The only upside to it all is Troy Cocksucker is at one of the restaurants where we have lunch. Paige meets me wearing a high-waisted yellow skirt that stops well above her knees. Her strappy black heels match the black and white striped crop top that leaves an inch of her tanned torso exposed.
She’s a fan of the midriff, sexy as sin, and if I weren’t still pretty far up Amy’s ass, I’d immediately escort her to the back room and fuck the shit out of her. A big smile when she sees me, and for the second time, I’m amazed at her acting ability. I don’t suppose I should be. As a stripper, she commanded top dollar for her ability to make every man in the room come in his pants.
“You look even better than when I left you in bed this morning!” Her greeting is loud enough for the important ears around us to hear.
I smile through my cringe and catch her elbow, giving her a lingering kiss on the cheek. “You’re stunning as always.” It’s not a lie.
Sitting, she leans to me, smiling and blinking. I follow suit, and her lips are right at my ear. “Good choice for lunch. Our friend is right behind me.”
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A nip to my earlobe, and she leans back again, wrinkling her nose. It’s all so playful and coy and such a lie. Behind her, I catch Cocksucker glaring daggers at me, and I almost laugh. Our eyes meet, and mine narrow. You fucking loser.
Paige is nothing more than a prize to him, a hot piece of ass to fill the hours when he can’t be with the woman who doesn’t belong to him. Still, I enjoy besting him—even it if isn’t real.
Karen stopping at our table cuts my satisfaction short. Roland Dickerson is with her. The two have been together since they were in school, but they’ve never married. I couldn’t care less as to why.
“What a cozy pair.” Her tone is so friendly, I look twice.
“Oh, hello.” Paige sits straighter and smiles from me up to her. “Marcus has been so lovely, introducing me to the neighborhood.”
“You’ll have to join me for brunch next week.” Karen’s invitation is perfunctory, as if she’s fulfilling some unwritten obligation. “Natalie and Vivian will join us, of course.”
Paige’s fingers tighten in mine, and I feel her hidden thumb scratching at my palm. One small brunch for bitches, one huge leap for stripper-kind.
“Merritt.” Roland extends a hand, and I half-heartedly shake it. He’s a slimy bastard, not to mention he’s Troy’s partner and close friend, which I don’t get. “I heard you’re working with Amy Knight.”
Karen visibly tenses at his question, but I ignore her. “She’s revamping our website, streamlining our public message—”
He nods. “Haven’t seen Amy in years, but I remember her... well.”
The way he says it, the implication that she’s nothing more than a beautiful face, reminds me of the days when I arranged interviews for Elaine at prospective law firms. They treated her like a little girl, and in the end, she told us all to go fuck ourselves and became a teacher.
“She’s a smart business woman,” I counter.
His pompous mouth twists into an oily grimace. “I’ve suggested using her services.”
“We’re planning to hire her full time.” My answer is too quick, and I feel Page give me a squeeze. Karen’s eyes flick to my face, and her laser gaze evaluates my response. Lifting Paige’s fingers to my lips, I give them a brush. “I have to stop being so distracted and think about work.”
Paige winks, and while Karen’s still suspicious, I think I covered my slip. “Well, we won’t interrupt your lunch date,” she says, leading Dickerson away.
I’m still internally fuming. Amy will not be working for Dickweed, Cocksucker, and Loveshead if I have anything to do with it.
“You okay?” Paige whispers, and when I glance up, she’s giving me an adoring smile.
Right. Head in the game, Marcus. “Feels like you’re all set.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“That only leaves Saturday night.”
She smiles, and I feel a sinking in my gut again.
* * *
Amy
My best friend sits across from me at one of the wooden bars extending from the wall at Lamb and Lady. The room is loud and busy, and I poke at my beet salad with my fork.