No Strings Attached. Alison Kent

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СКАЧАТЬ to screw up what we have as friends.”

      What did they have as friends? And why did it feel like he’d been clothes-lined by her assumption that they’d be “finished dating”?

      Even though he knew she was right, and he couldn’t see himself sharing a future with Chloe, he didn’t appreciate not being given a chance.

      To do what, hotshot? Prove the princess as capable of dumping on you as any woman?

      “Give me a clue here, Chloe. What sort of assistance, exactly, would you be needing from Eric’s Escort Service?” Maybe he could back his way into helping her out, because no matter how much he enjoyed her company, he wasn’t going to act the part of any escort.

      Chloe got to her feet, paced to the opposite end of the couch, then back. She worked her hands as she talked. “Over the next few months, gIRL-gEAR is scheduled to be profiled in several national publications. Sydney has her eye on the big time. She’s courting designers. She’s talked about taking the company public.

      “Which means we’re all living under a magnifying glass. We’ve been ordered to clean up our acts. And I specifically have been asked to dismantle the skeletons in my closet and give the room a thorough disinfecting.”

      “Wow.” Eric nodded and absorbed and tried to fit his escort services into the lineup. “That’s heavy duty.”

      “Which part? gIRL-gEAR going public?” She narrowed her eyes. “Or my skeletons?”

      “If you have any skeletons, you’ve done a super job of keeping them under wraps. But then, that would make them mummies, wouldn’t it?” He waited for her to get it, then added, “Skeletons? Under wraps?”

      “That’s not funny.”

      “C’mon, Chloe. I can’t believe it’s all gloom and doom. You’ve been here, what?” He glanced at the basketball goal converted to a clock on the wall above her head. “Thirty minutes?”

      “Yes. And?”

      “So, you might’ve slipped one by me, but I don’t think I’ve heard so much as a dagnabbit come out of your mouth.”

      “Trust me.” Her hands went deep into the pockets of her shorts, her gaze to the toes of her cross-trainers. “It’s only for the tight leash I have on my tongue.”

      Eric leaned forward, catching the scent of sunshine in her hair. He smiled and whispered, “Just don’t let go. You’ll be fine.”

      “So, you’ve solved one of my problems.” She held up two fingers. “There’s still my fast and furious reputation. And then there’s Poe.”

      “Poe?”

      “A buyer at work. Her name is Annabel Lee. And she’d sell her soul for my job.”

      Eric needed more information to diffuse that particular bomb. But since Chloe’s reputation was one thing he knew about, he could ease at least that worry.

      “You think you have a fast and furious reputation?” He shook his head. “In my dreams, maybe.”

      A tiny smile crooked the corner of her mouth. “There you go. Dreaming again.”

      No way was he touching that comment. Ten-foot pole or twenty. “You date a lot. It’s not a big deal. If you slept around, I’d know it.”

      “What do you mean, you’d know it?”

      Here he needed to tread carefully. He might not be held to the same standards as a man of the cloth, but neither did he spill his guts lightly. “We run in the same circles, Chloe. And I own a bar. Trust me. I hear as many confessions as a priest. Your reputation is safe with me.”

      The second the words left his mouth, he knew he’d stepped into a big pile of dog doo. Chloe got a look in her eye that could only be called a wicked gleam.

      “I was hoping you would say that.”

      He stumbled over ten or twelve words before he finally shut his big mouth. This was what he got for trying to be a nice guy. At least he knew enough to stop with the shovel before he buried himself completely.

      “I have three functions coming up over the next couple of months,” Chloe was saying. “Official business functions. I can’t get out of any of them and I’ll be representing gIRL-gEAR while I’m there.”

      “So go already.” He knew where this was headed, knew he’d been smart to establish his just-say-no terms up front. Making like Chloe’s arm candy was not his idea of self-respect. “I’m sure you can find a date. Or better yet, avoid the reputation hassle and go alone.”

      She shook her head. “This girl does not fly solo.”

      “Why not?”

      “My reputation, duh.”

      Try as he might, Eric could not make sense of her logic. “I hope you’re kidding, because I think it’s your reputation that’s gotten you into this mess, am I right?”

      “You’re not a girl. I don’t expect you to understand. I can’t go alone. I have to have a date. And I would be ever so appreciative if you could help me out here.”

      He ignored the eyelashes she batted. “And by help you out, you mean…”

      She nodded.

      He shook his head. “I don’t know, Chloe. I’m not sure I want to be one of your statistics.”

      “You wouldn’t be. This is strictly business. Totally up front. If I show up with the same date all three times, the industry gossips won’t have a tongue-wagging leg to stand on.”

      Threads of common sense were unraveling all over the floor. “Sure they will. It’ll just be a different leg. My leg. And I don’t really care to be the object of anyone’s wagging tongue.”

      Then again…

      “Don’t you get it?” She wrapped delicate fingers around his forearm. “That’s the point. Sydney can hardly object if the reason for the gossip is all good. You’d be putting a positive spin on my situation. Party girl interrupted.”

      “First you want an escort. Now you want a spin doctor. I know it’s hard to believe, but even I can’t be all things to all women.”

      The imprint of her touch remained on his arm long after he’d pushed away from his desk. He’d hoped he could walk away; why had he never learned how to walk away? But he didn’t get very far because Chloe was in his face, one hundred twenty pounds of enthusiasm.

      “Think about it, Eric. Three dates. That’s all it is.” She counted them off on her fingers—one, two, three. “Three nights spent in my company, schmoozing with the media. With designers. Supermodels.”

      She’d called him Eric. Not sugar. “Supermodels?”

      “I’d do the same for you.”

      Oh she would, would she? “Supermodels, huh? I tell you what. I’ll СКАЧАТЬ