeit remote possibility, but possibility nonetheless, that he is this foxy rugby player, you totally want to meet him, don’t you?”

Busted. “If that remote possibility proves to be reality, then yes, I won’t lie, I do want to meet him.” She stepped into the deli. “Despite my omission of truth, I am a woman, and I find his physical type hot, I can’t deny it. But, I can’t meet him. For multiple reasons, not the least of which is that even if he were to forgive me for failing to mention my gender, he is precisely the type of guy I should be avoiding. I don’t need a competitive man in my life.”

Pulling her knit hat off her head, Katrina stuffed it into her hobo bag. “You’re nuts, and I regret my suggestion for you to search Craigslist for a job. You obviously can’t handle it.”

“Hey!” She laughed. “I can handle Craigslist.” Glancing up at the menu she added, “What I can’t handle is all this meat. OMG, I thought being vegan was in these days. Look at the size of those corned beef sandwiches, holy crap. I’ve seen smaller smart cars.”

“We need a base in our stomachs before we go out and drink cheap wine at the bar.”

“I can’t afford cheap wine. I’m down to like my last ten bucks, I swear.”

“I’ll spot you.”

“No, because I have no idea when I’ll be able to repay you.” Unlike her student loans from college, she didn’t want to defer paying Katrina back indefinitely, so it was better not to get in debt to her friend.

“Think of it as a congrats for getting this nemesis deal.”

After ordering a corned beef sandwich the size of her head, Samantha was debating how much energy she had to continue to argue with Katrina when her phone buzzed.

It was a picture from Liam. He was wearing a smirk on his face, and have mercy, he was shirtless. In front of his very studly chest, he was holding up the newspaper. Pinching it to make it bigger Samantha checked the date. Yep. Today. Then he sent another pic with a sign that he’d written on. It said Jealous? There was an arrow pointing to his six-pack abs.

Six-pack abs that were sort of oily and sweaty and looked very lickable. His arms were muscular, strong. Capable of throwing a rugby ball, knocking over the competition and lifting one petite Jewish girl with red glasses above his waist while he pumped hard into her...

“I need that cheap wine, after all,” she told Katrina. “Fuck me, Liam is hotter than my apartment in August.”

Suddenly her Friday night didn’t look so sad and lonely after all. She could send sexually ambiguous texts to a man so hot the fire department should be hosing his ass off. Silently, eyebrows raised, Katrina held her hand out.

When her friend studied the photos, her mouth dropped. “I stand corrected. It appears he is actually the dude on the rugby team website. Which is admittedly very cool. But now I’m just confused as to why a hot guy needs someone to verbally kick his ass. Doesn’t he have coaches and whatnot to do that?”

“I have no idea, but I’m not about to complain.”

Truthfully, Liam was not pretty or handsome in the classic sense. His features were too imperfect for that. But he had a sparkle in his eye and an aura of such pure masculine mojo that she basically wanted to drop her panties for him. And she hadn’t even met him in person. Imagine what would happen if that occurred. It boggled the mind. Pushy, aggressive, dominating, bossy, hot sex, that’s what would happen.

Sitting down, she crammed her mouth full of meat. “I think going all this time without dating was a mistake. Or at least, I should have created a reliable booty call because suddenly the lack of sex in my life feels like a crisis.”

“The guy is pointing to his penis,” Katrina said, sounding sympathetic. “You’d hardly be human if that didn’t affect you on some level. He is your type, too. But remember that is precisely the type of guy you’re trying to avoid.”

“I know, I know.” Grumble. “I can’t go back on that one. Dating competitive and aggressive guys just left me as a perpetual wet noodle. It’s not a good look.” Pushing her glasses up, she allowed herself a sigh. “The whole point of taking on this weird sort of job is not just to make some extra cash but to learn to be more assertive. When I was with Ben, I basically became whatever he wanted that day. I don’t know why I do that, and I am determined not to repeat it.”

“So don’t meet Liam. Simple.”

“He wants to meet next week to work out payment options. I also think he wants to screen me.”

“Instead of meeting him, why don’t you just Skype? Come clean about being a woman after he’s seen how awesome at giving him shit you can be. Then suggest an online chat or phone call.”

