She really wasn't a tease. Teasing implied some kind of sexual knowledge, some instinctive awareness that how she acted, what she said would produce a specific male response. Teasing sounded so calculated, so knowing, so deliberate. Better to wrap the tease in innocence and just a touch of the demure and, honestly, that wasn't so far from the truth. She would have gotten the medal for both at one point, plus the blue ribbon for "most naïve" college freshman. Somehow, she'd never really lost that innocent aspect and men just seemed to sense that about her. Besides, she never teased indiscriminately. Most of the time, she was just friendly. Only when she was really attracted, really intrigued, really challenged, did she bring out the tease. It happened rarely and it hadn't happened in a long time.
She pushed back from the desk, reached for her coffee cup, found it cold and buzzed her assistant for more. Swiveling around to look out the walls of glass that bounded her office was Santa Monica at its best; early summer, bright blue sky, glorious wedge of sapphire water. The view took the edge off sixty hour weeks and needy celebrity clients with too much time and money and not nearly enough common sense. Not exactly what she thought she'd be doing when she entered law school but, as it turned out, she was damn good at dealing with the law and the stars. Didn't leave much time for, what did they call it, oh, yes, a balanced life. No husband, no children, not even a cat although she did have a drop dead condo, a killer wardrobe, and the sweetest little Beemer. And friends, lots of them. Most of the time that was all she needed since she was just a mite picky about men, love and sex.
5:30. She had a 6:30 cocktail party and a limo coming at midnight to take her to the Bahamas on a private jet thanks to a grateful client who was not going to see his photo plastered over People while he slobbered over some woman who was definitely not his wife. Perks of the trade and most of the world would think she was lucky. Well, it would be nice—a few days away—but alone in the tropics was still alone. If she weren't so exhausted, she'd have passed it up but she needed the time to think. She was pushing thirty-three, more successful than she ever imagined and lonely as hell. If she stayed in the game, she knew exactly what the future looked like. More money and bigger perks, the best tables, the A list parties and endless work. Celebs were like needy children; always promising to be good and always in trouble. No wonder she'd not even considered marriage and a family; who needed to leave the office and go home to the same damned thing.
Time to change. A quick shower, redo the makeup, slip into a slinky pewter satin backless sheath. Her office came with its own bath and dressing room—another perk— and downstairs to the waiting limo; grateful clients did come in handy. Fifteen minutes later she was walking into the foyer of Martin Grey's over the top house where the requisite A-list milled around standup tables and a poolside bar. She made her way over the nearest group, didn't matter which one; she fit in any of them and well enough known to be a desired compliment. Good lawyers were a dime a dozen in LA, really good lawyers who were female and easy on the eyes, knew now to keep a secret and didn't sleep with anyone's husband, they were at a premium. Someone handed her a glass of champagne, someone said hi, someone kissed her cheek and she would have missed him completely if a waiter hadn't accidentally bumped her. She started to shift away when she caught the eyes of a tall, dark haired man standing alone across the terrace. He had the most amused expression on his face, as if the whole scene arrayed before him was some kind of movie set (well, he wasn't that far off) and he was the only one in on the joke. He looked back at her, raised an eyebrow, shook his head back and forth once, and turned away.
It bothered her, that rebuff, and it had been a very long time since she had entertained that feeling. Did he mean it for her? Who else was he looking at? Was she imagining it? No, he was still there, still looking over the terrace and she was still bothered. A smile, yes, we must get together for lunch...say whatever it takes to gracefully extract herself from the group and wander across the terrace. She recognized the feeling; it was a challenge. It had been awhile and she wanted to play.
She walked toward him, instinctively knowing that she had to make the first move. Well, that was part of her tease persona; a bit brazen and then back off. Her heels clicked on the stone terrace announcing her arrival when he suddenly turned to face her.
"Long time, Clare." The words were scarcely out of his mouth when a flood of memories rushed her. Lordy, he had changed, well, filled out was probably the better term. In place of that tall, skinny college kid with glasses was a well muscled man, clearly at ease in Armani although in her mind he was still wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. He still parted his hair on the left, still had a clef in his chin, still had a voice like warm chocolate and clearly still remembered her. She blushed a bit, didn't quite know what to say. Fifteen years was a long time to remember a brief college fling if you could call it that. How long had it lasted? A week?
He held her glance, a slight smirk the only clue that he might, just possibly remember that last time. Shoot, of course he remembered. Who wouldn't? She'd made an absolute fool of herself, going from pseudo-femme fatale to gawky freshman in less than thirty minutes.
She'd gone off to college pretty darn naïve, the result of a somewhat sheltered education and parents who were pretty strait laced: a professor dad with his head buried in a chemistry lab most of the time and a mother whose chronic asthma kept her housebound. From a small college town in Pennsylvania to UCLA had been a giant leap forward. But her grades had been outstanding; her SATs off the chart, and both of her parents were totally convinced the good sisters at St. Mary's Academy had drummed the importance of virtue and responsibility into her head, so they let her go on a full ride with total confidence. She didn't disappoint them; Dean's list every semester, summa cum laude without breaking a sweat but along the way, she made good on a few promises to herself.
She wanted to shed every vestige of small town Pennsylvania, goody two-shoes, and total innocent that she could. It was an impossible task and she was doomed to failure, something she discovered the first week when some guy tried to cop a feel around an orientation bonfire. Okay, she was never going to be the easy lay (amazing how her vocabulary had broadened after only a couple of weeks living in a dorm) but she certainly was going to test the waters.
He, Brad, of the current bemused expression, had been a genuine fiasco, a total failure on her part. She was intrigued with him from the get-go which had been a chance encounter in the bookstore and then, surprise, he was also in her Psych lecture. She'd smiled, he sat down beside her and something had just fluttered inside. He'd said bye after the lecture and walked off but the next week he found her again, sat with her and ended up asking her to his frat house for a Friday kegger. She'd met a lot of people, sipped very little beer, and was feeling trés sophisticated so she figured that this was a good time to try out her new persona—sexy college coed. Right. When he suggested that they go up to his room, she tipped her head down a bit, looked up, and smiled. Walking up the stairs with his arm around her shoulders felt pretty good. He was awfully cute and, heck, only a couple of years older. Besides, she was getting tired of being the only girl on her floor who had nothing to share at the Sunday night pizza fests.
His room was pretty tidy; bed made, books piled on the desk. He put on some music, sat down on the bed, gave her arm a little tug and, before she knew it, she was sitting down next to him.
"Not so bad, is it?" he said, pushing her hair behind her ear. "I've wanted to ask you out from the first but, I don't know, you always seemed so aloof. I'm glad you came tonight. I was beginning to think I didn't have a chance. Besides, I was hoping that we could partner up on that Psych project."
