Ella’s eyes appeared to cross for a moment before she breathed out. “You sure don’t believe in taking baby steps, do you? I mean, I know you told me what happened with Mark, but I still can’t believe he took care of you like that. I’ve spent a little time around him at various business functions, and he’s always charming. But he’s so—gorgeous. He looks like Matthew Bomer. All dark, sexy, and mysterious. I’ve heard he never sees the same woman twice either. Crys, you’re like a long-term relationship to him!”
Lifting a brow, Crystal asked, “Why are you over there lusting after Mark when you’re married to Declan Stone? Your hubby is a serious stud muffin. You know I stare at his ass at all our family functions, right?”
Ella grabbed a paper clip from her desk and tossed it at Crystal. “I’d have to be blind to miss that. The only person’s butt he stares at, though, is mine, so that’s all that matters.”
“You’ve got that right,” Crystal conceded. “He’s totally whipped, Ells, so good for you.”
Suddenly, her sister snapped her fingers together and literally jumped up and down in her seat. “I’m going to have a barbecue this weekend, and we’ll invite everyone—including Mark. That way, you’ll be able to see him again without looking like you’re stalking him. Are you still doing that, by the way?”
Trying hard to look offended, but failing, Crystal nodded. “Just a tad, and only on his Twitter account. I haven’t resorted to walking up and down the hallway outside his office yet. It was easier before when he didn’t know me. Now it would look too obvious.”
“No, really?” Ella said dryly. “Anyway, I’ll get with the others and make this happen. Don’t make any plans for Saturday evening.”
Crystal didn’t bother to point out that she rarely had anything to do on the weekend. After Ella had left, she wondered why she hadn’t told her about the tweets that she’d been exchanging with Mark. Something about it just seemed too personal to share. For now, she wanted to keep it between them. It was almost too good to be true, and she didn’t want to tempt fate by overanalyzing it.
At least now she had a reason to see him again, and she had to hope that the week would pass by quickly before she resorted to driving by his house.
Chapter Six
Mark had gone straight home after work and given Denny the night off. He generally used the drive to and from the office to return calls and e-mails, but still preferred to drive himself when the workday was over. After changing into something more casual, he’d grabbed the keys to his Porsche and driven across town to his favorite bar, Rivers. It was a popular meeting place for college students and professionals. He’d been chatting with the bartender, Jason, while enjoying a scotch and water, when a blond-haired beauty settled on the stool beside him. A quick glance told him that she was around twenty-five and had a spectacular set of fake tits. She had the perpetual tan common to so many living in a beach town. He had the sudden urge to lecture her about the dangers of sun exposure. What the hell was wrong with him? The only stern warnings he was usually interested in giving were in the bedroom. He had certainly never cared enough to go beyond that.
She was now turning sideways to face him, flashing her best flirty grin, and he felt . . . absolutely nothing. Nada. She was the exact replica of most of the women he picked to fuck for a few hours, and he wasn’t interested. Maybe it was the whole skin thing. Yeah, that had to be it. She’d turned him off by being too . . . tan. He angled his seat away from hers, and she stalked off.
“Man, I can’t believe you just blew Ashley off.” Jason laughed. “I’ve heard that she goes above and beyond. I’d kill for a shot at that.”
Mark shrugged, not in the least sorry. He was looking for something different tonight. After another thirty minutes, a brunette took the place of Ashley. This one looked to be a few years older, and she was a knockout. He was considering speaking to her, when she reached out and touched his arm, stroking up and down. He was immediately turned off. She was too forward. He didn’t like aggressive women. At least not tonight.
Things continued along the same lines for the next couple of hours. Jason was openly staring at him in confusion, probably questioning his sexual orientation by this point. He didn’t want to examine why, but no one appealed to him tonight. This was surprising because he’d been hard more often than not since Crystal crashed into his life. Why wasn’t he doing something about it? Just thinking of her again had him pulling his phone out and checking his Twitter account. “An ounce of performance is worth pounds of promises.” Mae West. #Angel.