That might work. It would mean she would have to admit that she was very much female, but if she wowed Liam in the meantime maybe he wouldn’t care. Either way, she could probably only hide her gender for a few more days before he caught on. “That is probably wise.”

She thought about what to text in response as she took another huge bite of her sandwich.

Then she typed. Not jealous. Confused.

Confused about what?

Why you want a random stranger to boss you around when you have coaches and teammates.

I’m retired. Don’t want to lose my edge.

“He’s retired,” she reported to Katrina.

“Good to know.” Katrina sipped her iced tea. “Are you going to be texting with your nemesis all night? Because it’s leaving me staring at my roast beef with no one to talk to.”

Oh, please. That was rich. “You’re on your phone all day. You can’t go five minutes without sending a kissy emoji to Drew. It’s an addiction we all share.” It was a smartphone thing. She couldn’t help it. But Trina was right. They were hanging out together so she vowed to send one last message and put the phone away for a few hours. “But I concede your point. One last text.”

“That’s fair. And I promise not to send any kissy texts to Drew for the next two hours.” Katrina bit her sandwich and chewed. “Best thing about him working, besides the fact that I get to hang out with you? I can eat grilled onions on my patty melt and don’t have to worry about dragon breath. It will have time to recede, like an onion tide, before he’s off work.”

So not the Trina of a few months ago. It seemed the honeymoon phase of their relationship was over and her best friend was feeling quite content with her man. Sam wanted to laugh, but resisted the urge.

“The wine will overtake it,” she reassured Katrina. “Best thing about being single is I don’t have to worry about that ever. Or waxing.” There were other benefits as well, like total freedom and time to reflect on who she was and what she wanted. The suck-ass part? She was lonely. She could admit it. Yes, she missed sex but she also missed just touching someone. An affectionate hand on her back, the right to touch a man’s chest. She missed those little things, and at almost twenty-five she wasn’t really interested in going out to a club and hooking up with some random guy.

That didn’t prevent her from drooling over Liam’s bare chest, though. Look, but don’t touch. Nothing wrong with that. Staring at his picture again, she composed her final text before dropping her phone back into her purse.

I’m an advocate of taking the edge off.

It was a little flirty. But she couldn’t help it. It seemed so harmless.

But it nearly killed her to ignore her phone for the next ninety minutes as agreed upon.

When she and Katrina were done eating and had walked to the bar where Drew worked, she gave in to her compulsion and checked her phone when Trina went to the restroom.

I’m not sure what you mean.

Oh, he knew exactly what she meant. But he was trying to keep it professional. Damn it. He texted again.

Since I’m done with my run, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Thanks.

He clearly didn’t need or want a flirt buddy the way she apparently did.

Roger.

Samantha saluted her phone. It felt necessary.

She looked at the shirtless picture of Liam again and resisted the urge to send another text, poking further. Instead, she just saved the picture to her camera roll so she could look at it frequently and repeatedly.

And this was her Friday night.

Wow. She really needed to get a life.

* * *

“I’m uncomfortable with all of this.” Liam tipped back his glass and took down a third of his Guinness. “Taking this ad out was a fucking mistake.”

“You’re getting drunk,” Travis told him with an amused look. “Your accent is so thick right now I need an interpreter to understand you.”

“Fuck you.” That’s how he felt. Fuck you. Just fuck the fuck out of all of it. “Maybe I’m drunk, but that doesn’t change the fact that I never should have listened to you. I should have just signed up for a decathlon, not put a bloody ad out on Craigslist. I’m not comfortable texting someone I’ve never met, but pushing this guy to meet me feels like I’m asking for a date.” It was all just not him. He couldn’t do it. “I’m going to fire him.”

“You just hired him like five minutes ago.” Travis shook his head and reached for his own beer.

They were in a pub they frequented around the corner from their apartment. It was unusual for Liam to have more than one or two beers but on last count, he’d gotten up to four tonight. He couldn’t shake the vibe of being put off by texting with someone who could be a convicted felon or a con artist looking to steal his identity or something. “I want to ask him to send me a picture of himself, but that sounds like flirting, doesn’t it?”

Travis nodded. “Yes. Yes, it does.” A day trader, Travis was still wearing his work clothes, and with his expensive taste in business wear and his dark good looks, every woman in the bar was checking him out. Liam had a feeling his buddy was going to go home with a few phone numbers whereas he was just going to go home with a massive bar tab.

