“Well, the string of pearls attaches the front to the back.”
His neck flushed a bright shade of red, and he exploded his hands open near his head. “Mind blown. I’ve seen a lot, but nothing like this.”
Crossing the kitchen, she took the bottle and filled their glasses, keeping his in her left hand. Thanks to the red crystal, nothing suspect was remotely visible. She passed one to him, and he gulped it like water. “It’s well made too,” she said in an even voice, as though they were discussing salad spinners. “That’s what made me think this company might be worth a look.”
“I think you could make a killing if you do couples’ parties. Any guy would love to buy stuff like this for his girlfriend.”
“Wine’s not bad either,” she said, pouring a touch more into her glass. “Care to have another little slug?”
“Sure, just a bit. And then I’m going to have to ask you to go. My meeting.” His lip curled in what she supposed was his attempt at a seductive smile. “Or you could stay in the bedroom and model these for me when we’re finished.” He held up the undies with a finger. “I see what you’re doing here.”
Her mind raced. Shit. She should’ve known he would assume she wanted to seduce him. In a quick move, she filled his glass almost to the top and looked at him from beneath her lashes. “Is it that obvious? I really treasure your advice. You’re one of the smartest men I know.” How long was it going to take for the pills to kick in? If the investor arrived when he was still up, her plan would fail. She should’ve tripled the dose.
He gulped down the wine. “Let’s cut the bullshit. You want me. I’ve seen the way you look at me.”
It was stupid on her part not to have considered this outcome. Now she was treading on shaky ground, and her usually keen mind was stuck. She lowered her eyes to the table and began sweeping the items into the bag, buying time. “You’re so smart, Jonathan,” she said in a low voice. “And way out of my league. I really just wanted your advice. When I have a party, will you come? I’ll invite some of my niece’s friends to model the lingerie. You would like that, right?”
“I didn’t know you have a niece,” he said slowly. “I’ll come to the par . . . party. Lem . . . Lemme know.”
Pretending not to notice his slurring, she said, “Sure. You’ll be the first on my list.”
“I’ve go a lot of frenz . . .” His head bobbed forward and jerked back.
“Yes, I’m sure you do.” She waited, watching him.
“Are you my fren?” he asked, his eyes drooping. She had to work quickly now, or he’d pass out on the floor. And the investor would be here any second.
She took his arm, keeping behind him, and ushered him to the bedroom. “I’m your friend.”
“Thanz, Syl—Syl-vi-a.”
“Let’s just go lie down for a few minutes. A quick nap will have you feeling a lot better. It looks like you’re coming down with a cold. Maybe you caught a virus during your travels.”
“No, nooo. I’m zokay,” he slurred.
She didn’t argue. It wouldn’t do any good. She’d learned that from an old boyfriend who’d taken to mixing vodka with Ambien, so she simply pushed him onto the bed. Just as she’d predicted, he was out cold in seconds, his feet hanging off the side of the bed. In a quick move, she hoisted them up with the rest of his body. Thank goodness he was thin. Lugging that ex of hers had always left her breathless and her shirts marred with ugly sweat stains.
A loud knock sounded, startling her. Dammit! She hadn’t had a chance to clean up. But she couldn’t wait. She rushed from the room, pulling the door closed behind her. She eyed the kitchen and grabbed Jonathan’s wineglass, rolling it beneath the sofa on the way to the door.
“This is it,” she said to herself. “Showtime.”
The bell chimed as she yanked the door open, and she winced, hoping it wouldn’t wake Jonathan. “Can I help you?” she asked in a not-too-friendly tone.
“Hi, I’m Frank Overland. I have a meeting scheduled with Jonathan Fisher about the complex.” He smiled politely. “Is he here?”
Her heart was racing, but she had to pull this off. It would be best to let the man think she was upset about Jonathan. “Well,”