“Admiring her. That’s all.”
“Admire her for her merits, not for her ass.” Even though she had a fantastic derriere. If she were my girlfriend, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off it. For the best she wasn’t his girlfriend. “On that note, don’t you have a girlfriend?”
“What? That means I can’t look?”
“No, it means you need to mind where your eyes and hands wander before your cock follows. You’re dating a Simmons girl. Don’t piss off either her or her family, for all of our sakes.” The Simmons ran half of Brooklyn. There were so many up and coming neighborhoods in Brooklyn that Ken was salivating to get them on his listings. I already know what agents I would assign to what properties. Assuming David didn’t botch the whole thing by cheating on his meal ticket of a girlfriend.
“How about you? You’ve been single for a while.”
Single had such a loose definition. No, Ken did not have a woman he considered significant in his life. Not in that way. He dated some women here and there, but it never got farther than dinner and sex 90% of the time. Sometimes it was simply because he and his intended love interests did not click outside of the bedroom. Usually it was because Ken could not see himself putting any of his life on hold for these women. His career was getting started. Why would he jeopardize any of that for women who didn’t inspire him to do better in the first place?
“Not sure what you’re trying to imply,” Ken muttered.
“Please, man, you look at her the same way every other man in this room is looking at her. You’re going to tell me that you don’t want some of that?”
“No. I don’t want ‘some of that.’” What a crude way to put being with a woman. As if she were a piece of meat to be consumed between two pieces of bread for lunch. Ken was into a lot of hinky shit, but he wasn’t into that kind of play. What was with his fellow men and not knowing how to look at women as human beings?
So what if Lana Losers was the hottest woman in the room? Perhaps the hottest woman in New York City?
So what if she was incredibly successful at such a young age, by her own merit?
So what if Ken was already calculating how he could pay Roger Prescott the headhunter’s fee without looking desperate to both Mr. Lois and Mr. Bachman?
And so what if the longer he looked at Lana – from the back, no less – the more he wanted to run his hands up her sides and kiss the nape of her neck?
It wasn’t that he was beholden to someone else. It wasn’t that he didn’t think she was good enough for him. It wasn’t even that he was so single-minded at the moment that dating wasn’t even on his radar. Ken had his reasons for staying away from Lana right now, and they had nothing to do with those facts.
“Don’t you want her for our firm? I bet my dad would be pissed if he found out you had the chance to chat up the biggest agent in the region and didn’t.”
Ken glared at the young Bachman. Seriously. How am I only three years older than this guy? Ken would give David the benefit of the doubt and blame it on the shots. Not that Ken was bothered by the whisky he drank. All it did was make him feel more relaxed.
Lana finished her martini and pushed the glass aside, but not before pulling the olive out and absentmindedly sucking on it while watching the basketball game, one foot spinning in circles.
Lips as red as candy sucked that olive in a way a man could only interpret as delicious.
“Of course I want her for our firm, but we can’t play our hand so early, David.” Ken clapped him on the shoulder. “That would be silly. We let Prescott and Ms. Losers shop around a bit. Get to know our competition and what they have to offer. Then we swoop in with a better offer. Like the knights riding up to the castle to save the fair maiden from the terrible dragon.”
David chuckled. “I thought you said we shouldn’t look at her like that?”
Like how? Ken was staring at her again, admiring the way her hair slowly fell from her bun, making it messier and messier as the minutes went on. What did she look like with her hair down? Hell, what did she look like naked?
Damnit.
Ken picked up his glass. “You do have a point though, David. I should leave her with a good impression of us. On a personal level. That way when we broach something professional, she already has me – I mean us – on the brain.” He stood, checking to make sure his suit was presentable to a woman of Lana’s discretion. “Wait here, my good man. I am off to do some more networking.”