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Write It Up!: Rapid Transit / The Ex Factor / Brewing Up Trouble. Elizabeth BevarlyЧитать онлайн книгу.

Write It Up!: Rapid Transit / The Ex Factor / Brewing Up Trouble - Elizabeth Bevarly


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up being the most luscious treat. He quickly scanned the list of dates he’d had so far tonight. Man, the way things were going, she’d be his only treat from this batch. Not that he hadn’t checked off a number of names. But few of them were women he really, truly wanted to, ah, meet. Even for the sake of his article.

      He was thankful—and not a little surprised—that the subject of careers hadn’t come up while he was talking to Julia 6. So far this evening he’d managed to muddle his way through that mine-filled swamp by lying through his teeth. No way could he tell these women his editor’s most recent assignment was a story about the potential for racking up one-night stands through speed-dating events. That was guaranteed to ensure no-night stands with the women Daniel was targeting for his story.

      There was something about Julia 6, though, that made him think she’d be difficult to lie to. He couldn’t imagine what. He’d gotten extremely good at lying to women, even before he attended his first speed-dating party a week ago.

      As if he needed something like speed-dating to fuel-inject his love life. Not that his love life contained anything remotely resembling love.

      Sex life, he corrected himself. There. That was more like it. And Julia 6 was going to be a very nice addition to it. Even better, he suspected, than the two women with whom he’d had success at the event last week. And certainly better than the other women he also planned to score with at tonight’s.

      When Daniel emerged from the men’s room, he scanned the crowd until he located Julia 6, at the exact moment she spotted him. They grinned at each other the moment their gazes connected, and, as one, they began to cross the room toward each other. They met precisely in the middle, but not before Daniel noticed what extraordinary legs she had under her short, frilly dress, and how nicely they complemented her incredible breasts.

      What was weird, though, was that his gaze kept traveling upward and landed above her neck, and that was where it ultimately stayed. Yeah, her face was as extraordinary as the rest of her, but it was something in her wide green eyes that really captivated him. Not the gaudy, glittery shadow he’d seen turning up on so many women lately, but the fact that the gaudy, glittery shadow seemed so out of place on her. Even weirder was that Daniel usually liked to see women wearing a lot of makeup, but now he found himself wanting to know what Julia 6 looked like without it.

      The dress, too, as nice as it looked on her, made him wonder what she looked like out of it. And not naked out, but wearing-something-more-casual out. Which was the weirdest thing of all.

      “How many names have you checked off so far?” he asked when they came to a stop in front of each other.

      She didn’t even look at her list before telling him, “Only one.”

      “What a coincidence,” he said. “I’ve only checked off one name, too.” The lie left an immediate bad taste in his mouth, surprising him. What the hell was up with that? Why did he feel so guilty all of a sudden? He was only doing his job, for chrissakes. “I wish we could leave right now,” he added. That, at least, was the truth.

      He could tell by her expression she felt the same way. In spite of that, she said, “I can’t. I really need to see this through to the end.”

      “Me, too,” he told her. Then, because for some reason he felt that it was necessary to embellish his lie, he added, “For my buddy, I mean. But we should be out of here by eleven,” he added. “What are you doing afterward?”

      Her eyes widened in surprise at the invitation. “I, um, I really don’t have any plans,” she said.

      “Let’s have a drink.”

      She expelled a soft little sound of surprise that he found strangely erotic. “O-okay,” she agreed.

      The bell rang to notify everyone that intermission was drawing to a close, and Daniel really needed another drink before facing round two. “Just meet me downstairs in the lobby when it’s over,” he said. “You need a drink before you head back into the fray?”

      Her expression made him think she was a little flustered by the speed at which things between the two of them were progressing. Which was good, he thought. Why should he be the only one here who felt muddle-headed?

      She nodded. “Please. An appletini.”

      “Not a cosmo?” he asked. After all, that was what all the other women he’d met tonight had been drinking.

      She shook her head this time. “Too trendy. I don’t like to be like everyone else.”

      He shrugged off the strange irritation that settled on his shoulders at hearing her say that. And it bothered him even more to realize the irritation he felt was for himself. “Consider it done,” he said.

      With that, Daniel took off for the bar and Julia 6’s appletini. Surely that was going to be the next trendy beverage of choice for party-girl barflies, he told himself as he went. Because in spite of the naturalness with which they’d connected, and in spite of the ease with which he’d talked to her, and in spite of his singular reaction to her, he reminded himself that Julia 6 was like every other woman.

      And damned if he wouldn’t prove it tonight.

      BY MIDNIGHT, JULIA AND Daniel were talking again, with a lot more than four minutes allotted them, at Marquee, arguably New York’s hottest club. She watched as the bartender placed an appletini and a Scotch and water on the bar before Daniel, who dropped a twenty and a ten beside them to cover the twenty-two-dollar tab, telling the bartender to keep the change. Another gold star, she thought, for the generous tip.

      And yet another for the fact that the two of them had been talking naturally and comfortably about everything under the sun since leaving the speed-dating party, without a single awkward moment to muck things up. Julia couldn’t remember the last time she’d been able to talk to a guy with such ease right after meeting him, and she was perfectly content to keep doing it. Talking, she meant. Not, you know, doing it. And looking at Daniel, she could see that he was perfectly content to keep doing it, too. Talking, she meant. Not the other thing. Which earned him yet another gold star beside his name.

      At this rate, by night’s end, he was going to be his own galaxy.

      After collecting their respective drinks, they threaded their way through the throngs of people milling about beneath the boxy yellow-gold lights, until, miraculously, they saw a couple surrendering a table to their right and quickly ducked into it. But instead of sitting opposite each other, they made a silent but unified decision to fold themselves onto the sleek, red-leather banquette by the wall, side by side.

      The music wasn’t blaring quite as loudly here, and they wouldn’t have to shout at each other to talk. Despite that, when they first sat down, they only sipped their drinks and gazed at each other for a moment, as if neither could believe how quickly the night had moved. Julia hated to think about it ending. Then she wondered just how it would end. And if it would still be night—or morning—when it did.

      She shook the thought off. No matter how comfortable she felt with Daniel, she barely knew him. Glancing down at her watch, she told herself to find out everything she could ASAP.

      “So…what do you do for a living?” she asked, surprised that neither of their occupations had come up yet in conversation.

      That was good, though, right? That they’d had so much else to talk about, they hadn’t even touched on what was usually the first thing two people getting to know each other discussed.

      She wasn’t sure, but she thought his smile fell just the tiniest bit as she concluded the question, and he seemed to hesitate for a moment before replying, “I’m sort of self-employed.”

      For the first time since meeting him, Julia felt a hint of dismay. Had he sounded evasive just then? He’d been answering her other questions straight to the point all evening. Why not now?

      “Doing what?” she asked. Surely she’d only imagined his hesitation. It depended on what he was self-employed as. If he said he was a male escort, she could see where it was coming from. And


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