Get Lucky

“Whatever happened last night,” I say, “whatever the hell it was in the moment, I don’t think this is a woman I want to get entangled with.”


Unless it’s upstairs right now, in my suite, entangled in the sheets as we fuck each other senseless. That kind of entangling would be just fine.

Jesus, what the hell is happening to me?

“I don’t think that’s true,” Stacy says, pursing her lips in a knowing smile. “Besides, it doesn’t matter what you want. It’s my special day. Bridal trump card, baby. Today, I get what I want.”

“It’s my weekend too,” Mike says, pulling his bikini-clad fiancée against his chest and nuzzling her neck. She giggles. Mike’s the only man alive who could make Stacy giggle. “Do I get a say in this?”

His tone’s light, but I know Mike’ll back me if I need it.

Ah, what the hell. Let me give Stacy something she wants for her big weekend, even if she has misguided, romantic notions about me and this girl.

“All right,” I say at last. “Because I care so damn much.”

“You’re a treasure,” Stacy drawls.

“I’ll call her,” I grumble, pulling out my cell. I think she’s got her phone at least.

Stacy cheers and takes a long chug of Mike’s beer. While he deals with his alcohol-swiping future wife, I wait as the phone rings once, twice. A strange feeling pulses through me; it’s both lightness and unease. She may not pick up. She said she was having a lunch meeting anyway. Maybe I won’t get to see her again. I can’t tell if that’s a relief or—

“Hello?” Julia’s voice is wary. “Who is this?”

My heart beats faster. Goddamn it, why am I acting like some high school loser calling up his crush? Pull it together, asshole.

“It’s Nate,” I say. I clear my throat. There. Now I sound like a confident jackass. Exactly what I want. “Nate Wexler,” I add in a voice that is five octaves deeper than it was a second ago.

“Oh, good. Your number isn’t in my contacts. What’s up? Did you find my purse?” she asks. Very business, very professional. She doesn’t sound like she cares all that much.

What the fuck am I doing getting excited about this shit?

“Calling on behalf of Stacy. She wants to know if you’d like to have lunch with us,” I say. My tone’s casual. She can take it or leave it. Either way, doesn’t matter to me.

“Oh. I mean, I’m eating now,” she says, sounding surprised.

Right. Of course, she had a lunch meeting. I shrug.

“That’s fine, I can tell Stacy—”

“But I’m a hobbit. We believe in second luncheon. Where should I meet you guys?”

Is it my imagination, or does she sound eager? That thought pleases me more than it should.

“A hobbit?” I ask.

“Please don’t make me recite the entirety of Lord of the Rings to you. It’ll take several hours.”

“I know what hobbits are. Even I’m not that out of touch. We’re over at the pool,” I say, trying not to smile. The hell is wrong with me? “Can’t miss it. You’ll recognize Tyler making an ass of himself.”

Speaking of the buffoon, he pulls himself out of the pool and walks over to us, dripping.

“There’s a sight that once seen cannot be unseen,” she agrees.

Julia says goodbye and hangs up, and I take another swig of my beer as Tyler grabs a towel. My temples have stopped throbbing. Finally, my hangover appears to be lifting.

“Was that so hard?” Stacy says, giving me a damn smug smile.

“Not hard at all,” I answer. And it wasn’t hard. At all.

And that’s the problem.





12





Julia





“So you skipped out on the end of lunch with Meredith and your editor to go to another lunch with the guy you just now remember banging last night?” Shanna grins as we head into the restaurant. She throws an arm around me and squeezes tight. “I knew you were doing Vegas right.”

Then she slaps my ass. Our friendship is deep and true.

“Yeah, yeah. Just enjoy the free food, all right? If we’re all going out, I’m sure it’s on Nate’s, er, dime.”

Oh God, I nearly said on Nate’s dick. I nearly said it. I’m going to hell.

Shanna might suspect my near slip of the tongue, because she looks smugly pleased.

“Over here!” Stacy calls, waving to us with a lot of enthusiasm. At least someone at this table’s happy to see me. The restaurant is very high-end Thai, the kind with waterfalls running along fake rocks, bamboo wind chimes, and Buddhas sitting on golden lotus leaves. The table’s long, with most of the people we met last night chatting together.

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