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Page 27 of Maneater (The Mavens #1)

I noticed it the third time I saw her out in Hudson City, that time with Jerry Callahan, a former investor at Daydream before he was charged with embezzling from his firm, when she told me she was happy to meet me, making Jerry believe it was our first introduction.

When she’s taunting me, tempting me, fucking with me, that dimple is deep in her left cheek. Ever since the first time I saw it, I’ve wanted to swipe a thumb over it, ideally when I’m buried deep inside of her.

“I’m assuming with all that ladder climbing, you haven’t had much time for dating.

“I don’t date,” I confirm.

“That explains the attitude. Not getting some will make a man bitter.”

I turn my head to look at her and smile. She doesn’t look my way, meaning I catch her profile and the small play of a grin on her lips instead.

“I didn’t say I never get laid, Josephine. Just that I don’t date.” When I answer, I continue to watch her face to track the changes, and I’m not disappointed in what I see: the slightest tightening of her jaw, a shift of her shoulders back, a centering breath—the tiniest flare of jealousy .

“Well, maybe you should try. A couple of dates here and there might help with your shitty attitude.”

“I’ve got bigger priorities. Dating doesn’t mesh well with my lifestyle.”

She lets out a huffed laugh like she finds that ridiculous. “Priorities? What kind of priorities could you have? You’re doing better than every other man your age, I think it would be okay to put yourself first just a bit.”

I look ahead of us to where Horace is talking loudly to Jeff at the front of the pack and to Gene and his girlfriend talking in hushed, cozy tones, and for some reason, I explain.

“I owe a lot to my boss. I was an intern for her during my undergrad, and she saw something in me. She took me under her wing when I was just starting there. She saw something in me that no one else, not even myself, did. She trained me, let me shadow her. Fuck, she’s the reason I even went back to school to get my MBA.

She petitioned the board to cover the cost, saying it was an investment in their future. ”

“That you were the future?” she asks, clarifying, and I nod, lost in the memories.

“So, I don’t like to waste my time on distractions that don’t matter.

I don’t have time for Friday night dinner dates and regular weekends away.

My schedule is chaotic, and even if I have a low-key week planned, things come up, and I have to be ready to go visit a resort on a moment’s notice.

Unfortunately, although a lot of women like the idea of hitching themselves to a wealthy, powerful man, they don’t like the reality. ”

I tried dating over the past few years, but it never went well.

It always ended in an argument and a “this isn’t working for me” text.

At the end of the day, despite my expressing it explicitly at the beginning of the very first date, choosing my job over a woman never seems to be what they’re looking for.

“That’s insane,” Josie says low after a long beat, and I look at her, confused.

“They have to know that your passion and hard work are what make you what you are. That’s the attractive part: not the money.

Not the power. The drive.” She’s not looking at me, instead looking somewhere far off, but I can’t stop staring at her.

“That’s the sexiest part about a successful man: not what they have, but how they got it.

Hard work, determination.” She shakes her head, a small knowing smile on her lips now.

“The ones with power and wealth, but also time on their hands? They were either born into it or thought they deserved it without putting in the effort. That’s not sexy.

I don’t get how some people can’t see that, can be attracted to the career but not the drive. ”

I’m silent as I watch her obvious confusion mixed with a hint of irritation, and once again, I’m at a loss.

Who the fuck is this woman?

And why is she so fucking perfect?

And how is she still single?

“You know, I just don’t get it,” I say with a disbelieving laugh.

“Get what?”

Without meaning to, I confess everything rumbling around in my head, thoughts I’ve had for a while but, now that I’ve spent time with her, feel more prevalent.

“You’re perfect. You’re beautiful and funny, you’re insanely smart, even though you hide it, playing the idiot woman.

You could have any man you want. You clearly make enough to afford two weeks at a place like this, and yet you’re always out there dating these assholes who, you and I both know, you are so out of their league it’s not even funny. It doesn’t add up.”

Finally, she turns to me, taking me in for moments as we walk before she speaks.

“What’s your theory?” she asks, further confusing me.

“My theory?”

“You seem convinced that I’m something other than what I say. What’s your theory?”

I don’t miss how she doesn’t deny that she’s hiding something. Still, I shake my head, giving her my honest answer.

