trying to get your attention,” I said. I had glanced over quickly and seen that Adam was grinning at us and gesturing for Mark to join them. Braden looked deep in thought but he was also looking at
me.
My tummy fluttered.
“I’ll relay your position, Gab,” he said with a smile. “We public defenders have to stick together.” Mark was a champion negotiator. I didn’t exactly anticipate success but at least I was in the best hands possible. If I ever committed a felony, (and mind you, the night was still young), I wanted Mark in my corner. When he left I decided to take advantage of Jess and I being left alone to hold a conference and I leaned across the table, speaking in a conspiratorial tone while breathing tequila fumes into her face.
“So, you really think that Mr. Player over there might agree to date me?”
“Anything’s possible. Take off your jacket, by the way.”
“Why? The air conditioning is set to subarctic.”
“Just do it. All the booze you’ve been drinking should keep you warm.” I slid my suit jacket off, hanging it on the back of my chair. I was a little self-conscious because the white sleeveless shell I had on underneath was snug, and it made me look like a waitress at Hooters, but the beer and tequila were really kicking in and so my self-consciousness was diminishing rapidly. Alcohol will do that too.
“What if he still isn’t interested in anything but a one night stand though?” I asked. I had a quick flashback to my humiliating college experience. “I sense much awkwardness on the horizon.”
“Then he isn’t interested. You didn’t ask him out. He asked you to hook up and you turned him down but said you
might
consider dating him. Big deal. Now let your hair down.”
“What, am I going to bed?”
“Maybe – depends on what they come back with. Don't question it, just trust me.” I sighed and reached up to do it. It felt good to take my hair down out of its elastic band and I shook it out and let it fall freely down my back and over my shoulders. Then I ran my hands through it to straighten it out a little.
“Anything else while I’m undressing?”
“Nope. That will do,” she said with a smirk. “I think he's adjusting himself under the table.” I noticed that at the angle she was sitting she could see the other table out of the corner of her eye.
“Braden? He was watching me do this?”
“Yep. Now that you've announced that he's man enough to handle your mouth he’s barely looked anywhere else. He probably wants to throw you down on that table and make you see God.”
“Well, at least we have that in common. He’s not talking to Mark?”
“He’s listening to Mark while watching you. It looks like they’re engaged in some pretty intense discussion. It should be interesting to see if he’s going to go for it.”
Before I could ask her what she meant we were descended upon by herds of semi-drunken guys in business suits who had caught sight of us sitting alone. (Sometimes the hungry lions came to the baby gazelle.) One by one, and sometimes two by two, a steady stream of males smelling of beer, scotch, rum and various other potent potables, were stopping by to say hi and introduce themselves. They attempted to chat us up, buy us drinks, and stare at our boobs. I needed a whip and a chair. I was afraid that the whip might attract more of them, though, or at least the kinky ones. In between fending them off, we continued to talk.
“The problem is that I don’t know what to say to him beyond making snarky comments.” I was starting to sound panicky.
“What are you so nervous about? It's not like you've never attracted a guy before, Gabrielle. At least ten have tried to pick you up since Mark left the table”
“He's so sexy, Jess. He probably dated entire sororities in college.”
“More likely they just blew him in the bathroom. If he asks you out on a date, Gab, then he seriously likes you. He doesn’t date. He fucks.”
“So, why are