1
“Did you lose a bet?”
Arnie blinked and put down the menu he was studying when a golden-haired waitress drew his attention with the question and a stifled laugh.
Looking up from his seat at a corner table, he experienced an extrasensory jolt when their gazes locked. She had sweeping eyelashes and extraordinary smoky blue gray eyes. The charming innocence he saw looking back stopped him dead.
“A bet?” he stammered. “I’m sorry?”
The blond beauty’s smile widened as she pointed at the floor. “Those shoes are not your friend.” She chuckled.
His eyes dropped to his feet. It took a moment for understanding to knock him up the side of the head.
“Oh, right.” He snorted and made a comical face. “The shoes. There’s an explanation,” he told her.
“Not that I have room to talk,” she dryly replied while motioning to her footwear.
He laughed when she shoe-modeled a pair of Vans covered in colorful red chilies and green cacti.
“They pair well with the atmosphere.” He said with a growing smile.
“Santa thought the same thing. Christmas gift,” she explained.
He had a hard time dragging his eyes away from her legs. Studying her shoes was just an excuse to ogle her smooth, bare calves and trim ankles. It was the chain around her ankle that rendered him stupid. And the tiny sunflower tattoo.
“Etsy,” she announced without prompting. “The butterfly chain,” she explained. “I thought pairing it with the sunflower was cool.”
“Coming through,” a voice called out as a waiter balancing a large tray moved past followed by a busboy carrying a tray stand.
The interruption reset their interaction. “Do you know what you want?” she asked. “I recommend everything, but the kitchen hit it out of the park today with the Baja fish tacos. I had two just a little while ago.”
He ordered the tacos and unashamedly watched her ass when she turned and walked away. The erotically charged filthy thought that followed involved the pretty waitress’s whimpers as he deep stroked her from behind while demanding she keep her head down and ass up.
The annoying buzz of his phone earned it a malicious glare. He briefly considered standing up and hurling the fucking thing against a mural-painted wall and would have too if he wasn’t positive he’d end up getting arrested for it. The elaborately painted matador seemed to raise his brows at Arnie’s dark thought.
Pretending he could ignore both the phone call and his family was a way of blowing sunshine up his own ass. Nobody was fooled by the indifferent act he put on, but the charade was necessary for his peace of mind.
Sighing, he looked at the screen and groaned. Fuck. His father. There was no other choice than to answer.
“Dad, I’ve only got a minute. What do you need?” He regretted his grumpy tone, but for real, now was not the time.
“Easy, my boy.” His dad chuckled. “Can’t you see I’m waving a white flag. I just wanted to check in and make sure you haven’t changed your name and gone underground.”
“It’s tempting, believe me. Being a card-carrying Wanamaker isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
“Money and power. Not everyone wears privilege the same way.”
“I’m fine, Dad. I just could not listen to Cousin Carl’s hernia experience again or give a shit about how recuperating made him miss his annual Montana snowmobile adventure.”
A sigh came through the phone. “Aunt Lou was concerned when you left.”
Arnie adored Aunt Lou. She was nuts but in a humorously good way. His dad’s sister had a full life and did not coast on her wealth or status. She ran a boutique in West Hollywood, specializing, among other things, in custom-created designer knockoffs. It sounded tacky, but her discreet services were in high demand by half of Beverly Hills and most of Hollywood. Her client list included British royalty and several Middle East princesses.
Celebrity aside, Lou also collected teapots and displayed them museum-style in an elaborate walk-in display case the size of his large NIGHTWIND office. She knew how to dress up quirkiness to make it socially acceptable, and if that wasn’t a superpower, he didn’t know what was.
“Tell her I’m taco loading and will be fine once I get the family stench off me.”
“Good enough. I’ll let you get back to it. Don’t worry about Darnell Senior. I’ll tell him you’re sightseeing. See you in the morning when the lawyers and financial wizards do their annual dog and pony performance.”
“I was thinking about calling out sick.”
“Nice try but no sympathy. You can miss the flower-arranging workshop and avoid