“Oh? You said you weren’t a boring woman, so I expect this to be good.”
Jasmine squared her shoulders. “I did a lot of tiring things this week. I had a lot of work.”
“And what does a non-boring woman such as yourself do?”
“Administration. For a big office. Sometimes I feel like the boss’s personal assistant.”
“Is your boss an asshole?”
Jasmine had to be careful. For all she knew this guy knew her boss. “He can be. He likes to order me around a lot. Beyond what is kosher for someone in his position.”
“Business can stress a guy out. Don’t be too hard on him for being hard on you.”
“Whatever.” Jasmine took a drink. “Besides work, I also did so much cleaning this week. And gardening. It’s a tough life.”
“I see…”
“You ever give a cat a bath before?”
Ethan closed his mouth, his eyes full of bemusement instead of curiosity. “A cat bath…”
“It’s nearly impossible. My little guy likes to roll around in the garden, so he was in desperate need of a bath… I did everything the vet told me to do, and he still did this.” Jasmine turned her arm over to show a scratch she sustained from her cat Blackbeard’s trauma earlier that week. Ethan looked at it, almost impressed. “Heartbreaking.”
“I’m sorry your fuzzy child hurt you so.”
“He’s not the only one. There’s a gaggle of kittens at my place too. Not his!” No, she would not besmirch her cat’s good name. He’s neutered anyway. Maybe that was the real reason for scratching her up. “I found some kittens a few weeks back. Adorable guys, but it’s so much work taking care of them.”
“Maybe you should give them away. Or sell them.”
Money-minded man, huh? Of course he was. “That’s what the people I live with want. None of them were keen on a bunch of kittens taking over the place. Luckily, it’s a big place.”
“Oh? I didn’t know there were big places around here.”
“You’ve got it wrong. You have to live out of the city for a big place.”
“You live outside of the city?”
Calm down, Mr. Stalker. “I share a place up in the Hills with some other folks.” The commute was rough when she wanted to get downtown, but she couldn’t say no to the cheaper living. Plus all that space for cats. I’m a crazy cat lady. There. I said it. Her and Blackbeard would grow old together. The only man who could truly appreciate her skills in the kitchen – namely her fantastic ability to pull the top off a can.
Ethan leaned both elbows against the bar counter and took a long, long drink. When he put his glass back down it was nearly empty. “The Hills are expensive from what I hear. CEOs, celebrities, and politicians.” He glanced at her, taking the time to absorb what she wore that night: a body-hugging red dress. Simple, but glamorous, a style that showed off her assets without being vulgar. My plans must come to fruition, and my wardrobe helps me with that. If Ethan McDreamy wasn’t smitten with her fine hair and outfit, then there wasn’t much more Jasmine could do. She was under no delusion that a man she picked up in a bar would be into her personality and smashing long-term goals. Nope. Dude like him was going to judge her on every superficial thing there was. At least she did her best to look her, well, best.
“That is some seriously nice jewelry you’re wearing there, Miss Jasmine.”
She touched her hand to her pendant, a simple ruby hanging from a gold chain. That same hand bore a ruby ring, and her ears, wrist, and even hair boasted more rubies than she could ever wear most days. Today is special. Today she wanted to feel special, and she hoped Ethan would help make that happen. “You like it? I took you for a guy who likes red.” No she didn’t.
“May I?” He held his hand up toward her chest, but did not proceed until Jasmine nodded in careful permission. Although she was up for this man grabbing her chest eventually, she preferred to take things slowly first. Seduce him, then fuck him senseless.
Ethan took the pendant between his fingertips, his brows furrowing and lips pursing as he concentrated on the cut and quality. Jasmine took the opportunity to stand up straight and jut her chest out. If she were male, she’d feel like a peacock out strutting his stuff, luring in those mates while feeling like the baddest bitch around. “It’s real,” she said.
His face did not let up. “You sure about that?”
