Bzzzz.
“Whose phone is that?” we ask each other in unison.
My pants are buzzing. Damn it. I jump up and rifle through the pockets.
“Bet that’s New Zealand,” she sighs, turning over and sitting up, elbows on her knees.
Ah, the view. The view....
“McCormick,” I snap into the phone.
“Hey, Declan!” says a voice so cheery it needs to be featured in a Pixar movie. “Greg here. Amanda told me you called and had a business issue to talk about? How’s it going?”
I look at Shannon. She’s making gestures that ask who it is. The problem is, I can’t tell her. Greg is part of my whole proposal plan, and if she finds out, my perfect set-up goes down the drain.
I grab my wallet and toss it to her.
“I get paid for sex?” she asks with a twitchy smile.
“You should,” I whisper. “Especially dressed like that.”
She giggles and everything jiggles and I can’t stop staring.
“But no. That’s to order takeout. Thai?” She nods and scampers out of the room, that ass—oh, that breathtaking ass—departing as Greg’s voice turns my arousal into a knot at the bottom of my stomach.
That growling sound isn’t hunger anymore. It’s frustration.
“Is Shannon there?” Greg asks, lowering his voice. “Did I—is this a bad time?” His voice slips into a register used only between men.
“She’s here and she’s fine. So listen, Greg, I need your help. It’s about Shannon.”
“I haven’t called her in eight months!” he protests. “I don’t ask her to do mystery shops for me ever since you played Santa and bailed me out! Carol’s the one who got her to do that bookstore evaluation the other day. Not me!”
Bookstore evaluation? “What? No. It’s not about that. It’s about having Shannon do a mystery shop.”
“You’ve lost me completely. I thought you banned me from having Shannon pick up mystery shops?”
“I did. This one is special.”
“Okay. Like how?”
“I’m going to ask Shannon to marry me and I—”
“You’re proposing! Congratulations! Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy and gal. You know, Shannon’s like a daughter to me, and you’re like a—”
“Client,” I say.
“Uh, yeah...client. A good client. A nice, big client I like very much professionally,” he backpedals. “So how can I help my best client?”
“I don’t want Marie to know I’m proposing. She’ll stalk us. Bring a camera crew or something,” I mutter, experiencing something close to a PTSD flashback as I stand here, naked, post-sex, talking about her.
“How can I help?”
“I want to completely surprise Shannon. Shock her. This proposal needs to come out of the blue, so I want you to have Carol ask her to do a high-end dinner evaluation at Le Portmanteau.”
Greg lets out a deep, low whistle. “That place charges four figures for a single dinner.” He goes silent. “Do they hire mystery shop companies? If so, I’ve never had a chance to bid on their contract.”
Maybe I’ve underestimated Greg. I always considered him affable and a little clueless, but I’m hearing the hints of some quid pro quo here.
“You help me set this up for Shannon and I’ll talk to their owner. See what I can do.”
“That would be much appreciated!” Greg booms. “Let me get this straight. You want me to tell Carol to call Shannon and offer her the mystery shop. You know Carol and Amanda will slit my throat if I don’t give them the chance to do this shop, right? They’ll rip my balls off and stuff them up my—”
“I get the picture. How about this—I’ll put in an order for three fake mystery shops. One for Carol, one for Amanda—”
Greg clears his throat. “Ah, Judy and I would—”
“Four. Make it four,” I snap, hearing Shannon’s footsteps coming down the hall.
“I put in the order for pad Thai and chicken satay! Enough for breakfast and lunch tomorrow, too!” she calls through the open doorway as she heads to the bathroom.
She’s got my attention. An order that big can mean only one thing.
A sex binge.
The sound of the shower in the distance makes other parts of my body come to attention. I’ve got to get off the phone. Now. Now now now.
“Great. Take care of the details and bill me directly. This won’t go through Anterdec. Make sure Shannon gets an evaluation form and instructions, an expense account...whatever it is you do. Make it look real. It has to be convincing.” I start to get off the phone and add, “And this is confidential.”
“Oh, my lips are zipped. No worries, Declan, and thank—”
I end the call and sprint for the bathroom.
There’s just enough time for shower sex before the food arrives.
Shannon makes a great, wet appetizer.
CHAPTER FIVE
Four days before the proposal...
Going to Marie’s yoga class is about as much fun as playing Mall Santa was last Christmas. With less pee and more pinching.
We have jock straps and cups to protect the jewels during athletic events, but there’s no comparable product to protect your ass from the nimble fingers of a determined ninety year old named Agnes.
Shannon begs me to go. “Mom really feels bad about what happened with the, uh, cameras.”
“Feels bad? Our first amateur sex tape was filmed by your mother. ‘Feels bad’ doesn’t cut it.”