Date Shark, Page 5

  “Eli, what are you doing?” Conrad asked, stepping out into the night air.

  “How was your date?” It was an obvious dodge, but he let Eli have it for the moment.

  “Leila is delightful, but you already know that. That’s why you rescheduled with the client you were supposed to meet here tonight. You didn’t want Leila to see you on a date with another woman. And you wanted to see how she and I got along. Jealousy isn’t a good look on you, Eli.”

  Eli wasn’t one to argue when he knew he was wrong. His jaw tightened along with his hands. Just because he knew he was wrong didn’t keep him from disliking the feeling.

  “What are you doing, Eli?”

  “I’m having coffee with Leila, that’s all.”

  Conrad folded his arms across his chest. “Don’t be an idiot, Eli. You told me about the phone call you got from Ana, remember?”

  You kissed her! Eli, what on earth is your problem? You can’t take out a naïve, struggling young woman and give her false hopes! She hired you to guide her, not tease her!

  “Ana was being overdramatic.” She didn’t understand. Even when Eli tried to explain she just got angrier.

  Ana, please. I wasn’t teasing her. Don’t lecture me about my job. I wanted her to remember me. I wasn’t giving her any impression about my feelings that weren’t true.

  What? Eli, how is that any better? She came to you because the poor girl can’t tell a weasel from frog prince to save her life! You swooping in to commandeer her isn’t going to help her improve! You’re just going to make the problem worse. Leila is my employee and my friend. I’ve seen the grief she’s gone through because of the men she’s dated. I’m not about to let her get her heart broken again by the man I recommended to help her!

  Break her heart? Who says I’m going to break her heart?

  What else could you do, Eli? Are you going to give up the date shark thing? You’d have to, of course. No woman would stand for her boyfriend acting like a gigolo on the weekends. You complain that you’re still single despite all the relationships you’ve helped build, but we both know why you’re still single. You aren’t willing to give up the string of women desperate for your help.

  “Ana was right,” Conrad said.

  Eli wanted to argue, but he didn’t. “I could give it up … if Leila is really the right one.”

  “Ah, but how will you know if she’s the right one unless you pursue this. But you can’t date her while still being the city’s best date shark. You, my friend, have a problem,” Conrad said. The smile on his face as he said it didn’t improve Eli’s mood.

  “Who says I have to date Leila to get to know her? I can find out if she’s worth giving it all up by being her friend.” Relationships always have a better chance of lasting if two people are friends before lovers anyway. He told his clients and patients that constantly.

  Conrad’s deep belly laugh filled the cool night. “For all your sage wisdom and clever sayings, don’t tell me you’ve never heard the one that says it’s universally impossible for a guy and girl to just be friends. Maybe it’s just one, maybe it’s both, but trying to pretend you’re only friends will ruin a relationship faster than anything.”

  “Shut up, Conrad. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Eli turned away, intent on getting into his car and driving off. The gentle but firm pressure of Conrad’s hand on his shoulder stopped him. “How is being her friend going to feel when she uses the tips you gave her to land a nice man? Will you be able to give her dating advice when she asks, even if it pulls her further away from you?”

  “I’ll make it work,” Eli grumbled. Pulling away from his friend, he stepped off the curb and got in his car. Leila was going to be wondering where he was soon. Conrad shook his head at Eli as he jumped away from the curb with a lurch, thanks to his Audi’s turbo and his foul mood.

  Eli flew through traffic to make up for his delay and pulled up to the nearly empty café only a few minutes behind Leila. She was stepping through the door of the café when he climbed out of his car. Eager to prove both Conrad and Ana wrong, Eli hurried after her. Leila was already seated in her favorite booth when Eli made it inside. Unfortunately, she wasn’t alone. The friendly barista, Alice, was nowhere to be seen. In her place was a tanned, twenty-something-year-old who was making eyes at Leila. Or at her chest, Eli corrected. Even worse was seeing Leila soaking up the attention. Eli could slide in next to Leila, put his arm around her to make Mr. College Dropout back off. Eli started forward before pausing and mentally slapping himself. Damn, he thought, this is going to be harder than I thought.

  Even still, Eli started walking toward her. His smile returned when the barista with the roving eyes noticed his approach. Confident as he walked up to the booth and sat down, the barista took a conscious step back from the table. His eyes peeled themselves away from Leila and landed on Eli reluctantly.

  “What can I get you?” he asked.

  “Chai latte with cinnamon.”

  “No problem.” The barista’s eyes focused on Eli’s. “Should I ring these up separately, or put them on one ticket?”

  Eli jumped in before Leila could respond, knowing exactly what he was really asking. “Just one ticket will be fine. Thank you.”

  The barista narrowed his eyes at Eli before heading back to the counter. Satisfaction deepened Eli’s smile. Leila was a successful marking director. She didn’t need the lusty interest of a co-ed. When Eli looked back at her, she had one eyebrow raised.

  “I know you told me not to argue when a guy wants to do something for me, but I could have paid for my own coffee.”

