Read Online Gorgeous Rotten Scoundrel by Nina G. Jones - Free Book Online
Authors: Nina G. Jones
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smells so good.
"No!" Mindy cried.
"Hells no! I'm sure it's fine and I am determined for you to have fun tonight. I'm the boss and I am ordering you. Let's go."
Heath put his arms around both of our shoulders and lead us back to the party downstairs. The eyes of all his potential ass-pieces bored holes through my body as we left the media room. Don't worry ladies, he is all yours tonight. The third drink was handed to me by Heath, who pulled me up to him to dance. Mindy had already found a young hottie to cling to and so it was just him and me.
I tried to shake Heath off, but eventually I relented to his persistence.
"Come on, take some shots with me."
"I have to stay alert. I'm already three drinks in now."
"Don't worry about it. The party is handled. Let's get to know each other, roomie."
We headed to the bar and Heath grabbed an entire bottle of Petron, a lime, and a salt shaker.
"Come on."
"Where are we going?"
"Follow me."
We passed the pool and a security guard. We were now outside of the limits of the party. There was a small wooden fence that I had never crossed, assuming it was the border of his property.
"Are we trespassing?"
"No! This is part of the house."
He opened the wooden barrier and beyond the lush green foliage there was a small path which opened up to a rock garden. It was palely lit by a few lanterns and looked so peaceful and serene in this dark night.
"This is so gorgeous."
"I know. Sold me on the place when I looked around. Check this out." He grabbed a rake and raked the sand. I stood there not sure if I should act impressed by the very mundane display. "That seemed much cooler in my head," he confessed. I tried hard not to smile.
"So you want to do tequila shots here? Doesn't seem like the proper venue," I asked.
"Yeah, it was too loud to hear you speak in there half of the time."
"Okay, but just two. I don't want to get sick. And we use arms."
"Strictly professional," he winked. Dammit, he's growing on me again, like mold.
We used our own arms to host the salt lick and so the first shot was purely platonic. I get friendly when I drink and so each drink bore another chink in my armor.
"You hate me? Don't you?"
"Why do you say that?" I asked.
"See? You don't even deny it."
"I don't hate you."
"Tell me. You can be honest. I won't fire you. I promise."
"A drunken reassurance. How ironclad."
"I think I've been pretty good to you so far, so I'd like to know. Honestly, this doesn't happen to me. So it drives me nuts when it does." I hold in a laugh. That is precisely why I can't stand you.
"I don't hate you."
"But I get under your skin."
"Really? You really want me to go there?"
"Bring it."
"I don't hate you. I just know your type."
"My type?" he asked, in an over the top innocent manner.
"You're good looking, you get all the girls, the world is your oyster."
"And that's a problem because?"
"Because people get hurt by people like you. The rest of us. The plebes."
"You're no plebe."
"If you say so."
"So wait, you don't like me because I use my looks to get ahead?"
"I never said I didn't like you."
"Right."
"It's just that you probably never suffer consequences. Guys want to be you and girls want to fuck you and so you can just do whatever you please."
"You know what's funny about you? You walk around like you are some sort of plain-Jane who has never benefitted off of her looks."
"I haven't."
"Bullshit. You think Brock would have hired you if you looked like Julia Child? Or I would have for that matter? The only difference between you and I is that I acknowledge my advantage and you just sit on your high horse while you benefit from the same exact thing." The strange thing about our conversation was, even though we were being so direct, we weren't fighting, at least it didn't feel that way. It was one of the more open conversations I can remember ever having.
"I would like to think I was hired for my skills and credentials." I knew that was total bullshit in
"No!" Mindy cried.
"Hells no! I'm sure it's fine and I am determined for you to have fun tonight. I'm the boss and I am ordering you. Let's go."
Heath put his arms around both of our shoulders and lead us back to the party downstairs. The eyes of all his potential ass-pieces bored holes through my body as we left the media room. Don't worry ladies, he is all yours tonight. The third drink was handed to me by Heath, who pulled me up to him to dance. Mindy had already found a young hottie to cling to and so it was just him and me.
I tried to shake Heath off, but eventually I relented to his persistence.
"Come on, take some shots with me."
"I have to stay alert. I'm already three drinks in now."
"Don't worry about it. The party is handled. Let's get to know each other, roomie."
We headed to the bar and Heath grabbed an entire bottle of Petron, a lime, and a salt shaker.
"Come on."
"Where are we going?"
"Follow me."
We passed the pool and a security guard. We were now outside of the limits of the party. There was a small wooden fence that I had never crossed, assuming it was the border of his property.
"Are we trespassing?"
"No! This is part of the house."
He opened the wooden barrier and beyond the lush green foliage there was a small path which opened up to a rock garden. It was palely lit by a few lanterns and looked so peaceful and serene in this dark night.
"This is so gorgeous."
"I know. Sold me on the place when I looked around. Check this out." He grabbed a rake and raked the sand. I stood there not sure if I should act impressed by the very mundane display. "That seemed much cooler in my head," he confessed. I tried hard not to smile.
"So you want to do tequila shots here? Doesn't seem like the proper venue," I asked.
"Yeah, it was too loud to hear you speak in there half of the time."
"Okay, but just two. I don't want to get sick. And we use arms."
"Strictly professional," he winked. Dammit, he's growing on me again, like mold.
We used our own arms to host the salt lick and so the first shot was purely platonic. I get friendly when I drink and so each drink bore another chink in my armor.
"You hate me? Don't you?"
"Why do you say that?" I asked.
"See? You don't even deny it."
"I don't hate you."
"Tell me. You can be honest. I won't fire you. I promise."
"A drunken reassurance. How ironclad."
"I think I've been pretty good to you so far, so I'd like to know. Honestly, this doesn't happen to me. So it drives me nuts when it does." I hold in a laugh. That is precisely why I can't stand you.
"I don't hate you."
"But I get under your skin."
"Really? You really want me to go there?"
"Bring it."
"I don't hate you. I just know your type."
"My type?" he asked, in an over the top innocent manner.
"You're good looking, you get all the girls, the world is your oyster."
"And that's a problem because?"
"Because people get hurt by people like you. The rest of us. The plebes."
"You're no plebe."
"If you say so."
"So wait, you don't like me because I use my looks to get ahead?"
"I never said I didn't like you."
"Right."
"It's just that you probably never suffer consequences. Guys want to be you and girls want to fuck you and so you can just do whatever you please."
"You know what's funny about you? You walk around like you are some sort of plain-Jane who has never benefitted off of her looks."
"I haven't."
"Bullshit. You think Brock would have hired you if you looked like Julia Child? Or I would have for that matter? The only difference between you and I is that I acknowledge my advantage and you just sit on your high horse while you benefit from the same exact thing." The strange thing about our conversation was, even though we were being so direct, we weren't fighting, at least it didn't feel that way. It was one of the more open conversations I can remember ever having.
"I would like to think I was hired for my skills and credentials." I knew that was total bullshit in
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