Kathryn bumped her hip in agreement.
“Would you hit on Reid?”
“What?” Kathryn’s brilliantly made-up eyes found Zarley’s in the dark.
She sighed. “He was, um, surprising and then I googled him and he’s one of those tech start-up geniuses.”
“No kidding.”
“I like him. I had a good time, but I don’t want to find out he’s got a girlfriend or is a major player.”
“He sat out there,” Kathryn waved a hand toward the stage, “for a month on his own. He didn’t act like a guy with a girlfriend.”
“I know.” She shrugged. “I just—”
“You really like him.”
“I do. And the sex, it was, it was—”
“Not something you want to have to share, right?”
“You said it.” Kathryn was classically beautiful and clearly smart. The kind of woman a man like Reid would find hard to pass up. “Would you, maybe, call him? You could say you got his number from me and wanted to thank him for breakfast, then you could . . .”
“Sleaze on him.”
Zarley felt her face color. “Yeah.”
Kathryn laughed. “You’re in deep.”
Not yet, but someone had greased her pole.
They snuck into the service corridor between sets and Kathryn called Reid. The call rang out.
“Try again.” It wasn’t late yet. If he was playing one of his video games, he might not have heard the call. Zarley’s gut squirmed, or he was with someone, or, crap—she was in deep.
Kathryn hit redial and at the last possible ring before the call timed out, Reid answered. Except he didn’t say anything.
“Ah, hello, is that Reid?”
Her head close to Kathryn’s, Zarley heard Reid’s brusque, “Who wants to know?”
“Ah. It’s Kathryn, Cinnamon, from Lucky’s. You know, we met, you took me for breakfast.”
Dead silence.
“Zarley gave me your number.”
Not a sound. Reid could do intimidating from half a city precinct away.
Kathryn scrunched her brows. “Anyway I wanted to call you to say thank you for the meal. It was fun. Nothing like that’s ever happened before.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I was wondering—”
“Is Zarley okay?”
Zarley was feeling more than okay. Zarley was almost tap dancing.