Samantha Hunter – Caught in the Act (страница 3)
“The band has been playing, so at least there’s been music, thankfully, but everyone’s expecting a singer. We
“Wait—no, I’m not who you think I am,” Gina began. “I’m not the singer you hired.”
“What do you mean? Did they screw up at the agency? For their prices? If you can’t do this, you’ll have to take it up with Mr. Scott directly, and see what he wants to do.”
The frazzled older woman was dressed as a witch and more than looked the part in her agitated state. Her hat was crooked, her makeup smudged, and Gina felt bad for her. “I swear, organizing these events is going to be the death of me. Something always goes wrong. Let me go get Mr. Scott, and you can—“
“No!” Gina blurted, panicking. There was no way she could meet face-to-face with Mason. What if he recognized a family resemblance? Rio could have mentioned her, and Gina couldn’t take the chance.
Her options were limited. She could leave as soon as the woman’s back was turned, but then she’d let Tracy down.
Or she could … sing.
Her voice was okay. She’d been in a few school musicals, and she sung around the house, in the shower, on karaoke nights with friends and at holiday gatherings. After a few beers, generally.
Did she have a choice? The witch was staring holes in her.
“Uh, I meant I’m not the same singer they intended to send. She was, uh, sick. So I don’t know the songs she had lined up.”
“Oh …” The woman put a hand to her forehead. “Okay, then. There are some with Halloween themes, and a few more modern blues numbers. If you don’t know her playlist, you can tell the guys what you want, and they can probably accommodate.”
Gina nodded stiffly, nerves making her so tense she felt brittle. “Can you let them know I’m sort of unprepared?”
“Sure, I’ll be right back.” The woman rushed off through the curtain, ostensibly to talk to the musicians.
Gina cleared her throat and tied to calm down. She’d sing a few tunes and then disappear to find Mason’s office. Maybe being on stage would give her a chance to get the lay of the land and keep track of Mason. This could work, right?
Or it could be a total disaster. When the woman came back, informing her that everything was set, Gina tried to step forward, but couldn’t get her feet to move. She could hardly believe it when the woman actually planted her hands on Gina’s back, shuffling her toward the stage, giving her no choice in the matter.
MASON SCOTT HOPED THE HEAVY makeup and the fake fangs he’d been wearing for the last two hours—with at least four more hours to go—masked the intense boredom he was suffering. Why did he even throw these parties anymore?
Because it was expected. His law firm expected each partner to organize some social event once a year to keep in contact with their clients, old and new, and to allow for social interactions among the increasing number of people in the firm who were now telecommuting. This was the price he paid for working from home most of the time. Dozens of people, among whom it would be a challenge to find a handful he could call real friends, invaded for a few hours once a year.
His brother Ryan, a bartender at a local beach bar, walked up to him in a brightly colored Speedo. The rest of him was bare skin covered in colorful patterns drawn on with body paints.
“This is your costume? Or did you just come from work?” Mason teased.
“Hey. I bet you don’t want to hear another joke about blood-sucking lawyers, but I have a couple I’ve been saving,” Ryan threatened in good humor, raising his beer. They’d always enjoyed razzing each other about the contrast in their lifestyles, but it was all in fun. Mostly.
“Point taken.”
“I thought so. Nice party.”
“Same ol’ same ol'.”
“Where’s Cynthia?”
“She went back to her ex.”
“Tough break, man.”
Mason shrugged. “It was never anything serious.” Though the stupid vampire costume had been her idea, and now he was here stag, suffering one clichéd comment after another about fees sucking people dry, etc., etc.
Mason hadn’t handled Cynthia’s divorce, but he should’ve guessed she’d been using him to make her husband jealous—especially when their last date was at an art gallery showing that her husband managed.
Mason supposed he hadn’t cared enough to … care. It wasn’t as if he had any permanent plans with the woman. Permanent hadn’t ever been a part of any of his relationships thus far in his life.
“You here with anyone?” he asked Ryan.
Ryan, as always, had a sparkle in his eye. “Nope, but hoping I won’t go home alone.”
