“I guess you’re totally straight then?” Rachel could play this game, even with a total stranger. Especially with a total stranger. “Because only a straight man would have those kinds of balls to be so blatant with a woman he’s just met.”
Zack placed both elbows on the table and peered at her between steepled fingers. His pursed lips betrayed how serious he really was. “We haven’t just met,” he said with conviction. “You’ve been haunting my dreams and artistic mind since I first saw you Saturday morning.”
Rachel guffawed again.
“You think I’m lying? Go on. Tell me your name.”
“Why?”
“First of all, I already told you my name. We should be on equal footing.” Zack put his arms down again. “And if you tell me your name, I’ll be able to explain to you why it’s fate that we’ve crossed paths in this humble café.”
Rachel leaned back in her seat, drew her legs up, and cocked her head to the side. “Okay,” she said, ponytail flopping against her shoulder. “My name is Rachel. Generic enough for you?”
“On the contrary,” Zack was quick to say with that same serious countenance from a few moments ago, “It explains everything.”
“Why?”
“Because Rachel is my favorite character from the Bible. See? It’s fate.”
“Really.” Rachel kicked her legs off the chair. She didn’t miss Parvati sending them another curious glance after taking care of her latest customer. “The Bible. Your favorite character. You’re kidding me, right?”
“Nope. I did my time in Sunday school. Rachel was the coolest one. So that must mean you’re cool, too.”
Rachel laughed, giving herself over to disbelief. “What’s your deal? Seriously.”
“My serious deal?” Zack gave her a look that implied he had no idea what to do with her. “I’ve already told you what I want.”
“What is that?”
“Your face representing my next collection.” He leaned in closer, voice dropping to the sorts of levels that usually led Rachel to making the worst decisions. “Or your beautiful body in my bed. Your pick.”
Rachel pressed her lips as tightly together as possible. How else was she going to hide how giddy that made her feel? Me? In your bed? Was this guy serious? This hot guy who was so seriously out of her league that she felt like she was on the other end of some gross joke, if she indulged in her cynical side? “Fuck,” she finally said.
“I was rather hoping you’d choose that option.”
“No!” Rachel knocked her empty teacup over, the wet teabag flying onto the hardcover of her Japanese dictionary. She hurried to remove it and wipe away the moisture left behind. “I mean… no, not that.”
“So you’ll be my model?”
Rachel was getting dizzy. “Can’t be both, huh?”
“Not yet. Complicates things.”
“Oh, of course.”
Zack wagged his finger at her. “You’re trouble. I can tell that about you.” He flashed another smile. “I like that in a woman.”
Okay, Rachel needed to start thinking. Not only about what this man actually wanted from her, but whether or not it even made sense to entertain him. There was no way he meant what he said about wanting anything more serious than a one-off date with her. Even better if he could get in her pants, then send her packing.
The Rachel of a month ago would have agreed, if only to get laid with a hot guy, consequences be damned.
This Rachel, however? Had other priorities.
“Sorry. I’m not interested in being anybody’s model.” So insulting, to joke about her being model material. Another tool in this guy’s toolbox on his quest to getting into women’s pants. “I’m also not into casual sex. So…”
“So?”
Rachel started packing up her things. Zack looked on with only the slightest bit of panic on his face. Not going the way you thought it would? That only made things more amusing for Rachel. Anything she could do to knock this guy out. “Guess that means we can only be friends, Mr. Feldstein.”
“Feldman,” he quickly corrected.
“Right, well…” Rachel wrapped her bag across her chest. “I gotta get going. Guess you know where to find me if you wanna be my friend.”
It felt good walking away from that offer. It also made her subconscious scream at her until she ran and hid in her apartment, wondering what it would have been like to give in to old temptations.
What an idiot.
Chapter 5
Zack had been turned down more times than he liked to admit over the course of his young, virile life, but he usually bounced back right away.
Not recently.
