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Tina

S weaty ladies? Investment? I grind my molars to keep from biting the smirk right off his mouth. What I really want to do is straddle his thighs and grind something else off instead. Mainly me. The twinkle in his eyes tells me he knows it too. Damn him. He’s figured out his teasing gets me going and is digging in his heels. I’m hot and horny and beyond cranky.

He’s saved from my wrath by his ringing phone. The ride to the Vegas house is tense, to say the least. I squirm in my seat to try to ease the ache between my legs while he takes phone call after phone call, seemingly unaffected.

As soon as we enter the house, I dart off to my bedroom and lock myself inside. Later I’ll berate myself for being such a coward, but for now, I need an ice-cold shower.

When I exit the room again, I’m dressed and ready to face whatever Dustin has in store for me. My heels click on the wood floor as I make my way to the kitchen. I spot the note on the counter, propped against the bowl of fruit. My name is scrawled on the outside, but let’s be real, I would’ve read it even if it hadn’t been addressed to me. I lift the paper, revealing a black credit card underneath. After scanning the to-do list, I snap a picture of the card, sending it to Rosa as I walk to the front door. Her response comes instantly.

ROSA: Kept. Woman.

Smiling, I open the door and find a man standing on the stoop. “Can I help you?” I ask.

“Good morning, ma’am. Are you ready to go?”

It seems that now I’m without my friends to keep me company, Dustin has arranged a driver for me. On our way to run my list of errands, I learn his name is Mitch, and he’s a retired boxer in his mid-sixties. He lost his wife, Rita, a few years ago and was going crazy at home alone.

“Then I get a call from the kid and here I am,” Mitch says, holding his big arms out wide, his face bright with renewed purpose. The idea of being carted around seemed a bit ridiculous at first, but after Mitch’s explanation, my irritation vanishes.

“Well, Mitch,” I say, meeting his blue eyes in the rearview mirror, “if we’re going to do this thing then the first order of business is getting caffeinated.”

In front of the coffee shop, Mitch stands with one hand curled around the top of the car door, bending to assist me out with the other. I expect him to wait outside, but he surprises me by following me. When I tell him it’s not necessary, he just smiles, telling me his orders were not only to drive me but to shadow me as well. He’s so big, “shadow” is no exaggeration. The older man can block out the sun with his body.

The barista greets us, looking a little terrified of Mitch’s lurking. I lean forward and stage-whisper. “He’s harmless, I promise.” Her gaze darts from me to Mitch and she doesn’t look convinced. I place my order, getting Mitch a cold brew when he says he’s never had anything but straight-up hot black coffee his whole life.

“So,” I say with the black card burning a hole in my purse, “what do you say we do some sightseeing?”

He lifts his gaze to the rearview mirror. The skin at the corners of his eyes crinkles. “I say you’re the boss.”

We spend the next several hours visiting touristy places like the Paradox Museum, the Titanic Artifact Exhibition at the Luxor, and finally the Mob Museum before we tackle the to-do list. Mitch is the perfect date, regaling me with all his glory days as he weaves through traffic like a pro.

With nothing left to stall us, we head to the office. It looms like a storm cloud up ahead, a smoked-glass facade hiding the man who has consumed my thoughts for weeks. I force air into my tight lungs with a deep inhale and count to ten while the car glides to a stop at the curb.

When I don’t make a move to exit, Mitch clears his throat. “Everything okay?”

His question spurs me into action. With his assistance, I climb out of the car and he hands me the bag from the cleaners, patting me on the back. “Have a good day, Tina.”

“You too, Mitch.”

On the ride over, all kinds of scenarios played in my mind as to what would be waiting for me when I got here. Dustin doling out more orders while at his desk was high on the list, but not once did I picture Blanche with him. With everything that’s happened, I forgot all about her. Looking at her now, in a cherry-red dress that outshines my rust-colored one, I’m not sure how it was possible.

Fortunately, my feet still perform their function, taking me closer with each step. Unfortunately, my eyes work too, and they see Blanche clearly as she hovers over Dustin, a few inches separating her from his shoulder. A nasty spike of jealousy hits me square in the chest. She perches on the edge of his desk and whatever she says next makes them both laugh.

That’s the precise moment Dustin’s eyes meet mine through the glass wall. They darken as they travel from my legs to my face, not missing anything in between. There’s no mistaking what his lustful look says—my boss is thinking dark and dirty thoughts about me. And I thought it was hot outside.