“I don’t know. I don’t know, and honestly, Josie? It’s driving me insane.”

Her smile goes wide. “So, you’re admitting you can’t stop thinking about me?”

It always comes back to this with her, trying to get me to admit I’m into her, something that, at this point, we’re both well aware of.

“Absolutely not,” I lie.

Her smile goes wider, like she expects that. “That’s fine; the gift you sent me last night did it for you just fine. Thank you for it, by the way. It’s my new favorite drink.”

I almost forgot about the stupid decision I made to send her up a bottle of the whiskey I drank at the bar, the one that was on my lips when we kissed, with a note reminding her that I found her after all.

“Maybe we should enjoy it together tonight.”

A wave of heat that has nothing to do with the weather rushes through me at the ways I could enjoy Josie.

But that’s a terrible idea.

”I told you: I’m not here to fraternize with guests,” I say with a sigh that sounds disappointed even to my own ears.

She tips my head to the side and aims a smile at me. “Is that so?”

I nod, though when her smile widens, I know it was the wrong choice, that somehow I set myself up for her sass.

“Then what are you doing up here, chatting with me?”

“What?”

“There’s a big group here. You don’t have to stand with me.”

My jaw goes tight with her point, realizing that once again, she’s proving her point, winning this battle of ours.

“Your denial is so cute, though, Rowan. Keep telling yourself that.”

It’s a reminder I should keep an eye on Gene and his girlfriend, making sure they’re having a great time despite the leaks, and try to track if anyone is showing him too much interest. I could be schmoozing Horace, who is apparently going to have some sway over my paycheck in the future, or even talking to Jeff, who was the last person on shift before the fire.

Instead, I’m back here chatting with Josie about my job and my dating life and letting her twist my mind once more.

For a split second, I see a hint of resigned accomplishment on her face, like diverting my attention was her goal even if it’s not what she wants, but it’s gone as fast as it appeared, and I don’t have time to play games with her.

“You’re right,” I say bluntly. And then I quicken my pace and move toward the front of the pack where the aging rock star is.

And even though I chat with Gene and later, Horace, I can’t deny that I’m grateful when she moves to the front of the pack, where I can watch her ass move with each and every step.

Thirty minutes later, we take a break; Jeff distributes snacks that the hotel packs for its guests before sitting on a tree stump in the clearing right next to Josie.

I spent most of that time talking with Gene, who, thankfully, seemed incredibly impressed by the resort and understanding of the issues we’ve been facing.

I also spent those thirty minutes watching Josie, who moved almost effortlessly through the group, chatting and laughing with nearly every person, making friends everywhere she went.

I hated it.

I hated that I couldn’t let myself have that part of her, couldn’t let myself be distracted by her when, for some fucked-up reason, that’s all I want right now: to let myself be distracted by Josie.

And now she’s flirting with my employee while I listen from five feet away.

“So do you like doing these excursions?” she asks him.

He smiles at her, not in a way an employee smiles at a guest, but in a way a man smiles at a woman whose pants he’d like to get into, and I force myself to eat my dry-as-fuck granola bar instead of interrupting.

“Oh, yeah. They’re my favorite part of the job.”

“What else do you do around here?”

His hand reaches up, and he scratches the back of his neck. “I used to do the rental shack a few times a week, but…”

She gives him a small grimace. “Oh, I heard about that. What happened there?”

My mind goes back to when I first found her at the resort, behind the caution tape, and exploring the remnants of the rental shack.

“No one really knows. The cameras went out, and then the rental shack was.” His hands making a poofing motion. “Gone.”

“That’s just crazy. Do you think it was an accident?”

He shrugs. “Who knows?”

“But what are your thoughts?” she says with a pretty smile, leaning over and gently touching his arm.

Without meaning to, I let out a quiet grunt, but she hears it, her head moving in my direction. She tips her head a bit like she’s trying to figure something out—figure me out—but I’m tired of Josie decoding me.

“I think it’s time we continue our hike,” I say, standing and then walking over to where they’re sitting, my eyes firm on Jeff and avoiding the glare Josie is giving me.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Jeff says, looking at his watch, where the ten-minute timer he set clearly still reads two more minutes. “All right, everybody, let’s get going.”

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