Alexander rolls his eyes and then turns toward the man. “Next time he’s all yours, big guy.”
The man turns toward me and lowers the gold-rimmed sunglasses down the bridge of his nose. His dark eyes drink me in from head to toe before he flicks his gaze in Alexander’s direction. “Are you with dis fine piece?”
Alexander sighs. “Yamada, this is Margo Buchanan. She’s my assistant.”
“I bet.” Yamada laughs and then pushes his glasses back over his eyes. “Just like old times, King. You bring all the fly honeys to the party.”
That takes me back. Old times? It sounds like Alexander’s relationship with Yamada goes far beyond a business one. How in the hell am I supposed to possibly find a way to infiltrate their business relationship if they are as good of friends as they seem to be?
“Don’t look so serious, Dime Piece,” Yamada says to me. “This is a party. Lighten up. We need to dance.”
My mouth gapes open as I look at Alexander, but he’s no help. He simply shrugs. “There’s no stopping him when he’s on a mission to party. Just go with it.”
Yamada grabs my hand. “Come with Yamada. I’ll show you a good time.”
I glance back at Alexander while this odd little man leads me along, and he just simply grins and waves before the crowd swallows him up.
“Why do you keep referring to yourself in the third person?” I complain as he weaves us through the crowd.
He turns toward me, pulling the sunglasses down the bridge of his nose and peering at me over the top of them again with an expression that I can only describe as dumbfounded. “Because that’s what all the badass madafakas do.”
For a split second, I don’t know if he’s actually serious or not, but when he winks at me, I can’t hold back a chuckle.
Yamada smiles, clearly pleased with my lightened mood, and then pushes his sunglasses back up. “Now that’s a killer smile. Let’s go shake it so I can show off that the hottest chick in this place is grinding on me.”
This man was so not what I was expecting when I imagined coming out here to meet Alexander’s business contact. I guess what I expected was a man that was, well, something more along the lines of my father—an accomplished older man. Instead, I get a younger guy who’s busy twerking in front of me at a crowded pool party.
I’m not sure I can take this guy seriously when it comes to anything business related, but he seems to be a damn good time. I’m going to have to rethink how I’m going to get in good with this man. For now, I’m going to dance because that seems like what he wants to do.
Yamada pops up and faces me. “Now that we’re alone, we can talk.”
I’m still dancing in time to the beat when I ask, “About what?”
“How long you know King?”
“Not long, but I’ve always known of him. Manhattan isn’t as big of a place as people think.” I tuck a loose strand of my dark hair behind my ear and figure this is my chance to get a little information too. “You two seem close. How did you meet?”
“In college,” he answers before doing a spin. “I met him when I came to America to study. He was floored by my awesomeness, and we’ve been friends ever since.”
“Wow,” I say, honestly surprised. “That’s cool that you two have stayed in touch.”
He shrugs. “When Yamada makes a friend, it’s for life, and now we’re business partners.”
We dance for a few more beats before he asks, “You fuck him yet, or does Yamada still have a shot?”
My mouth drops open and my eyes widen.
“Aw, shit. You did. I can tell by the look on your face. That’s okay, you’re only the second woman King has ever been able to beat Yamada to.”
That piques my curiosity. “Who was the other?”
“Jess,” Yamada answers. “His girlfriend from college. You know, the bitch who screwed him over and broke his heart.”
I raise my eyebrows. “I didn’t think he had one of those.”
Yamada tilts his head. “What? A heart?”
I nod and keep dancing with him.
He shakes his head in response. “You obviously don’t know him then, because he has one of the biggest hearts I’ve ever seen. I call him a * all the time for wearing it on his sleeve like a bitch. He needs to toughen up.”
Little does Yamada know, Alexander King has done an excellent job of making me, along with most of the women on the Upper East Side, believe that he’s a ruthless prick. I think I know him a little better than Yamada at this point.
“I think he’s plenty tough. Matter of fact, I think he’s a pompous ass,” I admit.