Chapter Two

      Girlz Guide Words of Wisdom…

      Anyone worth doing is worth doing in sexy shoes.

      Thinking and plotting while surrounded by supportive friends was a hell of a lot more fun than standing alone, ready to launch the plan.

      And while passing out at a guy’s feet could get a girl some welcome attention, Gia was pretty sure throwing up was nowhere to be found in the Girlz Guide to Seducing a Hottie. She pressed one hand against her churning stomach, wondering how long she had before she was the first of her friends to inspire a new don’t list.

      Curling her toes into her sexy red leather Giuseppe Zanotti peeptoes, she forced her feet to stay still instead of hightailing it out of the nightclub.

      Maybe this was a crazy idea. She wasn’t seductive like Jessa or wild like Sara and didn’t even have a fraction of Caryn’s confidence. Yet here she was, trying to pretend she was all that and a cherry on top.

      A couple deep breaths got her past the hostess desk and to the entrance of The Bank Nightclub.

      The rockin’ vibe of the place actually took the edge off her nerves. The idea of getting out there, moving to the beat, just losing herself in the lights and crowd, held tremendous appeal. Music pounded a hard, fast invitation. Lights flashed to the beat. Even filled with people, the nightclub was so well laid out it didn’t seem crowded. Instead it was inviting, fun and the perfect setting for her fantasy seduction.

      She wanted to dance. She really did. But she couldn’t make her feet move.

      “Hello, gorgeous,” drawled a friendly voice at her shoulder.

      Well, that made her move. Gia damn near jumped out of her shoes. With a deep breath, she turned to brush the guy off, then pressed her lips together to keep from groaning aloud.

      Holy crap. Mark Lane from Marketing.

      Seriously?

      She’d been here less than five minutes, and she was already busted.

      Then she caught sight of her reflection in the mirrored wall behind Mark and blinked. That really was her?

      Thanks to extensions and Feria, her hair was a flowing mass of titian waves instead of her usual chestnut swing. Brown contacts, a painful squeeze of her credit card at the MAC counter and the removal of her lip ring ensured she didn’t look anything like her usual techie self.

      Her body, poured into a little black dress, the glittery fabric hugging curves made all the curvier by her Bombshell bra, had never looked this way at the Monday-morning meetings.

      But was it a good enough disguise?

      Did Mark recognize her? Other than a few casual comments at the lunch counter, they weren’t pals. But still…

      If she could fool him, she promised herself, she’d be able to nail this fantasy. And then, she hoped, she’d get to nail Luke Monroe, too.

      “Hi,” she greeted with a smile that was more a twitch of her lips than her usual full-on grin. She watched him carefully, as if he were a time bomb that could explode all over her life at any second.

      Her fingers itched for the phone that wasn’t in her purse, wishing she could warn Caryn to be ready to spin some damage control. If Mark outed her, within minutes everyone at Tri-Solutions would be tweeting, texting and posting on Facebook. Soon the sad, humiliating tale of that time Gia Renyard pretended she had what it took to be a bombshell in Vegas would go viral. She’d be mocked and laughed at for years.

      Panic slid down her throat with greasy fingers and fear crawled through her belly. Tiny white dots spun in front of her eyes until Gia realized she was holding her breath. She let it out in a huff, then forced her lips into a stiff, slightly painful smile. It wasn’t as though he’d caught her using Luke as a stripper’s pole.

      “I’m Mark.” He offered his hand.

      Her body almost hit the floor as tension poured away.

      He didn’t know who she was.

      Thank you, thank you, thank you.

      “Are you local?” he asked. “Or are you just visiting?”

      Like every other guy she’d ever known, instead of waiting for a response, he launched into a soliloquy about himself. Where he was from, why he was here, how cool the CES show had been.

      Gia was too excited to care.

      He really didn’t know who she was.

      He didn’t recognize her.

      She would have jumped up and down in delight, but there was a serious danger that her boobs would fly right out of their Bombshell bra. Which would probably make it harder to get rid of the guy.

      Not that he was a creep. And he was good-looking. A little more metro than masculine, he gave a smile that was pure flirtation, and the interest in his eyes was genuine. But he wasn’t Luke.

      And it was Luke she was here to do.

      “Looking for a dance partner?” Mark said, tilting his head toward the dance floor, then after a second tilting it the other way toward the exit and giving his brows a wiggle.

      Oh, cool. Because girls just loved tacky euphemisms. His smile was suggestive as he gave her another once-over. He ended the inspection with a wink, as if his approval were something she’d been standing there waiting to get.

      Gia barely resisted rolling her eyes.

      “Thanks, but I’m waiting for someone,” she finally said, keeping her words husky and low.

      “A hot babe like you shouldn’t be waiting. You come dance with me, teach that guy not to take you for granted.”

      “Sorry.” She softened the refusal with a smile but still shook her head.

      With a look that assured her she didn’t know what she was missing and an easygoing shrug,