Meanwhile, my lust had been completely overridden by blind panic.
“Slow down, Flash Gordon,” I tried to joke, doing my best to keep my hands and voice from shaking with anxiety as I responded.
Usually making a reference to Asher’s secret geekiness was good for about a half hour of him condescendingly explaining how I’d mangled or misconstrued said reference, but today he just laughed, leaning back against the wall in an unfairly relaxed posture. “Feeling the pressure?”
There were deep sea divers who were feeling less pressure than I was. “Oh, only every second of every day. Dammit, Asher, I’m up to my eyeballs in work and I don’t have the first idea how to go about doing half the things you just said!”
It cost me to admit that, but I couldn’t endanger my dream for the sake of my pride.
“That’s what I’m here for,” Asher said with a smile so smug it seemed to think the rest of Asher was just a convenient place for it to rest. “I’ll handle the business end of all this; you don’t have to worry your pretty little head about a thing.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?” Swallowing my pride was one thing, but having it shoved down my throat was something else entirely.
“What?” he asked, spreading his hands, all innocence.
“I thought you were going to be a silent partner,” I said pointedly. “But I’m hearing a lot of awfully loud condescension right now.”
“Maybe I could have phrased it better,” Asher admitted. “But you do need help, don’t you? Your expertise is more in the…artistic arena.” He stretched, and I momentarily forgot all my objections, and also all words in the English language, as the hem of his maroon T-shirt lifted to reveal tantalizingly sculpted abs.
Oh yeah, I need your help, Asher. I need your help locating the nearest flat surface so I can bang your brains out. Got any suggestions?
Unfortunately, that’d be the fastest way to torpedo this whole business. My second favorite fantasy after having sex with Asher was telling him to take his money and stick it where the sun didn’t shine because I could do this all on my own; realistically, I saw that solo venture playing out about as well as Custer’s Last Stand.
“Yeah, I need some help,” I muttered begrudgingly. “I guess.”
A buzz sounded, and Asher pulled his cell from his pocket, scrolling down through his menus until he came to his texts. A wicked grin dashed across his face before he could stifle it. He straightened up. “Well, I’d better jet. Time is a harsh mistress.”
“I’m guessing she’s not the only one,” I snarked. “Hot date?”
“Always,” Asher said with a self-satisfied smugness that made me want to punch that perfect face, or kiss it—anything to get him off his balance.
I remembered the night of our first kiss, the way that smugness had dropped away for just a moment, and in its place had been a strange and vulnerable sweetness, as though he really saw me. I remembered the way his hand had traced up my arm, so slowly, so gently, as if I were made of some precious and fragile material. I remembered how his eyes had darkened with passion, how he had pulled me closer—
“I have very high standards, after all,” Asher went on. “Space and time are finite, and I can’t waste either of them on someone who isn’t up to par.”
My happy memories crashed and burned. Right. Time was finite, and Asher wasn’t going to waste any of it chatting with me when he could be groping his latest blonde supermodel clone.
“Well, don’t let me detain you,” I said. “After all, every minute you spend here is a blonde you’re not talking into the backseat of your space-car.”
“Oh, I’d never let them into the Whomobile,” Asher said offhandedly. His devil-may-care grin widened. “But other than that, you’ve hit on the essentials of my life philosophy.”
I managed to get the words “see you later,” out of my mouth instead of “try not to trip on your boner on the way there,” and he left, leaving me with an empty shop and a sackful of worries.
I looked around at the wall, only half-filled with shelves and stock; they seemed to all of a sudden loom impossibly high above me. I felt small, minuscule, microscopic. How had I ever dared to think I could do this?
“Get your game back in the game,” I chided myself, shaking myself out of the funk. I grabbed my notebook and started working on my sketches. I needed these finalized by tonight, and thanks to my hard work and Asher’s time management, I was on track to do just that.
The stakes were high, and it was a deal with the devil, but at least the devil was keeping up his end of the deal.