She's Got Dibs (4 page)

Her heart fluttered at his nearness. Perhaps the time had nearly arrived she do something about all this…

“Okay.” She sat up and scanned the crowd. Three seats to her right sat a gentleman she estimated in his late fifties—plaid sport coat, shirt unbuttoned to mid-chest, several gold chains decorating the tufts of his curly, gray chest hair. Gold rings adorned each of his pinkies, the diamonds flashing when he swirled a large snifter of what appeared to be brandy. The seat beside him was occupied by a woman who looked half his age, the plunging neckline of her dress doing a pathetic job of supporting her ample bosom. Her lips were overly plump, her hair bleached blonde, and she sported a diamond the size of Alaska on her left ring finger.

Tessa tipped her head in their direction. “You see that guy?”

Dibs peered past her down the bar. “With the blonde and the bad toupee?”

She huffed. “Category two, the Everyman. He started out with good intentions, a wife and kids, working hard to support his family, until one day he decided he was miserable. What followed was a midlife crisis. He traded in the sedan for a sports car and started frequenting nightclubs. That’s where he met the bombshell. The rest is obvious. Divorce, followed by an engagement, and now he spends his days regretting his choices and missing his kids, wondering how he’ll ever satisfy the voracious appetites of a twenty-something.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’d rather stay single.”

Dibs’s brows rose toward the devilish cowlick at his hairline. “You got all that just sitting here?”

“My job requires me to read people.”

“Really…do another one.”

She gauged his interest before resuming her search. Straight across the bar sat a young man in a tailored business suit, open laptop on the bar in front of him, a cell phone pressed to his ear. He rubbed his forehead, and Tessa would’ve placed bets the clear liquid in the glass beside him was seltzer water.

“You see that frantic kid at the end of the bar?”

Dibs nodded.

“Category four, the Entrepreneur. He’s working two deals right now, both on the brink of disaster because he missed his flight. If at least one doesn’t come through, he won’t be able to pay for that suit he’s wearing. Failure is not an option. His work is his life, it defines him.”

“How do you know that?”

“I’m an entrepreneur, remember? I’ve been there. And contrary to popular belief, two of us under the same roof does not a good relationship make.” She swallowed the last remnants of her martini and eased the second one forward.

“And there’s a category three.” She sighed, flicking her eyes toward the hostess station. “Otherwise known as the Too-Good.”

Dibs swiveled in his chair.

She leaned close and whispered in his ear. “I can tell what he’s thinking, with his impeccable taste and flawlessly coifed wife. How did all of us get seated before him? It’s preposterous. The manager’s head will roll!” She snorted and rolled her eyes. “His mother probably told him he was better than everyone, doted on his every need. Now anything less than perfection is
simply unacceptable
.”

Dibs searched her face a moment before laughter burst from his throat. “You’re too much.”

“Wait…here they come.”

The couple was led to a nearby table, the man muttering the entire time. He briskly flipped open the sides of his suit jacket and aimed a finger at the table, frowning up at the hostess.

“I’ll be damned,” Dibs whispered.

“He’s a pompous ass.”

He refocused on her. “Fascinating…”

Tessa relaxed back in her chair. She’d given him a small bit of insight, now it was his turn. “So, do you live in Chicago?”

“Most of the time. I have a home there.”

“Uh-huh, and where do you live the other times?”

“My parents have a home in Martha’s Vineyard. I spend some time there.” He paused, tapping the bottom edge of his glass on the napkin. “And then there’s the chalet in Vail, for when I’m in the mood to ski.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. Exactly how long was the list? She ate another olive, twirling her hand forward.

“And the villa in Saint Tropez.”

“Is that it?”

“There’s also a house in San Luis Obispo, but I haven’t spent too much time there.”

Bottom lip jutted forward, she appraised this newest bit of information. “So, with all these fabulous places to go, why are you sitting in a hotel bar in New York?”

“Because I’m talking to you.”

She scolded his diversion tactic with a glare from under her brows. “Flattering, but that doesn’t explain why you were on a commercial flight, instead of flying off somewhere in your private jet.”

“I had a meeting in New York today, just like you,” he said quietly. “And I’m trying to get home. Just like you.”

