Dirty Work - Regina Kyle Page 0,26
a splash of ice-cold water to my libido, and reach under the table to surreptitiously adjust my jeans. When she finishes, she sits back and pushes her glass away with a satisfied sigh.
“What do you have against work?” I ask as a waitress drops off our entrées. Big, juicy cheeseburgers with thick-cut steak fries. Ainsley insisted on ordering for both of us, and I’m man enough to let her take the lead if that’s what she wants. I’ll have to put in some extra time at the gym to work off the carbs once my arm is out of this sling, but judging by the mouth-watering smells wafting from the plate in front of me, it’ll be worth it.
“I don’t have anything against work,” she insists. “But some people don’t know when to give it a rest. You know what they say. All work and no play makes Jake a dull boy.”
She crosses her legs, letting one sandal dangle from her prettily painted, cotton candy pink toes, and gives me a playful, come-hither stare over her burger that’s enough to make me forget we’re in the middle of a crowded restaurant. I’m about to haul her across the table, onlookers be damned, and remind her how not dull I can be, but I don’t get the chance. Marilyn’s on the prowl, looking for her next unsuspecting target, and she’s heading my way. The next thing I know, she’s got her boa wrapped around my neck while she sings in my ear about Tiffany and Cartier and rocks that are square cut or pear-shaped.
Some guys might feel threatened by having a drag queen hang all over them, but not me. I’m secure enough in my masculinity to laugh and play along. Marilyn finishes the number with a flourish, thanks me for being a good sport, and moves on, and I turn my attention back to Ainsley, who’s munching on her burger with a bemused smile on her face.
“Still think I’m dull?” I ask, popping a fry into my mouth.
“I never said you were dull.” She dabs at the corner of her mouth with her napkin, mischief dancing in her eyes. “Exactly.”
Her phone chimes from the depths of her purse, and she reaches inside to dig it out.
“Shit,” she mutters as she reads the screen, her face suddenly serious, all traces of amusement gone. “I have to take this.”
“Let me guess. Work.”
She nods, at least having the good grace to look ashamed.
“Who’s the dull one now?” I tease as I take a bite of another steak fry. I haven’t braved the burger yet. The thing’s the size of a small car. I’m still trying to figure out how I’m going to manage it one-handed.
“I’m sorry. It’ll just take a second.”
She ducks outside to take the call. When she returns a few minutes later, a worried frown creases her forehead.
“Is everything all right?” I ask as she slides back into her seat.
She shakes her head. A lock of hair escapes from her ever-present ponytail, and she tucks it behind her ear. “I have to cover for Erin. She’s stuck on the subway. I hate to eat and run, but I’ve got to get downtown before three to pick up a penis cake.”
“A what?” I must have heard her wrong. There’s no way she just said what I thought she said.
“A penis cake.”
Nope. I definitely heard it right the first time.
“It’s for a bachelorette party,” she explains between bites of her burger. “They’ve got a penthouse suite at the Soho Grand. I’m supposed to pick up the cake, bring it there and get started on the decorations.”
“Decorations?”
“More penises. The maid of honor’s seriously obsessed with them. She had us order penis lollipops, penis confetti, penis shot glasses, even a six-foot blow-up penis that I don’t know and don’t want to know what they plan on using for.”
“Sounds delightful.” And by delightful, I mean scary as shit. A six-foot penis. How’s a guy supposed to compete with that?
Ainsley polishes off the last of her burger and pushes her plate away. “Sorry for cutting our lunch short. But don’t worry. I should be able to get to your place in time to take Roscoe out before it gets dark.”
She stands, and I follow suit. My parents’ dog is the last thing on my mind right now. It’s hard for me to concentrate on anything at the moment except the woman across from me. She’s doing something with her mouth that’s damn distracting.
“Hold up. I’ll go with