Jasmine grimaced. “What are you talking about? The whole set is real!” She shook his hands away so she could show Ethan the other trinkets on her body. “Someone very important gave them to me. So don’t try telling me that they’re fake.”
“Sorry. I must not know what I’m talking about.” Ethan finished his drink with nary another look in Jasmine’s direction. “At least now I know for sure.”
“Know what?” Jasmine’s drink had been untouched throughout this conversation, and now she wondered if she should down it in one gulp.
Ethan snorted into his empty glass. “That you’re an expensive woman.”
“Well, now…” That was an odd thing to say about somebody. I don’t think of myself as expensive. Jasmine certainly didn’t have expensive tastes. If anything, her hippie parents raised her to eschew most material things in favor of living a plain, frugal life. Her parents also didn’t have ruby jewelry.
“A woman I can’t afford, I’m afraid. It was nice of you to keep me company, though.”
Jasmine was permanently stuck to her seat. “Can’t… afford…”
Ethan shrugged. “I may be too rich for my own good, but I’m afraid that I lost my wallet earlier today. No cards. No checks. And definitely no cash. Sorry. Unless you open up a tab for me, I can’t afford what you’re offering.”
He ordered another drink, and Jasmine had to wait for the bartender to go away again before she thought up something to reply with. “I’m not a prostitute!” she hissed.
“I wouldn’t dream of calling you one. I thought you lot went by ‘escorts’ these days.”
Words fumbled on Jasmine’s tongue as she attempted to spit them out. “I’m not… no… what the hell…”
“Oh! My apologies, then. It’s just the only single women who come through a lounge like this are usually looking to hit up a man for some… you know.”
He said it so casually, and yet Jasmine could only sit and stare at that striking profile and perfectly placed black hair. Ethan drank as if he had not insulted her honor. Okay, so Jasmine was out to score some from a hottie. A rich hottie was a bonus. Did that mean it was all right to imply that she was exchanging her body for money? The nerve!
Jasmine slipped off her seat. If she had a bag on the counter she would rip it right off for effect. “You, sir, are making things very difficult for me right now.”
Ethan held up his hand in an attempt to soothe her outburst. “I said I was sorry.”
“You’ve got me wrong!” The few remaining patrons in the hotel lounge glanced at them before going back to their business. They probably think he’s my pimp! What a night. “I’m not looking for money. I wasn’t even looking for a free drink.”
The way Ethan leaned against the counter almost made him look like he was bored. “Then what were you looking for?”
Jasmine took a leap of faith and poked him right in the chest. Damn hard pecs! Because of course he had them! “You know what I was looking for.” She cut him off before he could open his mouth again. “Without compensation.”
Ethan would see. She was far from expensive. Jasmine was quite the opposite of expensive. She was one cheap girl giving away everything for free. Surely, Mr. Lost Wallet could afford that.
***
“Snazzy,” Jasmine said as she entered the executive suite behind Ethan. “So this is how a megarich businessman stays in town.”
She stepped out of the entryway and surveyed the large room. It wasn’t massive, but it had a separate sitting room and master bedroom in the back. The centerpiece was a fake fireplace with a large flatscreen TV hanging above it, as if rich guys passing through only cared about gas fires and football. Or Bloomberg. Is it a split screen that can show both? Not that Jasmine wanted to watch stock prices or football plays. She had other things on her mind.
“Megarich?” Ethan tossed his room key onto a dresser and poured himself a drink from the complimentary bar. More scotch, from the looks of it. “I don’t know about that. I also don’t know how much money you seem to think I have. Either way, you’re probably a gold digger.”
Jasmine pretended she didn’t hear that. She sat on the edge of a plush beige chair and massaged her ankles, which were currently tied up in a pair of strappy red heels. Men liked heels. She had it on good authority. They’re not super comfy though. The price a woman paid for style and seduction. “How long you in town for?”
“What difference does it make?” Ethan stood in front of a mirror and watched himself drink his scotch. Or so Jasmine thought until she realized he was looking at her reflection. “I’m only going to see you tonight.”