“Oh.” Her cheeks warmed with embarrassment and she grimaced. Evidently the man wasn’t interested in putting on airs…or flaunting his money simply because he could. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply anything…I mean, I didn’t mean to be a smartass…or anything.”

“You weren’t. I was just telling the truth, like we agreed.”

“It’s the vodka.” She stared into her martini. “I tend to get a bit belligerent when I drink.”

“Well, then, maybe we should call your boyfriend over and order some dinner.” He tipped his head toward the bartender.

“Ooh, that was a low blow.” She squinted in feigned annoyance even as relief sidled through her chest. He could’ve easily called the whole thing quits.

“What category do you think he is?”

“Well, for starters, he’s a five.” She balanced her elbow on the bar, her chin resting on her knuckles.

“Uh-oh, what’s a five?”

“The biggest category, unfortunately. The Buffoon.”

Dibs barked a laugh. “Why do I suddenly get the impression all men start out in that category?”

“Most do…” She peeked at him from the corner of her eye. “But not every man.”

“Then why is he automatically a five?”

Her attention circled around to the bartender. “Well, he’s obviously flirting with me.”

“Oh great. And that makes him a five?”

A low chuckle caressed the back of her throat. That was very good. He was sharp. “Not necessarily. But how does he know we’re not together?”

“I thought we were together.”

“I know, I know.” She waved away his comment. “I mean
together
, together. After all, you took my key card out of your pocket, yet he still makes an ass of himself by flirting with me in front of you.”

“Oh, I get it. But he’s not
only
a category five?”

“Let’s find out, shall we?” Arching a clever eyebrow, she crooked a finger at the bartender.

He set down the glass he was drying and hurried over.

“Hi.” She sat forward, crossing her arms along the bar. “I’m sorry, what was your name?”

“Doug.” The bartender smiled and braced his hands on either side of her elbows, shortening the distance between them.

“Hi, Doug, my name’s Tessa. I’m curious. Is bartending your full-time job, or is there something else you also do?”

“Oh, I only do this part time. I’m actually in a band. We play over at the Alphabet Lounge every Thursday. You should come check us out sometime.”

She slowly faced Dibs. Yep. Typical five. Consistently sidetracked by the anatomy in his pants. Coupled with how he was also a category one, only a single option truly remained.

She fisted the lapels of Dibs’s suit and yanked him forward, caught a breath, and crushed her lips to his, inviting him to join her in a passionate kiss.

He hesitated the briefest second before his mouth parted. The tip of his tongue brushed hers. The scotch on his breath filled her senses. She became rapt as he lingered, sweeping his lips back and forth. A thrill coursed her stomach when his hand met her lower back and he urged her closer.

Their tongues dueled and danced. His heated sigh washed the curve of her cheek. He tipped his head and dove deep, sipping at her mouth, his tongue swirling and exploring every inch she offered. The sweet swell of his full bottom lip brushed up over hers once, twice, and the world teetered precariously off-balance.

She pulled away, but he followed, pressing a soft kiss to her lips once more before she swiveled back to the bartender. Dibs smoothed his hand up between her shoulder blades, and warmth flooded her thighs when his fingers tangled in her hair.

“Does that invitation include my husband, Doug? Or was it only for me?”

The bartender’s jaw hung slack as an unhinged gate.

“We would like to order some food now, Doug.” She clasped her hands under her chin, batting her lashes. “Do you think you could bring us a menu?”

“Sure,” he murmured. He slid a resentful frown at Dibs before slouching away.

“Wow.” Dibs braced his elbow on the bar, one leg trapping the front of her knees, the other pressed along the length of her thigh. “I like it when you get belligerent.”

“A category five with category one tendencies.” She swirled her drink. “The Starving Artist. He’s loads of fun, but lives in a dump, is disorganized, and very passionate.” She filled her lungs, exhaling loudly. “Sadly, extreme passion has its pitfalls.
That
was a lesson I had to learn the hard way.”

“If you want to kiss me again when he comes back over, just go ahead. You don’t need to ask or anything.”

