My Sexiest Mistake. Kristin Hardy

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СКАЧАТЬ her stomach. “What, exactly, do I need?” Ryan asked carefully.

      “Some quality sheet time with a guy who knows what he’s doing and knows how to drive you crazy.”

      Ryan’s brows drew together. “Helene, you are not going to set me up with a one-night stand.”

      “You’re right, I’m going to do something better,” said Helene, sounding far too pleased with herself for Ryan’s comfort. “You need inspiration and I can deliver. A girlfriend of mine knows an agency that supplies guys she says will make you see God.” She paused a moment. “In return for a token of your appreciation.”

      Ryan’s jaw dropped “You’re not suggesting…” Her voice trailed off. What was going on with people? First her mother suggesting she watch dirty movies, then Helene trying to line her up with a…a… “You’re talking about a gigolo!” Her voice rose to a squeak on the last word.

      “Not a gigolo, an escort.” Helene corrected. “A class act. Come on, you loved it when the society lady went to one in those Tales of the City books.”

      Ryan closed her eyes and massaged her temples where a headache was rapidly forming.

      “Think about it,” Helene continued, her lighter snapping in the background. “A guy who’s gonna focus only on making you feel good. You sit there, quiver in ecstasy all night long.” Ryan could hear her drawing on her cigarette. “You make mental notes for when you go back to the computer, and you write it all down in the morning.”

      “I am not going to pay someone for sex,” Ryan said in outrage.

      “Well, right now, it doesn’t seem like you’re going to get it any other way, kid, and until you do, this book’s not going to get written,” Helene said tartly.

      Was the whole world going nuts? Ryan groped for words, not even knowing where to start. “You do fine on your own, why isn’t it okay for me?”

      Helene’s voice softened. “Ryan, I’m a dried-up old broad. I had my run, and it was a good one. H.L., God rest his soul, left me with a bundle of wonderful memories.” She sighed a little. “But you, you’re gorgeous, you’re young. Enjoy it while you’ve got it. Get out and live a little.”

      “By sleeping with a gigolo?”

      “An escort. Why not? Think of the great story it would make for your grandkids.” Helene stopped. “When they’re grown, anyway. Better yet, think about the manuscript deadline. This baby’s gotta be good, Ryan.” Her voice sharpened with intensity. “You’ve gotten the chance, but you’ve got to convince that editor Elaine that you’ve got the goods or you lose the other three books in the series. You’ll be stuck in sweets, and you can’t make a living doing those.” She paused. “What you’re doing isn’t working. Why not try this?”

      Ryan opened her mouth and nothing came out. She closed it slowly, considering. From nowhere, a rush of daring hit her. Why not try it, she thought, brushing a finger over her lips, shivering a little as the nerve endings woke up. What would it feel like to have a man kiss her? What would it feel like to have his naked body on top of hers, to have him inside her, thrusting in and out, his back muscles slippery with sweat beneath her fingers? To know what it was really like…

      “…don’t you think?” Helene’s voice sounded in her ear.

      “What did you say?” Ryan asked, shaking her head to dislodge the image.

      “I said, it’s worth a try, don’t you think?”

      What did she think?

      She thought it was scandalous.

      She thought it was outrageous.

      And as a sudden surge of recklessness came over her, she thought it could be just what she needed.

      “Yes.” The word was out before she knew she was going to say it.

      “Yes? Yes? You’re going to do it?” Helene’s voice rose in a whoop. “Yes! Now when? The sooner, the better to my mind.” Her voice fell into her staccato deal-making cadence. Details and plans were her passion. “Got plans for tomorrow? Mavis says she meets her guy in the lobby bar of the Copley Plaza Hotel. See? Class all the way.”

      “I must be out of my mind to do this,” Ryan moaned.

      “Don’t you dare back out,” Helene ordered. “This is exactly what you need. We’ll have to set you up with a room. I’ll take care of it, and get the key delivered to your office. All you have to do is walk upstairs with him and into bliss.”

      “I should have my head examined.”

      “I don’t know about examining your head,” Helene said with a wicked lilt to her voice, “but we’ll find you a guy who’ll play doctor with you to your heart’s content.”

      “GENTLEMEN, IT WAS A pleasure doing business with you.” It was like a tribal ritual, Cade Douglas thought as he and his partner went around the conference table shaking hands with the members of the venture capital group that had just funded their start-up to the tune of $7 million. Even back in his days of wheeling and dealing at Shearson Lehman, in the end the deal came down to handshakes.

      $7 million. He felt a surge of triumph. They had backers now, a group convinced that eTrain.com was more than a pipe dream. Backers who believed that they’d be a success, who believed enough to sink a small fortune into their ability to turn online education into money.

      There was a whoop of jubilation somewhere down deep in his throat, but he contented himself with a wide smile as he and his partner, Patrick Wallace, walked out into the hotel corridor.

      $7 million.

      “I still think we should have them to the office while they’re here,” Patrick muttered. “That dial-up connection was pathetic. They can’t have any idea of what we’re trying to do.”

      “Patrick, VC guys don’t care about the technology,” Cade said patiently. “They’re in town for an Internet conference. They don’t want to spend an hour driving out to Peabody. They just want the business plan.”

      “I still think…”

      “Patrick. Did we or did we not get the money?”

      “We got the money,” Patrick said, a smile spreading across his face until it looked like it was going to crack. “Jesus, we just walked into a room and convinced five guys to give us seven million dollars.” He whooped and punched his fist in the air. “Yes!”

      Cade pushed the elevator call button, the heady glow of the deal rushing through his veins. Eventually, the weight of responsibility would descend, but right now, life was good. Reflexively, he pulled out his cell phone to check messages. An instant later, he gave a muffled curse.

      Patrick shot a wary glance at him as the elevator doors opened. “No problems right now, buddy, I’m feeling too good.”

      “Nothing that you need to worry about,” Cade said briefly, punching the button for the hotel lobby. “A message from the darling Alyssa. She apparently heard that we were pitching the VCs today and wanted to remind me that she still hasn’t gotten the certificates on the stock options.”

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