A Dangerously Sexy Affair. Stefanie London
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panties. Except pulling the dress down meant giving up any hope of a modest neckline. One wrong move could land her in wardrobe-malfunction territory, and her plans for the evening didn’t include having a “nip slip” in public.
“You know, dendrophilia is kind of frowned upon.” Her friend, Alana Peterson, laughed and linked her arm through Quinn’s, pulling her away from the plant. “Or are you trying to take your wallflower status to the next level?”
“I’m trying not to show everyone what I had for lunch.” Quinn pursed her lips. “This dress is obscene.”
Away from the security of the curling leaves and fronds of the potted plant, Quinn was exposed to the room. Banners displaying the annual Bright Star Technology Innovation conference logo hung from the ceiling. Posters advertising the sponsors dotted the walls, and large LCD screens flashed photos from the preceding three days’ worth of conference activities. But everyone in the room seemed to be more interested in talking and drinking.
“Don’t be such a prude.” Alana flipped her blond hair over one shoulder. “Besides, you were the one who said you wanted to get over your issues with sex. Part of that is to become comfortable with your body.”
“And becoming comfortable with my body involves showing as much of it as possible?”
“Not necessarily. But you said you want to get back in the game, and that means you need a partner.” Alana winked. “That dress looks hot. No guy in their right mind would refuse you.”
“I feel like a human sausage.”
“It’s body con,” Alana said as if it was common knowledge. “It’s meant to be tight.”
“I’d prefer a little less con.” She rolled her eyes.
“You have an amazing body.” Alana looked at her, the admiration on her face genuine and warm. “It’s such a shame that you hide it all the time.”
Quinn sighed. Trying to explain her complicated relationship with her body to someone who could be a Victoria’s Secret model would be pointless. There wasn’t anything wrong with the way she looked, not at all. But her gangly limbs, ghost-white skin and piercings weren’t exactly magazine-worthy.
She hid behind pink hair dye and quirky clothes. And her “resting bitch face” may have repelled men on more than one occasion. Male attention wasn’t something Quinn was ever at ease with...not when that attention could lead to humiliation.
“Besides, who says sex and networking can’t go hand in hand? You might find an orgasm and a new job. There are some big players here—game-design studios, a few software-development companies. I’m pretty sure I saw a guy from Microsoft,” Alana continued. “You’re wasting your talents at that security company, and your boss has no idea what you’re capable of.”
She frowned. “You’re right. I should have been given that promotion.”
“Instead they went with someone external, who doesn’t have any of your business knowledge.” Alana’s eyes flashed as she shook her head. “What a load of bullshit.”
“Tell me about it.” Quinn sighed.
Her annoyance toward Alana’s pushiness—and by extension, the dress—melted away. While Alana’s methods might be questionable, she’d always done her utmost to bring Quinn out of her shell.
And she was the only one Quinn could talk to about her issues with sex and her decision to conquer them. She wasn’t ready to date—that required a level of trust far beyond her capacity—but she could reclaim her sexuality.
All she had to do was find the right guy.
“You should quit,” Alana said, laying a hand on her arm and pulling her out of her thoughts. “They don’t know how talented you are.”
Quinn chewed on the inside of her cheek. Quitting sounded so simple when Alana said it in that airy way of hers, but that would mean going through the interview process again...and if there was one thing she sucked at, it was interviews. And even if she got a new job, she’d have to start working with a different team and go through that epic awkwardness of being the “new girl” all over again.
It wasn’t only that. She liked working at Cobalt & Dane. She admired her manager and appreciated all that they achieved as a company. She didn’t intend to quit—she simply had to prove they’d made a mistake by not promoting her. Being part of the technology security division at Cobalt & Dane Security was her dream, and after three years working as an IT support officer, she knew that she wanted more out of her career. That she was capable of more.
“I’m getting that job,” Quinn said through gritted teeth. “The new guy is a temporary hurdle.”
Alana raised a brow. “A temporary hurdle?”
“Yep. I’m going to make it my mission to prove to my boss that I’m exactly the person he needs.”
“You’ve already proven it, but they haven’t been paying attention.” Alana frowned, her blue eyes narrowing.
“Ease up, Mama Bear. I’m happy to show them what I’m made of.”
The two girls stood to the side of the room and watched the crowd. It was an eclectic mix of people: men in suits and others in jeans, old and young, a wonderful melting pot of nationalities and cultures.
But almost all men.
As a self-professed tech-head and an avid gamer, Quinn was used to being a minority. She and Alana had bonded immediately in high school because they were often the only two girls in their IT class. They’d both gone on to study technology at college and had entered the industry still feeling as if they didn’t quite belong.
Alana had taken it on the chin and ended up using her model looks to get ahead. She figured if men were going to objectify her then she’d use it to her advantage. Quinn, on the other hand, was the typical introvert. She worked better with small groups, had a few close friends she held dear and kept everyone else at arm’s length.
“If you keep pulling on that dress, you’re going to ruin the hem,” Alana admonished. “I’ll make you pay for it.”
“And I’ll challenge you to ‘Mortal Kombat,’ winner takes all,” Quinn pointed out.
“I wouldn’t be stupid enough to fall for that twice.” Alana’s glossy lips lifted into a rueful smile. “Talk about an embarrassing defeat.”
“Less than twenty seconds, if my memory serves me correctly.”
“I still maintain you cheated.”
Quinn laughed. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
The room buzzed around them, music mixing with conversation and the sound of laughter. Waiters wove through the crowds carrying silver trays filled with champagne, wine and beer. Quinn hadn’t been to a cocktail party before, and she was surprised that they weren’t actually serving cocktails. Not that she really gravitated to drinks with little umbrellas in them, but still...
“Do you actually know anyone here?” Quinn asked, accepting a glass of red wine from a passing waiter. She sipped and tried not to cringe at the taste; this was so not her style.
“Only the guy who got us added to the list. I recognize a few people. That guy—” Alana pointed to an older man in a gray suit “—he’s the CEO of Strikevision. I’m pretty sure I saw one of the guys from Popstar Games here, as well.”
Quinn nodded. She wasn’t impressed by celebrities or reality TV stars, but put the man responsible for “Saints Row” in front of her and she’d fangirl like a sixteen-year-old at a Justin Bieber concert.
“So why are you here? I don’t buy that it’s just to be my winglady.”
“I’m working on a story,” Alana admitted.
“You lured me here under false pretenses?”