Well, you won’t get one from me.
Nah, I never let a lady treat.I try to ease away and create a larger space cushion, but he steps toward me again. I don’t feel threatened by him, however. He’s a big guy, but not menacing. He isn’t trying to bully me with his physicality. I think he’s just completely oblivious to the I’m not interested vibes I’m transmitting.
Supernaturally (Paranormalcy #2)
Yeah, so I know, my life story is…it’s complicated, Ronny confesses, as if I asked for his life story.Which I didn’t.I grew up on the North Shore. Father’s a deep-sea fisherman. Whore mother took off with some asshole.
Banquets of the Black Widowers (The Black Widowers #4)
I can’t. Oh God, I just can’t.Ronny’s not a horrible creep or anything. An over-sharer, indisputably, but he seems nice enough, and he’s simply trying to make conversation.
But I can’t. I want this night, this whole damn weekend, to be over already. It’s been absolutely horrible. Dismal. I honestly can’t see how it could get any worse.
No sooner do I think those words than the universe decides to bitch slap me by bringing Jake Connelly into my field of vision.Picture? I say blankly.
My assistant grabbed your hockey mug shot off the net. Is it called a mug shot? I don’t know. How tall are you? Six-one? Six-two?Six-two—
Beautiful Disaster (Beautiful #1)
Six-two, I bet. I’m five-eight, just a little fella with a big bank account, right? He guffaws at his own joke. Let’s grab a seat?Sure, I say, although I doubt he hears me. It seems like Kamal Jain mostly talks to himself, and you’re just along for the ride.
The Ritz bar resembles one of those gentlemen’s cigar clubs you see in the movies. A few round booths span one wall, but for the most part it’s padded leather armchairs tucked throughout the room to provide the illusion of privacy for patrons. There’s even a roaring fire in the fireplace, a real one, which crackles as the server leads us past it.We settle in a pair of chairs in the corner of the room. Kamal orders a vodka tonic. It’s ten thirty in the morning, but I don’t comment on it. No way am I criticizing my potential employer’s morning beverage selection. Also, I’m a bit starstruck, so speaking might be a challenge in general. I’ve seen this man’s face on the cover of magazines. I’ve followed his career for years. It’s surreal to be sitting across from someone I’ve admired from afar for so long.
Thank you for coming all this way to see me, Mr. Jain, I start.Mr. Jain! We already discussed this, man—call me Kamal or KJ. ‘Mister’ gives me the heebie-jeebies. Too authoritarian for my liking.
Sorry. Kamal. I decide to be upfront with the guy. I suspect he might appreciate it. I’m sorry. I’m almost embarrassed by how hard I’m fan-boying right now.He gives a loud laugh. Oh, trust me, I can relate. One time I met Stan Lee at a comic book convention, and I almost came in my pants. Swear to God, I felt a tingle in the dingle.
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