“He’s a terrible choice. He’s…” A slew of adjectives describing Seth ran through Heather’s head, none as demeaning as she’d like. “I don’t even like him. He’s a total ass.”
“A total hot ass.”
Heather sighed. “Yes.”
Silence settled over them and, as the tequila made its way through Heather’s veins, she began to relax for the first time in two days.
After a while, Lexie sat forward and looked around. “The party seems to be winding down. I’m going to head out. Do you need anything before I go?”
“You got me all checked in?” Knowing how beat she’d be after the night was over, Heather had opted to rent a room in the hotel.
“Yes. Your luggage is in your room. Room 417.” Lexie dug into her purse and pulled out a hotel key that she handed to Heather. “Here’s your key card.”
“And I’m in the spa tomorrow?” Had her words sounded slurred? She probably should have eaten something.
“Yes, booked all day.” Lexie eyed her suspiciously. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, totally.” She stretched. “I’m just really tired.”
“Then relax and enjoy tomorrow. I don’t want to hear from you until at least late afternoon.”
God, Lexie was an assistant sent from heaven. She pictured Lexie with angel wings and started to giggle.
“Maybe you should call it a night now. You’re starting to get loopy. You didn’t eat anything today, did you? Do you need me to help you to your room before I leave?”
“Nah, I got it.”
Lexie stood then leaned down to give her boss a hug. “Say your goodbyes and get to bed. And if you end up in bed with that carpenter…”
Heather rolled her eyes. “Stop it. I’m not going to bed with him.” But she couldn’t shake the feeling that she and Seth had unfinished business. Maybe she’d talk to him one more time. Make sure he’d gotten the drill she’d left on the counter in the loading dock. Maybe give him kudos for his set pieces. Maybe give him a piece of her mind.
Or a piece of her body.
But maybe first another drink.
Seth had managed to avoid Heather since their hot make-out session at lunch. It was obvious there wasn’t a worse match for him than the feisty blonde, but God, he hadn’t met a more responsive woman. The way her mouth had opened to him, the feel of her sexy legs wrapped around him and her gorgeous tits pressing against him. She was so damn hot.
He’d been so consumed with her, Seth had almost missed out on the satisfaction of a job well done. Almost, but not quite.
“The Urban Arts program is going to make out on that auction next month,” Neil said, handing Seth another beer. “The general feedback is very favorable. It was a great suggestion. Maybe we’ll even add it to the New York plays in November.”
“Thanks, man. I feel good about it.” He’d feel even better if he hadn’t nearly molested the spokeswoman for the event in the back of the theater earlier in the day. Twice. Actually, the thing he felt the worst about where Heather was concerned was not finishing what he’d started.
“You should feel good. You are totally invited back next year. If you don’t mind me asking, though, how come you didn’t want anyone to know you donated the materials?”
Seth hesitated. Neil was a good guy, real down-to-earth and a major supporter of bringing Seth’s set idea to life. He popped the top off his beer—his sixth in an hour. “Truthfully,” he said after taking a swallow, “I don’t really care who knows. As long as Heather Wainwright doesn’t know.”
“Heather?” Neil’s eyes widened in surprise. “Why… Actually, don’t answer. I have a feeling I don’t want to know.”
“Maybe I’m being a dick.” No maybe about it, he was being a giant dick. “But she’s stuck-up. And this whole project—the Urban Arts, the 24-Hour plays—is about helping the less fortunate. Not about alienating or demeaning people who are considered beneath you.” Though he wouldn’t mind being beneath Heather. In the physical sense, anyway.
“I get it.” Neil opened his mouth to say more and then stopped himself.
“Go ahead. Say whatever you want. I probably need to hear it.”
“It’s just that I’ve worked on the shows for as long as Heather. She can come off as a real snob. At heart, she’s not like that. She believes in the project and the work we do. I think there’s something personal about it for her.”
Seth rolled his bottle between his palms, wondering if he should slow down. “I suspect you’re right. But it’s personal for me too.” He used to deny and hide his past. Then he learned the hard way that he couldn’t run from who he was. That was when he realized that he wouldn’t be where he was today if it hadn’t been for where he came from. If Heather had a similar story, then she needed to embrace it as well.
Just his personal opinion.
“Speak of the devil,” Neil said, his eyes pinned to a spot behind Seth.
Seth turned to see what Neil was looking at. There was Heather, heading straight toward him, her sexy sway accentuated by her hip-clinging dress. If he wanted to continue to avoid her, he needed to go now.
Or he could just stay right where he was and see how things played out.
The latter option certainly seemed more fun. Okay, he’d definitely had more beers than he should have.
And the way Heather was weaving suggested she might have had a bit too much to drink herself.
He excused himself from Neil, who gave him a knowing grin and stepped out to meet her approach. A good idea, since, when she was only few feet away from him, she stumbled. Setting his beer bottle on the table next to him, he caught her at the elbows to steady her and tried not to notice how her soft skin pimpled into goose bumps under his fingers.
“Hey, you don’t need to catch me all the time.”
Her breath was a warm breeze on his face twisted with the fragrance of alcohol and orange juice. Yep, she’d definitely been indulging.
“Then quit falling all over me.” It took all his strength to not pull her closer to him. Even drunk, she was tempting and sexy as f**k.
“You wish.” She shrugged out of his grasp. God, if his hands didn’t feel empty without her in them. “I need to say something to you.”
Seth chuckled. “Of course you do.”
She placed her fists on her hips, attempting—he suspected—to look threatening. Instead she looked even more adorable. He wanted nothing more than to throw her across the buffet table and ravage her. Not stand and take whatever insult she planned on dishing out next and pretend that each curt word didn’t make his dick harder.