“So what do I do?”

“Nothing. Just let him give you shit about slacking off on your workouts. That’s all he’s supposed to do, right? He’s a nonperson. Just an app with free will.”

Travis had a point, but it didn’t sit well with Liam. “That’s not how I am. I just can’t be impersonal with a person.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and put it on the bar top. The pub was dark and murky, atmospherically intending to emulate dives back in the UK and Ireland, but it felt too upscale to really remind Liam of Kinsale. Maybe Dublin. But definitely not like home.

Are you in shape?

Okay, that sounded even worse than asking for a picture. God, he was bloody bad at all this nonsense.

I only run if someone is chasing me.

Liam looked at Travis. He looked at his phone. “I’m in this far, I might as well make a complete and total ass out of myself.”

“What are you going to do?” Travis adjusted his tie. “Please don’t embarrass yourself. That will embarrass me.”

But Liam figured he had nothing to lose. If the whole reason behind a nemesis was to prove he was manly, then fuck it. What did he care what some random stranger thought? Balls. He was reclaiming his.

Let me see what you look like.

That might not be a good idea.

It doesn’t matter. I just want to put a face to the guy giving me a hard time. No big deal.

It shouldn’t matter, but it did. But something was off and Liam wanted to know what the hell it was.

Okay.

A picture of a woman popped up in the text box. A very cute woman with dark brown curly hair and glasses. She looked like a librarian or a writer. A kindergarten teacher. A cupcake baker.

“What the fuck?” He turned the phone to Travis. “This is Sam, apparently.”

“Sam is a girl.”

“It would seem so.” Liam was gobsmacked. But...not surprised. In retrospect, Sam sounded female. Feminine. Flirty. All the f words. “No wonder I was feeling squirrelly. I knew something was off.”

“She’s cute. Doesn’t look like a ballbuster, but she is cute. If that’s who she really is.”

Liam frowned, taking his phone back and studying the picture again. She was cute. Midtwenties. Adorable smile with dimples. She was wearing a floral sweater that his mum might fancy, though he’d never found himself gazing at his mother’s chest. With Sam, yep, he looked, noticing there was a perfect tight pull across a lovely set of breasts. She was nerdy and sexy all at the same time. “You think she or he lifted a random picture? This is why I don’t like this stuff. I have no idea who I’m actually contacting. It’s weird.”

I thought you were a guy, he texted.

Nope. Sam is for Samantha.

How do I know it’s really you?

If it was really her, what was he going to do? “Man, I don’t think I can do this if this is what she looks like.”

“Why?” Travis asked. “She’s not your type. She doesn’t look like someone you’d want to date or anything.”

What did Travis know about his type? He didn’t have a type. But if he did, why wouldn’t it be adorable girls with glasses? “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I see you with a guy’s girl. The chick who can go to the gym with you and who wears a lot of spandex. This girl probably has a bearded boyfriend who wears a beanie and skinny jeans.”

“I could wear skinny jeans,” he said, because he was drunk and feeling contrary. Then he looked at Travis, whose jaw dropped, and they both burst out laughing. “Okay, so that is a false statement. I’d look like a complete idiot in skinny jeans.”

“You’d look like a twenty-pound sausage in a five-pound casing. Some things just can’t ever happen and that’s one of them.”

“I don’t want to wear skinny jeans. I just am wondering why you think I can’t attract the interest of a girl like this.” It offended him, he had to admit. Plus he was attracted to the mysterious Sam, for whatever reason. It was partially her smile and overall appearance, partly her sassy attitude with him.

“Man, you’re a fucking mess tonight,” Travis told him. “I am so sorry I suggested any of this. Next time I’ll just let you punch your boss and get fired.”

Whatever. A text came from Sam. It was her, smiling and pointing to the TV screen behind her. When he enlarged it, he saw it was a Yankees game, the score flashing across the bottom. Glancing up, he looked at the screens displayed over the bartender. Yankees. Playing the Toronto Blue Jays. The score and even the ticker with a news story underneath was the same. It was clearly a live shot. “I think this is really her.” He showed everything to Travis.

“It would appear so. Huh. Not what I pictured a nemesis looking like but maybe she’ll smack you with a ruler if you don’t toe the line. It could be fun.”