Page 110 of Size King

“You’re convincing,” I tell him as I hand him my number. “You’re too cute. Anyway, that’s my number. You know, in case you plan to cancel before we’re actually supposed to meet up.”

He takes my number but doesn’t even look at it before putting it in his pocket. “I’m not canceling.”

* * *

As I’m showeringand dolling myself up for my date, Dustin is sending me texts on what our plans for the evening are.

“Let’s meet at Cupertino’s,” his first text reads. “The food there is amazing”

“Bring a jacket, sometimes it gets cold in there,” another text from him warns.

“6:30. Be there, little lady ;)”

I decide to get an Uber to Cupertino’s in case we are drinking, but the wait for the car to arrive is ten minutes, and I know there is likely going to be traffic.

So, I arrive at the restaurant at the fashionably late time of 6:38. Dustin has already gotten us a table and is waiting for me. He looks damn good. He is still wearing his leather jacket, but he has on a nice, button-up shirt and a pressed pair of jeans on.

He stands up as I arrive at the table. He is staring at my outfit. I have on a sleek blue dress that shows most of my legs and most of my cleavage.

Neither of us is sure what to go for, so we awkwardly fall into a hug once I get to the table.

From the moment I take my seat, I know that something is up. I don’t suspect anything sinister, although I do have my guard up, but I sense that he has an ulterior motive behind his actions throughout our dinner.

We keep things light and good at first. He is definitely a smooth talker, and I just enjoy listening to him fill me with sweet nothings. It also helps that he is incredibly fucking hot and keeps looking at me like I am part of the entrée for the evening.

Then, once our food arrives at the table, he gets right to it.

“Listen, I know it’s rude to talk about money,” he begins. “I know you just started and everything, but how much is Ultra-Cycle paying you? If you don’t mind me asking?”

“Enough,” I say. “Why do you want to know?”

“Just curious,” he fibs. “I’ll tell you how much I make…”

“I don’t care what you make.” I laugh. “Why do you want to know what I make? Tell me. If you have a good reason, maybe I’ll tell you.”

He takes a long sip of water before answering. “I want to know because I’ll pay you more if you leave Ultra-Cycle to come work for me.”

At first, I feel sure that he is kidding. I laugh.

“What’s so funny?” asks Dustin.

“Wait, are you serious?” I wonder. “Do you really own your own business or something?”

“I’ve got my hands in a lot of pies,” he repeats.

“Why do you want me to work for you?” I ask, humoring him.

“Well, I have my own bike shop,” he tells me. “I’m always looking to make my team bigger and better.”

“You—you own a motorcycle shop?” I ask, dumbfounded.

“Yes ma’am,” he confirms. “Dual Wheel Duo on Barbour Street.”

“So… why did you get your bike done at Ultra-Cycle, then?” I ask, perplexed. “Couldn’t, you know, you have just fixed the problem yourself? You know, since you own amotorcycle shop.”

“Ultra-Cycle has been outdoing my shop for months,” he says. “Your boss sure sells his services for cheap. We had to check out the competition, Cody and me. I was wondering what Jacob’s secret was, and I think I’ve found the key to his success: You.”

I laugh him off, blushing and rolling my eyes. “Whatever.”