She shot a shrewd glance his way, and uncontrolled laughter bubbled up her throat over how her lipstick had coated his mouth in a glossy pink shine. She plucked his handkerchief from his breast pocket and offered it to him. “You have a little smudge there.” She pointed to her own lips.

Dibs discarded the handkerchief on the bar and drew near, his hand sure and strong on her back. “Here he comes,” he whispered. A tip of his head, and his lips became caught up with hers.

Tessa closed her eyes as he landed feather light kisses, again and again. His hand edged higher. Arousal sparked and sizzled down her spine when his fingers clasped the base of her neck. He tugged her into the wall of his chest, deepened their kiss, his tongue shuttling slow and smooth against hers. Excitement shivered the hair on her arms. The noise from the crowd faded into the distance.

She cupped his cheek and became lost in the warm strength of his arm around her shoulders, the heady allure of his cologne, the stubble on his upper lip when he nibbled the corners of her mouth and his beard grazed her skin.

He slowly eased back, brushing a subtle kiss across her lips before moving away. His hand remained where it was.

She blinked. “Are you—”

His fingers tightened and he dragged her to his lips, kissing her once, twice, before his hand slowly combed down the length of her hair.

She cleared her throat and shook her head to clear the incredible rush that had just surged through her body. “Are you starting a pattern here?”

“I’m just trying to be an attentive husband.” He darted close and stole another kiss.

“Very funny.” Her hand trembled as she lifted her martini.

Two menus sat on the bar in front of them…and she had a phone call to make. Before things went any further some reconnaissance was in order. “I’m going to excuse myself for the ladies’ room.”

Dibs quickly stood, offering his hand to help her off the high chair. “Hurry back, sweetheart!” he called.

She spun around on unsteady legs and inclined her head at his clever remark. First pointing at his handkerchief resting on the bar, she rotated her hand and aimed a finger at her own lips. “You’re a mess.” She turned to go, and then hesitated. “Oh, and darling…”

Dibs peered at her from under his brows. He grinned.

“Go ahead and order. You know what I like.”

Chapter Three

Tessa pushed into the bathroom, approached the row of sinks…and slumped. Her lipstick wasn’t even
close
to where it belonged. She locked onto her green eyes in the mirror, but they revealed nothing. It simply wasn’t there yet. Balancing her purse on the edge of the counter, she dug past her wallet for her cell phone.

“TNT Entertainment,” Tiffany answered.

“Why are you still at the office?” She plucked a tissue from the box on the counter.

“I was just leaving. Where are you?”

“In the bathroom. Hey, I need you to do me a favor. Go online and Google this name…you ready?”

“Hold on a sec, let me get back to my computer. Okay, go ahead.”

“David Isaac Brenner.” Tessa rummaged in her purse for her lipstick pencil.

“That the whack job’s name?”

She chuckled. “Just do it.”

“Is this headed where I think it’s headed?”

Her amusement evaporated. She needed information, not a lecture. “Don’t start.”

“Purely for argument’s sake, I think now would be a good time to mention you’ve never made me Google any of them before.”

“And your point is?” Tessa outlined her lips, and then dabbed on some rose-colored lip gloss.

“How come this guy?”

She shrugged. “How about…he’s piqued my interest.”

“Oh, really? That’s new.”

“Can we not do this now? I’m sorta in the middle of something here.” She brushed her wispy bangs to the side. “Just tell me if you’ve found anything.”

“Hold on…it’s loading.” Silence echoed through the line while Tessa smoothed her white blouse into the low waistband of her pants, and then pulled on the French cuffs, straightening them at her wrists before centering the shoulders of her taupe silk jacket. “Oh my God, Tess, he’s gorgeous.”

She snapped her chin up, her reflection wide-eyed in the mirror. “There’s a picture?”

“Ah, yeah, there’s a picture. There are about five pictures.”

“Shut up!”

“He looks nothing like Michelangelo’s
David
. His hair’s too short…but my God, look at those eyes. Wait…I think he’s rich.”

“Yeah, I got that already. What else?”

“Give me a second, I’m reading…heads the Brenner Foundation…humanitarian efforts in Africa …some stuff here about his education and family…I think he’s sort of famous. I can’t believe this is the same guy. I’m freaking out over here.”