Читать книгу Play with Me - Leslie Kelly - Страница 9

PITTSBURGH TO CHICAGO was a short, easy trip even on a bad day. Fortunately, aside from the fact that he was taking his first flight in a vehicle that didn’t look much bigger than his SUV, today was shaping up to be a very good one. And he wasn’t just thinking about the weather, which was cool, crisp and clear.

As they took off, Reese went over the situation again in his mind. One hour in the air—that was good. For a mere sixty minutes, he could trick his brain into believing he wasn’t really sitting inside an oversize tin can, hurtling across a couple of states.

After that, he faced a short taxi ride to the newest location of a brew-pub chain owned by a wealthy Chicago family, the Braddocks. They had recently agreed to offer Campbell’s Lager as a house beer in a couple of their bars. It was a foot in the door, and Reese hoped to grow the account and get them to expand their order to include every one of their establishments. So he couldn’t refuse when he got a call from old Mr. Braddock himself this morning, asking him to come to put in an appearance at tonight’s opening.

He wouldn’t have to stay long—just had to shake a few hands and say a few thank-yous. He should be in and out in under an hour.

And after that … what?

He had intended to hop a commercial flight back to Pittsburgh tonight. The trip had been too impromptu to fly that way this afternoon, but there was one regional jet leaving at 10:00 p.m. that he could undoubtedly find a seat on. If he wanted to.

But ever since he had walked across the tarmac toward the small private plane and seen the woman standing at the base of the steps, he hadn’t wanted to. Because one look at her and he’d been interested. One word and he’d been intrigued. And one brief conversation and he’d been utterly hooked.

It wasn’t just that she was beautiful. He knew better than to think beauty was ever more than a surface pleasantry. Besides, he was no chauvinist. He had four sisters, three of them unmarried and living at home, the fourth a divorced single mom. Since his brother was only in his early teens, Reese bore the full brunt of female judgment against his sex. The only other adult male in close proximity was Ralph, his black lab, who had lost his claim to maleness at the hands of a ruthless vet when he was just six months old. A female vet.

So, yeah, Reese knew better than to ever judge a woman solely on appearance.

Amanda Bauer’s amazing body, her thick reddish-brown hair that hung past her shoulders and her damn-near-perfect face might have stilled his heart for a moment or two. But her smile, her husky voice, the shininess of her green eyes and the snappy humor had brought about the full stop.

So what are you going to do about it?

He needed to decide. And he now had only about forty-five minutes in which to do it.

In any other situation—if they’d met at a business meeting or a local bar—he might not have considered it. He’d been living in a fishbowl for the past two years, with his every move analyzed and dissected by his family. Bringing a woman into the picture was just inviting the kind of microscopic commentary he did not want.

But this was totally different. His pilot was someone he’d never seen before and, after today, probably would never see again. The thought made him suddenly wonder about the ways in which they could spend that day.

Fortunately, thinking about all those things had distracted him from the whole terrifying takeoff business. They’d chatted while she’d prepared for flight, but since the minute the tires had started rolling down the runway, Reese’s throat had been too tight to push any words out.

He forced himself to swallow. “So, a full-time pilot, huh?” he asked, knowing the question was an inane one. But it was better than the silence that had fallen between them while she’d been occupied getting them up into the air.

It also beat looking out the window at either the ground, which was getting farther away by the minute, or the wing of the plane, which looked far too small to be the only thing keeping him from a twenty-thousand-foot crash back to mother earth.

He looked away.

“Yep.”

“Must be pretty interesting.”

“It beats being a kindergarten teacher, which was what my folks wanted me to do.”

He barked a laugh. Her. A kindergarten teacher. Right. In his mental list of other careers this woman could have, being a sedate, demure teacher wasn’t even in the top gajillion.

Actress. Seductive spy. Rock star. Designer. Sex goddess. Yeah, those he could see. But definitely not teacher.

She glanced back, one brow up, though her tiny smile told him she wasn’t truly offended. Reese sat in the first passenger seat on the opposite side of the cabin and their stares locked for just a moment before she faced forward again. “What? You think I couldn’t be a teacher?”

“Uh-uh.” He quickly held up a defensive hand. “Not that I don’t think you’re smart enough. You just don’t seem the type who’d like working with children.”

She did, however, seem the type to be fabulous at the physical act that led to children. Not that he was going to say that to a woman he’d known for less than an hour.

That’d take two, minimum.

“I’m good with kids, I’ll have you know,” she insisted. “My friends’ and cousins’ kids love me.”

He didn’t doubt it. “Because you bring them cool stuff from your travels and you fly an airplane?”

She shrugged, not denying it. Nor did she turn around, keeping her eyes on the sky ahead of her. Which was good. He much preferred his pilot to be on the lookout for any random high-flying helicopters or low-flying space shuttles.

“I’m not knocking it,” he said. “I’m the king of doling out loud toys to my sister’s kids. I know the gifts will drive her crazy long after I’m gone.”

She laughed, low and long, as if reminiscing at some personal memory. Amanda Bauer’s warm chuckle seemed to ride across the air inside the cabin and brush against him like a soft breeze on a summer day. He could almost feel it.

Reese shifted in his seat, trying to keep focused on small talk and chitchat. Not on how much he wanted to feel her laughter against his lips so he could inhale the very air she breathed.

“Believe it or not, I think I’d have been a hell of a good teacher.”

“Uh-huh. I can hear five-year-old Brittany coming home to tell Mommy she had a hell of a good time learning her ABCs that day.”

She still didn’t turn around. She didn’t have to. Her reaction was made plain by the casual lift of her right hand and the quick flash of her middle finger.

“Hey, both hands on the steering wheel, lady,” he said, his shoulders shaking in amusement. His sexy, private pilot had just flipped him off. Damn, he liked this woman. He took no offense. In fact, he was more grateful than anything else that she had already grown so comfortable with him.

It was strange, since they’d just met, but he felt the same way. Oh, not with the fact that he was in a tiny plane far above the ground … but with her. Like he could say just about anything and it would roll off her back. She had such an easygoing way about her. It went well with the adventurous spirit that put her in the cockpit of a plane wearing go-go boots and booty shorts.

Personally, he had the feeling they were going to get along tremendously. He felt more relaxed with her than he had with anyone—including just himself—in months.

Except for the whole being-in-a-small-plane thing. Which he was trying to forget.

“Okay, I apologize,” he said. “I’m sure you would have been great. But I think any mother with a brain cell in her head would insist her kid be moved out of your class before the father attended his first parent-teacher conference.”

She didn’t respond. But the middle finger didn’t come up, either.

“Now, back to the subject. Your job. I guess you like to fly, huh?”

Before she could answer, the plane rose suddenly, then dropped hard, though not far, just like a kite being lifted and gently tossed by an unexpected gust. “Jesus …”

“Don’t worry, it was just an air pocket. It’s completely normal. In a jet this size, we just feel the turbulence a bit more than you’re used to.”

Why one little pocket of air was any different than the rest of the big, vast atmosphere, he had no idea. He just knew he didn’t like it. “Okay, uh, stay away from those pockets, would you please?”

“Sure,” she said with a snort and, though he couldn’t see it, probably an eye roll. “I’ll just watch for the yellow hazard signs and steer around them.”

“Your empathy would have been a real help in a job teaching young children.”

Instead of being insulted, she snickered, a cute, self-deprecating sound. “Sorry.” Then, though she didn’t turn completely around, her eyes shifted slightly. Enough to catch a glimpse at his probably tense face. “I like flying better than you, I take it?”

“It’s not my favorite thing to do.”

“And I bet it’s even worse when you’re not tucked inside the belly of a huge 747, trying not to catch the mood of all the other nervous flyers who are envisioning the worst?”

“Exactly.”

She nodded once, then offered, “Doesn’t it help to think something smaller would be easier to keep aloft than some big, monstrous commercial airliner? Just like a feather on the breeze?”

“No,” he admitted. “Actually, all I keep thinking about is the whole man/wings thing.”

“Relax. I haven’t crashed in, oh, a good month at least.”

Not appreciating the joke, he stared, his eyes narrowed. “My luck, I get the comedian in hot pants for the pilot.”

“Sorry. Just figured if you laugh a little, you might relax.”

“Say something that’s actually funny and I might.” Though, he doubted it. A tranquilizer or a shot of gin might help him calm down. Or this woman’s hands. Then again, if this woman’s hands ever did land on him, calm almost certainly would not describe his mood.

“Why don’t you try closing your eyes and just pretending you’re somewhere else?”

“Pretend?”

“You know. Fantasize.” Her voice melodic, as if she were a hypnotist, she provided a fantasy. “You’re in a safe, solid car driving up a mountain pass toward a beautiful old hotel.”

“Okay, this isn’t helping. I’m thinking Jack Nicholson heading toward that hotel in The Shining.”

She huffed out a breath. “It’s an exclusive ski lodge, glamorous, not haunted. Around you is nothing but pristine, white snow, blue sky, clear air.”

“Guys with axes …”

“Don’t make me come back there!”

“Okay, okay,” he said with a grimace.

Reese closed his eyes and tried to see it. He really did. But he could conjure up no mountain pass. No car. No ski lodge.

A curvy snow-bunny wearing a fluffy hat, skimpy shorts and skis … that was about as close as he could get.

He sighed. Not necessarily because it was a bad thing, but because the vision was so damn hot, it had him a little dizzy.

“Don’t use your imagination much, I guess. I should have known.”

His eyes flew open. “I have an imagination.”

“Uh-huh. Let me guess, most of the time what you imagine is getting through the next sales meeting or closing some big business deal.”

Reese shifted a little, not answering. Up until he’d walked up to her on the tarmac, that had been pretty accurate. Since then, though, he’d been imagining a few other things. But to tell her she was wrong meant to spill those thoughts, which he wasn’t about to do—again, at least not after a one-hour acquaintance.

Though, two was looking better all the time.

The plane bounced again, quickly, up and down. Reese’s stomach bounced with it—at least, on the way up. It didn’t go all the way down and settle back into place.

He felt the blood drain from his cheeks. “I think we just ran over a moose. Or a lost skier.”

“There’s a small fridge between the seats. You look like you could use a drink.” She chuckled. “Or a Valium.”

“Wow. That is first-class service.”

“Kidding.”

“Yeah. I figured that,” he said, ignoring the offer. He didn’t need a drink. He just needed a distraction.

Fortunately, one of the sexiest ones he had ever seen was sitting just a few feet away. As long as he didn’t humiliate himself by losing his lunch on the floor of her pristine jet, he fully intended to enjoy spending this flight in her company.

And maybe more than that.

After all, why shouldn’t he? He already liked her sense of humor, the competent way she handled the controls, the low laughter. There was a lot to like about this woman beyond her killer legs. Not to mention the rest of the physical package. She was quick and witty, sharp, smart. Lots to like. Lots to want.

And he could like her, want her … maybe even have her, without any of the complications that would arise if he were within fifty miles of home. There, he never felt free to do something for no other reason than the fact that he wanted to. The idea of heaving aside all that responsibility for a little while, of grabbing on to a good thing and enjoying the hell out of it just because he could, was incredibly appealing.

“Is this your first time chartering?” she asked.

The plane jiggled the tiniest bit and he instinctively clutched the armrests. “That obvious, huh?”

“You have that first-timers glow.”

Huh. Did vampires glow? Because he figured his face was probably as white as one.

“Must be a pretty important trip.”

He shook his head. “You’d think so, right? But I’m actually headed to a Halloween party.”

She glanced over her shoulder in surprise. Reese waved toward the front, “Keep your eyes on the road, please.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not about to drive into the back of a slow-moving semi doing fifty during rush hour.”

He’d just be happy if she didn’t drive into the back of a slow-flying goose. A big Canadian one.

Oh, God, one of those had brought down a huge airliner, hadn’t it?

Stop thinking about it.

Right. He had much better things to think about. The way his family business was booming under his management, even in this bad economy. The success of their first nationwide marketing campaign. The house he’d just finished remodeling and considered his private fortress in the middle of his crazy world. The sexy pilot in hot pants whom he now kept picturing on skis, and whose downhill slopes he would very much like to explore. Much better things.

“So, Halloween party, huh?” she said. “If this is you dressing up, what do you regularly look like? I mean, in your real life, are you a biker-dude who usually wears black leather and chains? Only for the occasion, you’re dressing up as a boring businessman?”

Reese leaned forward, dropping his elbows onto his knees, and stared at the back of her silky-haired head. “Ahem. Boring?”

“It was a joke. I was just trying to distract you.”

Maybe. Or maybe she really did think he looked boring.

He should have felt a little insulted. Reese had been fending off most of the single women in his small hometown since his high school days. Most of them. He definitely hadn’t fended off all, at least not before two years ago when his life had gotten so out of whack. And he had enjoyed his share of discreet flings through the years. Could’ve had enough to qualify as a half-dozen guys’ shares if he’d felt like it. His sisters were forever cackling over some of the ways in which the hungry local females tried to get his attention.

True, the females in question were no longer the twentysomething party girls who’d gone through his revolving bedroom door a few years ago. They were now career women who saw the steady businessman with a nice income and a reputation as being a great guy who stepped up for his family. But there were still quite a few of them and they definitely wouldn’t say no if he ever started asking again.

He wasn’t the hottest dude in the known universe, and he suspected the money that flowed from his family’s successful brewery was partially responsible for the attention. But nobody had ever called him boring before, that was for sure.

Damn, that was harsh.

And damn, she was right. To hell with all the mental pumping about how great business was, and how many women had made plays for him. His personal life was exactly what this beautiful woman imagined it to be.

Boring.

Boiled in mediocrity and steeped in sameness, he’d allowed himself to disappear into a daily life that wasn’t ever what he’d imagined for himself. Ennui had grabbed him by the lapels of his stuffy suit and forced him to remain in his small box of family, business, responsibility. He hadn’t even tried to step outside that box in a long time.

Maybe it was time. Maybe he should heed his great-aunt Jean’s advice: live, go a little wild, have an adventure.

It had sounded crazy, impossible a few weeks ago when she’d burst into his office. Now? Not so much. Especially because he’d suddenly found someone he wanted to go a little wild with.

There was, of course, one obstacle.

“Are you single?” he asked, direct and to the point.

Her shoulders stiffened the tiniest bit and she hesitated. Then, with a small, shaky exhalation he could hear from back here—as if she’d made some decision—she nodded once.

“Yes. Completely unattached. You?”

“The same.”

He didn’t give it any more thought. She might have thrown the word boring at him, but he had seen the look of interest in her eyes before they’d gotten aboard the plane. The tiny hitch in her breath just now, and the sudden tension that had her curvy body sitting so stiffly in her seat told him her thoughts had gone in the same direction as his.

Have an adventure.

Sounded like a good idea to him.

“So how do you like Halloween parties?”

AMANDA HAD TO ADMIT IT … Reese Campbell made one hot-as-blazes 1970s-era airline pilot. Eyeing him from the other side of the backseat of the taxicab, she wondered what strange whim of fortune had sent such a sexy, charming, single man across her path right when she needed one most.

And she definitely needed one. It had been a long time since she’d felt so sure of herself as a woman, so in tune to the sensations coursing through her body. All the late-night blue movies that had played in her mind lately, replacing any semblance of a real love life, had been mere placeholders, no substitute for the great sex she wasn’t having.

Those mental movies were going to have a new leading man in them after tonight. Because she had the feeling that before the night was over, she was going to be saying, “Welcome aboard,” and “Fly me,” and meaning exactly what those old ad execs had wanted passengers to think the sexy stewardesses meant.

She wanted Reese. He wanted her. It was a wild, reckless Halloween night and they were both single and interested.

So why not?

Okay, so she’d never done the one-night-stand-with-an-utter-stranger thing. But her best friend, Jazz, had. She hadn’t ended up with a scarlet A branded on her chest or any nasty diseases, nor had she needed therapy to get rid of some nonexistent guilt.

Considering she sometimes thought Jazz was the only woman her age in the world who was the least bit like her, or who completely understood her, she didn’t figure the example was a bad one to follow.

Besides, Amanda had indulged in short-term affairs before. In fact, considering how badly her last few relationships had ended, a one-night stand sounded just about perfect.

She liked sex. She liked it a lot. This time, she’d just be having it without the two requisite dates—drinks, then dinner—first. Or the worrying about a phone call the next day. Reese would go back to his life in Pittsburgh, she’d stay here, and they’d both smile whenever they thought of the night they’d gotten a little down-and-dirty with a stranger in Chicago.

Best of all … there’d be no crazy fake suicide attempts. No drunk-dialing complaints that she was a feckless bitch who enjoyed breaking guys’ hearts. And Reese wouldn’t become the newest member of the Facebook group “Dumped by Amanda Bauer,” which had actually been set up by a guy she’d dated during her junior year of college.

God, men could be such fricking babies.

Back to the subject: one-night stand.

Okay. Sounded good. She just had to feel her way around to make sure Reese was on board with it. Judging by the way he’d been devouring her with his eyes since the minute they’d met, she had a feeling that was a big, fat yeah.

“How in God’s name did they breathe in these things?” he muttered as he tugged at the too-tight collar of his shirt. “I can’t believe there weren’t crashes due to lack of oxygen in the pilots’ brains.”

“It’s only a suit, for heaven’s sake,” she said, rolling her eyes at the typical male grumbling. “It just happens to be too small for you.”

They’d found the antique uniform Reese was using as a costume at the airport after landing in Chicago. It hadn’t been difficult. Lots of the companies at O’Hare had been around for decades, and Amanda had friends at just about all of them. A few inquiries had put her in the office of a guy who’d worked as a baggage handler since the days when there’d been a Pan in front of American. He’d known where lots of interesting old stuff was kept and had put an only-slightly-musty uniform, complete with jaunty pilot’s cap, in her hands within an hour of landing.

It was too tight across Reese Campbell’s broad shoulders, but loose around the lean hips and tight buns. Whoever Captain Reliable from the 1970s had been, he definitely hadn’t had Reese’s mouthwatering build.

“You’re going to rip it,” she said as he continued to tug. “The thing is flimsy enough.”

Brushing his hands away, Amanda reached up to his strong throat, her fingers brushing against the warm, supple skin. A low, deep breath eased in through her nearly closed lips and she suddenly felt a little light-headed. There was such unexpected strength in him, tone and musculature more suited to an athlete than to the boring businessman she’d accused him of being.

Not that she’d meant it. Not at all. The clothes he’d been wearing might have been conservative, but the look in those eyes, the sexy twist to his lips, the suggestive tone of his conversation … none of those things had indicated anything but exciting, intriguing male.

A thin sheen of sweat moistened the throat where the shirt had cut into the cords of muscle. She had to suck her bottom lip into her mouth just to make sure she didn’t do something crazy like lean closer and taste that moisture, sample that skin. She ignored the sudden mental command to just do it, focusing instead on unfastening the top button and loosening his tie.

Reese said nothing, just stared at her, his expression hard to read in the low lighting of the cab.

When she was finished, she dropped her hands to her lap, twisting her fingers together on top of her long winter coat. It didn’t quite match the costume, but despite the mild autumn they’d been having, it had become freaking cold out when the sun went down. She honestly didn’t know how the hippest 1970s chicks had stood it.

“So, this client of yours, he’s not going to mind you showing up with a …” She considered her words, decided against saying date and concluded, “… guest?”

“It’s a pub,” Reese replied, his sensual lips curving up a little at the corners. “I think they can handle one extra.”

“That’s some job you’ve got, having to go to pubs for Halloween parties,” she said, trying to think about something other than his mouth. How much she wanted that mouth. And where she wanted that mouth.

“I don’t think it quite stacks up to yours—having to jet off to the Caribbean to ferry the rich around to their sinfully expensive vacations.”

“I usually ferry obnoxious, spoiled executives to their sinfully expensive corporate retreats.”

He tsked. “I’m sure they consider it bailout money well spent.” He hesitated for a split second, then added, “So I guess I should be glad you called me boring rather than obnoxious and spoiled?”

“Not obnoxious,” she immediately replied.

A brow went up. “Spoiled?”

Amanda tapped her fingertip on her chin, pretending to think about it. She didn’t suspect this man was spoiled in the way some of her clients were. He didn’t come off as rich, used to everyone bowing down before him at the first request. And he definitely wasn’t the kind of guy who expected a woman to spread her legs at the first mention of something sparkly.

Yeah, she’d met a bunch of those guys. Amanda had always been left wondering what kind of woman would trade a night beneath a sweating, out-of-shape, pasty old man for a pair of diamond earrings.

Reese wasn’t like those men, not physically, not mentally. She had the feeling he was successful but he was not financially spoiled.

Spoiled in other ways? Maybe. Something about his self-confidence, his half smile when he’d asked if she was single, told her he was used to getting what he wanted when it came to women. The way he sat just a few inches away—casual and comfortable when she, herself, was tingling with excitement at his nearness—said he was sure of what he wanted to happen and his ability to make it happen.

Sexually confident, yeah. But spoiled? No. The guy who’d looked like he was going to lose his lunch during the flight had been adorably sexy and vulnerable. Not one creepy, jerky, I’m-good-and-I-know-it thing about him.

“Not spoiled,” she admitted.

“I should hope not. As the oldest of six kids, I learned at a very young age not to count on anything I owned remaining unbroken, unborrowed or unlost.”

“Six kids!” The very idea horrified her. One sibling—one perfect, good, just-like-their-parents sibling who did exactly what was expected of her and never stepped off the approved path—was quite enough for Amanda, thank you very much.

“My God. Six. I can’t even imagine it,” she muttered.

“Oh yeah.” A small chuckle emerged from his mouth as he added, “It was never boring.”

Amanda nibbled her bottom lip before replying, a bit sheepishly, “Sorry I said that earlier. I was just trying to get you to relax.”

Reese might dress the part of executive, but no man with those looks, that mouth and that gleam of interest in his eyes could possibly be called boring.

“So how’s that strategy work for you?”

Confused, she asked, “What strategy?”

“Throwing insults at guys to relax them. Working out okay?”

Hearing the laughter in his tone—knowing he was laughing at himself, too—she had to admit, she liked Reese Campbell.

Wanted him. Liked him. Two points checked off her mental I’m-no-slut-and-don’t-have-one-night-stands list.

Tonight was looking better by the minute.

“It worked on me, by the way.” He leaned back farther in the seat, turning a little to stare at her. The dim reflections from streetlights they passed striped his handsome features in light and shadow. His breaths created tiny vapors in the chilly air that couldn’t be banished by the car’s weakly blowing heater. His voice was low, thick as he promised, “Because I’m looking forward to proving you wrong, Amanda.”

Her heart skipped a beat. Just one. Something about the way her name rode softly, smoothly, on his exhalation, thrilled her. But she managed to keep her own breaths even. “Oh?”

He nodded. “There’s nothing boring about what’s going to happen between us.”

A shiver of excitement coursed through her. It started with her lips, which quivered and parted, then moved down her entire body, which suddenly felt so much more … alert, somehow. The cold was more biting, the coat scratchy against her bare thighs. Her breasts tingled under the slick, polyester fabric of her blouse, the sensation sensual against her tight nipples.

Excitement had awakened every inch of her. It had been there, sparking right beneath the surface, for hours, since she’d first spied him on that tarmac back in Pittsburgh. Now the spark had caught and spread into a wildfire of interest and arousal, even though he hadn’t touched her.

He knew. He had to know. The very air seemed thick with her sudden certainty of just how much she wanted the man. That certainty must have communicated itself to him with her shallow, audible breaths, the almost imperceptible way she leaned closer to him, irresistibly drawn to his heat. His size. His scent.

The big, strong hand sliding into her hair and cupping her head came as no surprise. She smiled in anticipation as he turned her face, tilted her chin up, then bent toward her. Their breaths mingled in the cold evening air and an almost tangible sizzle of excitement preceded the initial meeting of their lips.

A heartbeat later, the cold air disappeared. Nothing separated them at all.

Their first kiss was no tentative brush of lip on lip, nor was there any hesitation, or even a gasp at the thrill of it. It was instead strong and wet. Sensuous. Confident and hungry, Reese parted his lips and slid his tongue against hers, tasting deeply, thoroughly, with enjoyment but not desperation.

Enjoyment could easily lead to desperation, she had no doubt. But despite the fact that they were in the backseat of a random cab, and had a one-man audience, courtesy of the rearview mirror, Amanda didn’t care.

She wanted this. Craved it. So she didn’t resist or even hesitate. Instead, she reacted with pure instinct, wrapping her arms around his neck. Tilting her head to the side, she silently invited him deeper. She moaned at the delights provided by his soft tongue, tasting him and exploring the inside of his mouth.

He was warm and solid, the spicy, masculine smell of him filling her head even as his heat against her body chased away any last remnants of chill.

Finally, he ended the kiss, slowly pulling away far enough to stare down into her eyes. She saw want there. And something else—excitement. Pleasure.

His lips quirked. And she saw even more: self-confidence. He confirmed it with a broad, satisfied smile.

“This is going to be so much fun.”

“The party?”

He shook his head. “You and me.”