The Promotion (Contemporary Reverse Harem 3)

I, on the other hand, watched her. Discreetly, of course. Didn’t want to be a creep about it.

“Do you ever buy any art from Scott? He has some really cool stuff here,” she said.

“I have bought a couple pieces that he picked out for me. I don’t know a thing about art. I couldn’t tell you whether they’re good or bad. But they do look nice in my apartment.”

She swiveled on the sofa until she faced me. “Thank you for inviting me tonight. This is awesome.” She shimmied her shoulders a bit. Like a happy cat, purring.

“I’m glad you were free. And may I say, you are stunning tonight?”

She looked down at her wine while a faint pink blush washed over her face. I loved that she was modest.

“Thank you. So you work in the financial district?”

“Yup. Over by Wall Street. Yup, I’m a finance guy like nearly every other asshole here in New York.”

She threw her head back and laughed.

“Well, do you like it?” she asked.

I had to think about how to answer that one.

“It’s okay, I guess. I took over my dad’s small firm when he retired.”

“No kidding. A family business,” she said, her gaze searching mine.

“Thank you. Yeah, I’d been working at the firm since college, so it only made sense. My mom really wanted me to carry it on.”

“Where are your parents?” she asked.

“Out on Long Island. I really don’t see them enough. I feel crappy about it.”

“Does your brother go out there often?”

“He does. He makes up for my being a bad son.” I wasn’t really a bad son. I think I just said that for sympathy. I stood and pulled Maizy to her feet. “Let’s take a walk around.”

I’d helped Scott build out the place, so I knew it like the back of my hand. In fact, a couple years prior, when the heat went out in my apartment in the middle of winter, I slept in the gallery for a few days. It worked out great.

“I just love this painting,” she said, pointing at something that looked like a pot of paint had been spilled on it.

“Um, yeah. It’s really cool.”

I caught her looking at me. “You don’t like it at all, do you?” She was wearing a huge grin.

Busted.

I wasn’t a very good liar.

I looked around to make sure no one could hear, and shrugged. “I don’t get it. I mean, what the hell is it?”

She was going to think I was a total dick now.

Instead, she put her hand on my arm.

“It’s cool. Everyone has their own tastes.” She looked around at the paintings. “I can totally see how these might not appeal to everyone.”

At that, I needed to kiss her. There was no way I was waiting any longer. I leaned toward her, and she fell right into me. So I kissed her harder, finally having the opportunity to sink my paws into that gorgeous blonde hair. There were a few people milling around us, but shit, I didn’t care. It was a freaking art gallery with weird-ass paintings all over the place. A public kiss was no big deal.

I pulled back, pressing my forehead to hers. Her eyes slowly fluttered open, and her warm breath washed over me, a combination of something minty and white wine-ish. I kept a fistful of her hair in my hand, amazed at its silkiness. I wanted to take things further and bury my face in it, but I knew to go slow.