Park Avenue Prince(26)

“Why was it stupid?”

“Because I need him to still be my client.” I didn’t tell Scarlett that Sam’s assistant had sent me over the contracts as promised. Or that I’d signed and returned them to her. I didn’t explain how Sam had called me three times since, or that I’d ignored him each time. I didn’t want anyone to know how he seemed to be taking up more and more of my thoughts.

“Was it bad sex?” she asked. “You can’t look at him because he had a two-inch penis?”

A small dick wasn’t Sam Shaw’s problem. I shrugged and coaxed over a waiter. Harper arrived at our table at the same time. “Can I get a virgin mojito and a bread basket, please,” she asked before she even acknowledged us.

“Two more margaritas, please,” I said and turned back to my friends.

“Move over,” Harper said as she slid onto our booth. “What are we talking about? Jesus, is there nothing to eat in this place? I thought this was supposed to be a restaurant.”

“Take it down a notch. You just ordered a bread basket,” Scarlett said. “And we were talking about guys with two-inch dicks.”

Harper grimaced and moved away from us, as if Scarlett had announced we both had herpes. “Who’s got a two-inch dick?” she asked.

“No one,” I replied.

Scarlett gave Harper a knowing look. “Some guy Grace banged.”

“You banged a guy with a two-inch dick?” Harper asked.

“No, his dick was plenty big, thank you.” Jesus, how did we get here? I didn’t want to think about the size of Sam Shaw’s penis, or how it felt slipping into me, pushing deeper and deeper. How I felt it in my toes and finger tips, beneath and through every part of me.

Harper and Scarlett just looked at me, waiting for more.

“So, who’s the guy?” Harper asked.

I shook my head, glancing across at the waiter, hoping he’d interrupt us soon so we could change topics. “No one.”

“A client,” Scarlett said.

I rolled my eyes.

“When did it happen? Could it be a thing?” Harper asked. Trying to get Harper to talk about finding a serious relationship before she met her husband had been almost impossible. Now she wanted everyone to have what she had. It was sweet, but it was annoying.

“No, it’s not a thing and it’s never going to be. It just happened, but it won’t happen again.” Because nothing happened after the sex.

And that suited me fine.

“I need to focus on the gallery at the moment. I think I’m going to offer art consulting to people who want it.” I twirled the stem of my empty margarita glass.

“Oh, I thought you weren’t into that,” Scarlett said.

I shrugged. “But with Steve’s work gone, I have to do whatever it takes to make it work.”

Thankfully, the waiter arrived with our drinks and took our order, taking Harper and Scarlett’s attention away from me, giving me room to breathe, to think. I tuned out whatever it was Scarlett and Harper were talking about. Was he in his apartment now? On that old beat-up couch, the TV on, his hand slipping past his waistband to circle his cock?#p#分页标题#e#

I jumped at the buzz of my phone on the table. Sam flashed across the screen. Three ignored calls and two margaritas meant it was time to speak to him. “I have to get this,” I said, sliding out of the booth.

“Sam Shaw,” I answered, placing my finger in my ear as I walked through the restaurant toward the exit.

“I’ve called you three times, Grace Astor,” he replied, clearly irritated.

“You’re on my call sheet, but you beat me to it.”

“Your call sheet?” he asked, giving me a second to respond. I stayed quiet. “You signed the papers; you’re supposed to be my art consultant. I’ve not been consulted about anything.”

“I signed the papers, that doesn’t mean you own me.”

More silence, but from the few hours I’d spent with him, I understood it wasn’t angry, just contemplative. He absorbed what people gave out, learning about it, and then stored it up. For what?

“I went to the preview for the auction I told you about.”

“You don’t think I should have come with you? I thought you wanted me to like what I bought?”

I ran my thumbnail between my bottom two front teeth to interrupt the smile that threatened. “I thought you just wanted to make money? I’ll get the catalog sent over tomorrow and we can decide before the auction on Thursday.”

“No. Bring the catalog. Lunch tomorrow. And what time’s the auction on Thursday?”