Recently, had been obsessing over Rachel and the way she laughed in his stupid face, as if thinking he could go out with her was so farfetched that he might as well go ask Ashley Graham while he was at it.
Joke was on her. The last woman who could be somewhat counted as a “real” girlfriend to Zack was also a hot plus-sized model with millions of Instagram followers and curves that made all men drool on themselves. They only broke up because she accused Zack of loving his yacht more than her.
I mean, yeah, look at this thing. Zack had never loved any woman. Nope. Never.
His beautiful lady, though? She would be with him forever. In some incarnation, anyway.
The Priss & Moan was the only wife Zack needed. Aside from art supplies, a bulk of his money went into maintaining his prized yacht and paying for one of the best spots in the marina. Not even Damon Monroe, who had one of the biggest yachts in town, had a better spot than Zachary Feldman. Then again, it helped that Zack preferred the sportier models that were a fun mix of partying and going fast on the waves. He didn’t need a home away from home. He merely needed a vessel big enough to keep his attention.
Priss was purchased as his twenty-first birthday present to himself. For the past several years, she had been the mistress of his dreams. So fuck Rachel. She was missing out!
“One manly mango mimosa for the only guy I know who owns up to loving them.” Zack brought two glasses over from his on-deck cocktail bar. Seth, who was hunched over his sketchbook, motioned for the glass to get in his hand. “And one for me, because why not?”
Seth folded his sketchbook shut. Zack had to hand it to his best friend: the man knew how to pick a fruity drink for beautiful days at the marina. “Thanks.”
“What are you drawing?” Zack gestured to the closed sketchbook. “More nudes of your girlfriend?”
Seth wasn’t the kind to rise to that good-natured bait. He was way too secure in the relationship he had with one of America’s most expensive courtesans. A woman he only began dating because he was so stricken by her beauty that he insisted on hiring her as his model. It had worked to jumpstart his own career in the arts, anyway. People the world over now clamored for Seth Christens’s artistic nudes.
“No. I’ve lost my mind and was sketching the marina.”
“Always my favorite fallback.” Zack sat next to him and sipped his drink. Damn. Mango is good. A punch of alcohol made it even better.
“What have you been working on lately?”
Zack shrugged. “Bit of this. Bit of that. Not married to any concept in particular.”
“Liar.”
The next sip of mimosa went down the incorrect pipe. When Zack was done coughing, he spat, “Excuse me, sir?”
“I called you a liar. Am I wrong?”
“About what?”
Seth remained nonplussed as he leaned against the guardrail and drank more of his mimosa. “You’re obsessing over something. It’s either women or art. Based on your reaction now, I’m guessing… both.”
“Fuck you, man.”
“Who turned you down?”
“Who said anything about someone turning me down?”
“So defensive. It must’ve been nasty. What, did you offer her money to be your model and she took that to mean you thought she was a sex worker?”
“You would know about that, huh?”
“Like I said. You’re so defensive.”
Zack scoffed in disbelief. This was the problem with being friends with someone like Seth Christens. They had completely different academic backgrounds. For fuck’s sake, Seth was a retired ob-gyn who only quit so he could pursue art full time. Let’s not forget that this fool is an only child. Compared to Zack, who was the youngest of three strapping sons, the birth order made a difference.
Also, Seth was a few years older. And their personalities were complete opposites. By all accounts, they should have never been friends. So of course the universe conspired to make them best friends after meeting at a gallery event three years before. If one of them were a woman, they’d be married by now.
“Okay. I’ll tell you what happened. You have to promise to not give me shit, though.”
“Cross my heart. Hope to die.”
“Whatever, man.” Zack proceeded to give the Cliff Notes version of what happened between him and Rachel, the enigmatic young woman from Opal’s Café. By the time he finished, Seth rolled his eyes and finished his mango mimosa.
“Let me get this straight,” he finally said. “You creeped on a woman in a café and are wondering why she didn’t go gaga for your sudden advances?”