  “Humor me,” Eli said, glad she didn’t comment on anything else. “It bothers me to let a woman pay when I’m with her. Maybe that’s one of my faults, but my dad drilled that into me before the concept of going Dutch really got off the ground.”

  “Fault?” Leila laughed. “With an attitude like that you’ll be every woman’s hero.”

  The barista managed to keep his eyes off Leila’s chest when he brought their drinks back to the table. His lesson learned pleased Eli, but even more, he appreciated how Leila barely even noticed him this time. She watched Eli instead. He couldn’t fathom what was running through her mind as she sat across from him, but he hoped it wasn’t Conrad. Despite his reason for inviting her for coffee, Eli didn’t want to talk about her date.

  “I was a little surprised you didn’t call me this week,” Eli said. “You seemed so nervous before our date I thought you might need a pep talk before jumping back in.”

  Plopping her chin into her upturned hand, Leila sighed. “I thought about calling you about a dozen times, but every time I reached for my phone someone else called with another problem. I got so caught up at work, I nearly missed dinner with Conrad. If things had been any slower I would have been on the phone with you all the way to table most likely.”

  Eli kept his smile under control despite its desire to break out. “Leila, you have no reason to get so nervous about a date. Relax, and everything will go much more smoothly.”

  “You do this for a living,” she said, her nose scrunched in annoyance. “Relaxing on a date is nothing for you. For me, as soon as I start thinking about going out with a guy, all my past failures start crowding into my head and I can barely think of anything else.”

  She sighed and leaned back. “It’s not that I’m even desperate to be in a relationship or get married. I just want to know it’s possible. I want to feel like I’m worth having a relationship with, but I feel like I’m only good for getting back at an ex-girlfriend or filling up the plus one on an invitation. I’m the girl guys think of when they need something, or when they want someone to stand next to them at an event. I don’t really know how to change that.”

  Swirling her coffee slowly in her cup, she didn’t look back up at Eli. Eli’s own cup sat abandoned on the table. If he could manage pulling her into his arms and still maintain his dating g
uide and possible friend status, he would have. He couldn’t even think of something to say that wouldn’t divulge how much he wanted to show Leila she was worth so much more than a fallback option.

  Eli took a sip of his coffee, and it sparked his professional side to start working. “You know how you change your status with guys? You turn them down.”

  “Huh?” Leila asked. “I thought you were supposed to help me get dates, not scare them away.”

  “Yes, but the right dates, not just any date.” She frowned at this, and Eli continued. “I’m going to guess that if a guy asks you out, you accept, right? Even if you’re not particularly interested in him?”

  “Well, I don’t want to hurt his feelings. If it goes badly, I don’t have to go out with him again.”

  “You’re too nice, Leila. If guys who know you expect you’ll say yes to a date no matter what, they’ll think of you first when they get stuck in a situation where they need to bring someone along.” Recognition dawned in Leila’s eyes. Eli smiled at her and said, “Make sure guys know you’re only interested in quality dates. Basically, play hard to get. The ones who really want you will ask again. The others won’t.”

  “I guess I never thought of it like that.”

  Taking a deeper draw from his cup, Eli felt rather pleased with himself. Conrad and Ana could keep their opinions to themselves. He could be Leila’s friend and still help her grow as a person. Eli decided to give Leila one more piece of advice when he noticed the barista staring at her from the counter.

  “Take that guy.” Eli motioned at him, not caring whether he knew he was talking about him. “He’s been ogling you since you walked in, but is he really the kind of guy you want to date? He’s either in college, which is going to put him in a whole different mindset than you, or he’s really hoping a career in serving coffee is going to payout big someday.”

  To himself, Eli added that if his focal point of Leila’s neckline was any indication, his interest in her didn’t have anything to do with the long term. Eli was guessing one night might be the length of his attention span.

  “You’re probably right,” Leila admitted, “but he is kinda cute.”

  When Eli’s gaze popped over to her, the expression on her face made him wonder if she said that just to see how he would react. Eli was not disciplined enough to stop himself from obliging her. Eli shrugged, knowing his eyes had narrowed at the barista and was helpless to stop them. “If you say so,” was his brilliant response.

  “Are you coming to the fashion show tomorrow?” Leila asked.

  Her question drew Eli’s glare away from the barista and back to her. Unfortunately it also reminded him of his conversation with Ana. “No. I was recently uninvited to the show. Ana is a little upset with me at the moment.”

  Something sparkled in Leila’s eyes. “Oh really? What happened? Ana almost never gets angry.”

  She does when she thinks someone is going to hurt one of her friends, Eli thought. He was convinced she was a mother bear in a previous life. He was not about to admit the real reason to Leila, so he was forced to make something up. “I inadvertently snubbed one of her designs recently. She refused to let me come to any of her shows until I make up for it.”

  “How are you supposed to do that?”

  Give up being a date shark and prove to her that his interest in Leila was real. How exactly did he do that? “I’m still working on it.”

  “Well, I’m sorry you won’t be there.”

  Eli was too. “Maybe I’ll make the fall show.”

  “I should hope so,” