Читать книгу Between The Sheets - P.J. Mellor - Страница 15

“A party spa,” Andrea said an hour later as she took a sip of her margarita and leaned back in the pedicure chair. She looked over at Lisa. “Leave it to you to find something like this.”

Lisa’s nose wrinkled with her impish smile. “Isn’t it TDF?”

“TDF?”

That earned an eye-roll. “Duh. To. Die. For.”

“Nothing is worth dying for. Not even a spa that serves margaritas.”

“You take things too seriously. Loosen up.”

“You’d be amazed at how loose I’ve become of late.” The thought of her loose activities that afternoon with Connor had her struggling to keep from squirming in the big chair. She took a long swallow of her margarita and must have breathed in because she choked.

“Drea, are you okay?” Lisa put down her own drink and reached over to thump her friend’s back.

Andrea drew in a breath between gagging and coughing. “Yes,” she sputtered, “just went down the wrong way.”

After they’d settled back with their drinks, Lisa grinned over at her. “Okay, I’ll bite. Exactly how loose have you been lately? What? Did you forget to enter something into your to-do list? I know! You didn’t pick up your dry cleaning.” She chuckled. “You rebel, you.”

“Ah, no.” Andrea waited until the manicurist finished laying the hot stones on her legs, covered them with a towel, and walked away before she answered. “Not even close,” she whispered, then leaned a little closer. “I had sex.”

Lisa rolled her eyes. “No offense, but I think you’ve done that a few times since I’ve known you. Although I did notice you have sort of a glow. What makes this different?” Her eyes widened. “No! You did not have sex with your newest client, Mr. O’Something?”

“You know perfectly well what his name is. O’Brian. Connor O’Brian.”

“Yeah. Him. The old guy, right?” The twinkle in her eyes told Andrea her assistant also knew Connor was far from old.

“You knew he wasn’t old, didn’t you?”

Lisa took a swig of her drink and waved her hand negligently. “BFD. It’s not like you’re robbing the cradle or anything. I checked him out. You’re not even five years older.” She shrugged. “What harm did it do to let you think he was old for a while?”

“You have no idea.”

“So.” Lisa leaned across the space separating their chairs. “How was it? How was he? I saw his picture.” She fanned her face with her newly manicured hand. “Whoa, baby. That’s one showing I wouldn’t have minded.” She winked. “Not that I’d have shown him everything you did, boss.”

Ignoring the innuendo, Andrea narrowed her eyes. “Where did you see a picture of Connor O’Brian?”

Lisa shrugged. “IDK. Maybe a magazine or something.”

“A magazine or something. Right. Why do I think I was set up?” She set her empty glass on the built-in tray on the arm of the chair and faced her friend. “You were the one who went over and turned on the spa at the Ocean Drive house, weren’t you?”

“Hey, I was just trying to help. We both know property shows better when it’s staged. Since the furniture is out, I thought the best selling point would be the pool area. So…did it work? Did he make an offer?”

“No. No offer. Not on the house, anyway.” Connor’s heated words, telling her exactly what he wanted to do to her, echoed through her mind, bringing a flush to her cheeks.

“Ooh! Do tell.”

“There’s nothing to tell, Lisa.” She took a sip of her margarita. “Oh, get this! Rich just happened to come by to show the house while we were there. How’s that for a coincidence?”

“Do you think it was a legit showing? Big brother has pulled stuff like that before.”

Andrea thought for a moment. “You know, now that I think about it, the couple really wasn’t the demographic for that kind of house.” She grinned. “Now I’m really glad Connor decked him.”

“RUK? He did that?” Lisa sighed and batted her eyelashes. “Our hero.”

Trying to banish the same thought, Andrea raised her glass. “Uno mas, por favor!”

“Um, Drea? They’re Vietnamese; it’s doubtful they speak Spanish.”

“Oh. I knew that.” She ran her tongue around the edge of the empty glass, savoring every last taste. “But they still make a damn good margarita.”

An older woman walked out with a sweating pitcher of margaritas, smiling and nodding.

Andrea and Lisa smiled and nodded back, holding out their glasses for a refill.

“So now what?” Lisa asked, settling back in the chair as she punched the massage controls.

“What do you mean?”

“Drea, it’s a pretty simple question. Now that you’ve, you know, how do you plan to proceed? I mean, as the saying goes, once you’ve had sex, you can’t go back to holding hands, if you know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t. Explain.” Just the thought of having sex with Connor again brought a flush to her face that had very little to do with the margaritas. But maybe Lisa had a point. “Are you saying I should dump Connor as a client? Lisa, we need this sale, remember? I’ve already invested a lot of time, put in a lot of legwork.”

Lisa snickered. “Not to mention other body parts.”

“Very funny. I’m a professional. I can control myself and continue the agent/client relationship, following through to the sales contract.”

Lisa sighed and set her glass aside. “Drea, I’m not questioning your professionalism or work ethic. We both know you excel in those areas.” She shrugged. “I guess I’m just questioning your motive. Your true motive.”

“I didn’t have a motive. It just happened.”

“BS. I’ve known you for ten years, and I have yet to see anything just happen with you. You plan every minute detail of your life. If this wasn’t planned”—she held up her hand to stop Andrea’s automatic protest—“and I believe you when you say it wasn’t, I just have to question your subliminal motive.”

“For the last time, I’m telling you, there was no motive! Subliminal or otherwise.”

“Exactly.” Lisa looked annoyingly smug. “I think there’s more to it than hormones and opportunity. I think, on some level, quite possibly a primal one, you responded to whatever it is that’s hardwired into Connor O’Brian’s DNA.”

“What! That’s ridiculous. It was happenstance. Serendipity maybe, even.” Andrea paused, unable to control the warmth flooding through her at the thought of the afternoon delight she’d indulged in. But what Lisa was suggesting was preposterous, even for Lisa. “It was…I mean, it was just…well, unless I somehow thought it might sweeten the deal.” Her mouth pulled down. “We see how well that worked.”

Of course, though difficult to admit, she’d basically prostituted herself for the sake of making a sale; it was, in all probability, the essence of it. Would she do it again? Heated memories flashed through her. In a New York minute.

“Oh, give it up, Drea!” Lisa’s voice brought her back to the conversation. “Admit it. It was to hell and gone more than casual sex.”