Read Online Regrets Only by M. J. Pullen - Free Book Online Page A

up at the rather
squat man. “Now, Mr. Basille,” she trilled. “Please don’t leave us! Let me find
out what’s going on. It’ll take two seconds. What are you two drinking?”
    She
directed this question at Mr. Basille’s date, who replied with a haughty, “Pinot
Grigio.”
    “For
you as well?” She turned to Mr. Basille, who nodded reluctantly.
    That
was his cue. Chad stepped forward. “Chad, honey,” Suzanne said. “Go grab the
seating chart for me, and ask Ramon to get Mr. Basille and his date a chilled
bottle of their best Pinot Grigio, immediately. Tell him to add it to my tab.”
    “Now,
that’s not—” Mr. Basille started.
    “Of
course it is. It’s my pleasure.” Suzanne’s eyes twinkled up at him, almost
flirtatious, for a long second. Finally, he smiled awkwardly in return, and his
date shifted her weight behind him, irritated. Chad slid off to get the seating
chart, stopping a passing waiter to send over the wine.
    By
the time he returned, Mr. Basille seemed far more at ease. His date, on the
other hand, seemed anything but amused, despite the fact that she had already drained
her glass. Chad handed Suzanne the seating chart, and she pretended to study it
intently. She gave several “Hmms…” while she looked at it and Chad noticed that
she bit her lip suggestively as she thought. This had the desired effect: Mr.
Basille was clearly entranced.
    “There’s
no other way,” she announced to Chad finally. “There’s obviously been a big
mistake in our office and we didn’t properly assign Mr. Basille to VIP seating.
Let’s move the Bickersons to another table, here in the back, and put Mr.
Basille and his date here. Mr. Basille, please accept my apologies for the
inconvenience and enjoy ten free casino chips on me.”
    She
fished a sachet of casino chips out of her handbag, and gave them to his date
rather than Mr. Basille. The former smiled perfunctorily and tucked them away
in her clutch.
    “Thank
you,” Basille said, unable to find any continued reason to be angry. “I didn’t
mean to yell at you. It’s just—”
    “Not
at all,” Suzanne stopped him, polished fingers brushing lightly across his arm
once more. “Just have a wonderful evening and do make sure you bid on something
fun for me at the silent auction, okay?” She glanced back at Mr. Basille’s date,
who looped her arm through his and squeezed territorially as she looked down
her nose at Suzanne.
    “How
do you do it?” Chad asked her as the couple walked away.
    “That’s
what the Bickersons are for,” she answered with a shrug. “You know that.”
    Of
course, Chad knew the Bickersons didn’t really exist. They were the fake couple
assigned seating at every event, usually in or near the VIP section, in order
to provide wiggle room for just such emergencies. “That’s not what I meant. I
mean, how do you…how do you turn them around so quickly? That guy was livid
when I got over here.”
    Suzanne
looked at him, her eyes tired but sharp. “Well, it’s all about what you can
learn about people just by paying attention. Start with his suit. Expensive,
but didn’t fit perfectly. New money.”
    Chad
glanced at the retreating Mr. Basille and confirmed that his suit hung off his
shoulders just a bit. Suzanne went on, “His shoes were black leather,
conservative. No scuffs. I’m thinking he’s not a Dylan Burke fan. You’ll notice
there are many tuxedos wandering around with snakeskin boots underneath, but
Mr. Basille isn’t that type. His date, on the other hand—too much makeup and a
cheap spray tan. That dress was too low cut for an evening at the High. She’s
more the right age, too. For Dylan, I mean…”
    Suzanne
looked a bit dreamy for a second in spite of herself. Don’t like him, my
ass, Chad thought.
    She
snapped out of it quickly and went on with her tutorial. “He had a pot belly
and bags under his eyes. There was still a little indentation on his left hand
where a ring used to be. So I