The Friends We Keep. Susan Mallery
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She waited, knowing someone else had to get out of the car. The guy standing there couldn’t possibly be the evil, nefarious money counter she knew he must be.
He was of average height—maybe five-ten or five-eleven—with dark hair and eyes, high cheekbones and sculpted jaw. His skin was a light café-au-lait color. He wasn’t traditionally handsome, but she had to admit she liked the look of him. Adding to the appeal were broad shoulders and narrow hips.
She blinked, not sure which surprised her more. The sexy package or the lack of black cape and horns.
No, she told herself. This was the manager. He’d come to explain why jerk-off couldn’t make it. He had to be.
She walked over. “Mr. Sterenberg? I’m Nicole and I’m—”
He looked at her, blinked twice, then held up his hands in the shape of a T. “Crap. No way. I can’t believe it. They sent you? Here? Now?”
WTF? Nicole’s warm, fuzzy, girlie feelings faded as quickly as they’d appeared. “Excuse me?”
“Look, this is really bad timing. I’m sure you’re terrific and all.” He glanced away, then returned his attention to her. He actually took a step back. “My friends are great. Assholes, but great. I can’t figure out if this is a joke or what but I’ll take it up with them later. But I have a thing I need to get to.”
He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. “I can pay you. You want the money, right? Or if they paid you already, I’ll tip you, but you have to go away.”
Words all spoken in English, yet they made absolutely no sense to her. Nada. What on earth was he—
“Oh my God, you think I’m a hooker?”
He stared at her, his eyes widening. Several twenties dangled from his fingers. “You’re not?”
“No. I’m the mom sent to escort you to the event back at the camp.”
His mouth moved, but no words came out. “Y-you can’t be. Look at how you’re dressed. This is not my fault. I saw a couple of my buddies over the weekend. I was bitching, ah, complaining about a long dry spell. They joked about fixing me up with someone. When I saw you—” He waved his hand up and down in front of her. “Look at how you’re dressed. This is not my fault.”
“You already said that.” Nicole raised her chin and squared her shoulders. “I was substitute teaching dance at a senior center,” she told him, using the haughtiest tone she could muster. “Helping a friend who’s on vacation with her family. She likes to dress in a costume because it helps. Today was tango day.”
His gaze dropped to the fairly spectacular amount of cleavage she was showing. No way she was going to tell him that it was mostly fake. Her somewhat meager assets were being pushed up by the wardrobe equivalent of chicken cutlets.
“Costume?” The word came out as a yelp.
“Costume,” she repeated slowly. “Do you know how insulting this is? I have a six-year-old son who worships you.” She dismissed him with a flick of her wrist. “Okay, not you but Brad the Dragon. He wrote and rewrote his essay. He didn’t play, barely ate. Because of your books. Do you know how many forms your stupid contest requires? I filled out every one of them. I took time off work to be here. I left senior citizens to be here and you think I’m a hooker?”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Like I believe that. I knew you’d be a jerk, but I never expected...” She sucked in a breath. “Fine. Let me show you where you’re supposed to go.” If only it were hell, she thought grimly. She would love to show him that.
“And you’d better be nice to the kids. All of them. Especially mine.”
“You’re mad.”
She started walking toward the camp area of the park. “Wow. A rocket scientist. You’re wasting yourself on kids’ books.”
He kept up with her easily, but then he wasn’t wearing heels. “It was an honest mistake.”
“Prostitution is illegal. I’m not even dressed that sexy. It wasn’t honest. It was sick. What kind of a man assumes a woman is a hooker?” She swung around to face him. “It’s one o’clock in the afternoon. In a park. Did you think I was just going to blow you in your car?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t think that part through. And, no, I don’t assume every woman is a hooker.”
“Just me?”
He winced. “I’m sorry. Really sorry. But you have to admit, you’re dressed provocatively.”
“No, I don’t.” She glared at him. “You’re saying I look like a slut?”
“I’m saying you’re all that.”
Under any other circumstances, she would have found him interesting. And maybe charming. But not like this. Not when he was that hideous author. She started walking again.
He slipped the money back in his wallet. “I’m sorry,” he repeated.
“You should be.”
“You really don’t like me.”
She barely glanced at him.
They went along the tree-lined path, toward the main camp building. Normally the kids were outside, but for this event, they were kept contained.
“Why did you assume I would be a jerk?” he asked.
“We are not having this conversation. I’m taking you where you need to go and nothing more. No. Wait. I’ll be taking pictures of you with Tyler and you will pretend this is the best time of your life.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“This is really important to him.”
“I got that.”
They reached the main camp building. She opened the side door before he could and stomped inside, then pointed. “Room five. Act happy. I’ve got mace in my bag.”
Jairus nodded once and reached for the door handle. He turned back to her, but she only continued to glower and point. When he went inside, she crept close and watched through the window.
The kids screamed loud enough to shake the building. She spotted Tyler standing in front of everyone, his eyes wide, his whole body shaking with excitement. Jairus approached him and said something she couldn’t hear. Tyler nodded. Jairus held out his hand. Tyler flung his arms around the man and Jairus hugged him back before glancing over his shoulder to where Nicole was watching.
“I got this,” he mouthed.
She turned away and hurried to the bathroom. Once there, she checked out her reflection even as she was peeling off layers.
Okay, so the makeup was a little heavy for the middle of the day. And yes, the dress was kind of tacky-sexy. But she’d been teaching tango.
“A hooker,” she muttered as she stepped out of her dress. She slipped on shorts and a T-shirt, then traded in heels for flip-flops. “Talk about a jerk. I knew it. I just knew it. That internet article about him was exactly right.”
Too bad he was so appealing. That was just wasted. God should have given Jairus more ugly. The man deserved it.
She had makeup wipes tucked in a side pocket of her tote. She used them to remove her tango-centric eye and face makeup. It only took a second to brush out her hair and secure it in a simple ponytail.
Now she looked like what she was. A mom. She supposed it was her own fault for being late. If she’d gotten to the park ten minutes earlier, this never would have happened. Not that Jairus wasn’t still going to have to pay.
She came out of the bathroom to find the party moving outside. The counselors had set up several tables with balloons and goody bags, along