“You never do.”
“Man, you’ve got plenty to choose from here. How
about Little Miss Muffet over there? She’s got a nice set of, uh … tuffets.”
Mason couldn’t help but laugh. His younger brother was an unapologetic womanizer with absolutely no interest in commitment.
“I’m happy for Cynthia,” he said, meaning it.
“C’mon,” Ryan groaned. “Not that again. How can you be so idealistic about marriage and relationships? You’re a divorce lawyer for crying out loud.”
“Hey, Mom and Dad have been together, what? Forty years this year? Plenty of people do it. It’s a good thing when it works, Ryan.”
“Yeah, and you see how often it doesn’t. Hell, I can see how often it doesn’t. Who do you think keeps our bar going but most of the divorcées in the Tampa area?”
“True. But we can’t see how often it does, right? Those people never appear in my office or at your bar,” Mason replied with a nod.
“Always the logical one. Should know better than to argue with you, Mason,” Ryan said, chuckling.
“That’s what I’ve always said.”
“But seriously, I can’t imagine settling down with one woman when there are so many beautiful ones out there.”
“Someday. Someday, Ryan, maybe you’ll find the one that makes you forget the rest.”
Ryan grunted his doubts, leering at a sexy demon as she passed by on her way to the bar, sheathed in red spandex, her tail flicking wickedly behind her.
“Well, may that day be far, far away,” he said with a low whistle.
“I’m sure it is. Is that paint permanent?” Mason asked about his brother’s tribal markings.
“It’s edible, man. It can be licked off.”
Mason held up his hands and cut off his brother’s next comment. “Okay, that comes dangerously close to an image I don’t want in my head.”
“Sorry.” Ryan laughed, completely unabashed and not really sorry at all. Ryan’s hand clamped on his brother’s shoulder. “You need to loosen up, Mason. You’re wearing your suit and tie even when you’re not. Find a woman here and have some fun. That’s what I intend to do,” he said, making eye contact with Miss Muffet, who smiled coyly in their direction.
“Yeah, whatever,” Mason said, feeling unaccountably old at that moment. As he watched Ryan strut across the room, he thought maybe his younger brother was right. He should be enjoying his own party, and why do that alone? Sporting a fangy smile, he started moving around the crowd, looking for a woman whom he might like to bite.
It just so happened he didn’t have to look for long—in fact, she popped out in front of the entire room, appearing on the stage in a breathtaking glimmer of cherry-red. Large brown eyes took them all in for a moment, her curly dark hair framing a delicate, heart-shaped face, at least insofar as he could tell with her mask covering the top half of it.
Her lips were painted as red as her costume. He couldn’t look away.
Mason walked closer to the edge of the temporary stage he’d had set up for the party’s entertainment. She wasn’t small, maybe just a few inches shorter than his six-foot frame, though it was hard to tell since she was wearing heels that inspired lust low in his belly.
His eyes traveled up the pale length of shapely calf and thigh to the sensuous blossom of her hip, the inviting dip into a slim waist that expanded back out again at the level of ample breasts, barely covered by slim strips of sparkling red material. She filled out that bodysuit in a way that made him stop breathing when he took a closer look. He licked his lips, wanting more than a bite.
She seemed surprised, as if she hadn’t expected the crowd—was she new to this? Maybe all performers had some stage fright before a performance, similar to the nervous energy he always experienced when going to court.
Then those supple red lips revealed a perfect smile. She said “Hi, there” in a sultry voice that fantasies were made of. His dick sprang instantly hard and he was thankful for the dark outfit and the cape.
The audience crowded inward, several whistles welcoming her. Her slow walk to center stage was the stuff of all men’s dreams. With a look at the band, and then back at the crowd before her, she winked. It might as well have been him standing there alone as aware as he was of anyone else—there was only her.
She was magic.
Who was this amazing woman? She ran through a little nervous patter, as if she was still getting used to the idea of being up on stage. It was utterly charming, only adding to her sex appeal. The crowd loved her before she’d even sung a note.