“Oh, thank goodness,” she said. “A couple rich guys just sat down at that table near the corner. They're just so crude and disgusting. I can't stand them.”
My eyes drifted over toward where Sasha was pointing, and I recognized them instantly. I rolled my eyes and smiled.
“Yeah, I'm familiar with them,” I said. “The blonde guy isn't too bad though, honestly.”
“That's Malcolm Crane, right?”
I nodded. “He's less of an ass than his friend.”
Sasha shrugged. “If you say so. Personally, I think a person's choice of friends says a lot about them.”
Maybe she was right, I thought to myself. Or maybe, it was just an overly-simplistic generalization to make. Personally, I hated to think Malcolm was anything like Greg. In the few, brief interactions we'd had, he seemed to be a decent enough guy. But then, I also barely knew him. Anybody can appear to be decent enough within a small enough sample size.
“You better clock out before Leon throws a fit,” I said. “You know how he feels about overtime.”
Sasha walked off toward the timeclock in the back, leaving me to face the table alone. Greg grinned at me as I approached while Malcolm kept his head down, his eyes focused on the phone in his hand.
“Can't stay away for me, huh?” I teased. “Not even on a Monday evening. I'm flattered, boys.”
I stared at Malcolm, and only Malcolm, when I spoke. He finally looked up from his iPhone to meet my gaze. He flashed me a crooked little smile and there was a strange gleam in his eyes.
“You make it hard to stay away,” he said.
Greg looked at his friend, then back at me, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open. For once, he seemed unsure of what to say. Hell, so was I. I didn't expect Malcolm to hit on me or say anything even remotely flirty. That was usually Greg's game.
“The usual for you guys?” I said, clearing my throat.
Malcolm gazed at me with a fierce intensity and I felt the heat creeping into my cheeks. Beneath his scrutiny, I knew I'd be turning a very unnatural shade of red if I didn't get out of there soon. The last thing I wanted them to think was that they intimidated me in any way. I was the tough and unflappable girl. The girl with the sharp with and even sharper tongue. That was my MO and I needed them to keep thinking that.
“Yes, the usual for me,” Malcolm said.
His deep, blue eyes were so intense, I felt like I was drowning in them. A girl could very easily get lost in eyes like that and never find her way out. I swallowed, my words getting stuck in my throat and my thoughts getting muddled in my brain.
Damn, he was having an effect on me.
“And I'll have the same as him,” Greg said.
I nearly jumped out of my skin, having forgotten that there was anyone else at the table for a second. I quickly composed myself as Malcolm averted his gaze, turning back to his phone.
“Girlfriend checking up on you,” I said, my mouth suddenly feeling parched.
“Nah, I'm actually – well, never mind.”
Greg cleared his throat and jumped in with a wicked little grin on his face. “Malcolm is single now. That's why we're coming here a little more often, if you hadn't noticed. He's trying to hook up with someone.”
Malcolm cringed and put his phone away. “I'm not trying to 'hook up' with anyone, Greg.”
“Then what are you doing on Tinder?”
“Tinder, huh?” I chuckled. “And here, I thought all the decently attractive, successful men had their own dating app out there, somewhere. Because God knows, you can't find anyone decent on Tinder.”
Greg butted in, flashing me a devious little smile. “Or maybe your standards are too high.”
I shrugged, giving Greg a dirty look. “Maybe so, but I'd rather have high standards than STD's,” I shot back at him. Something flickered within Greg's eyes. His teasing little smirk was suddenly replaced by a look that sent a cold chill sliding all the way down my spine. I stepped back from the table as his eyes darkened as he stared at me. He looked me up and down, undressing me with his eyes, a salacious expression on his face.
It wasn't that I wasn't used to men looking at me like that – it was one of the hazards of my job. But the way Greg was looking at me was different. His look, and the way he licked his lips, said that whether I liked it or not, he was picturing me naked and probably doing things I'd never do. At least, not with him. The expression on his face told me that to him, I was nothing but a set of tits and a vagina. A toy. Something for his amusement.
Clearly, I'd stepped out of line finally, or maybe Greg was just having a bad day. Either way, I didn't want to stick around and find out. I just wanted to be away from Greg.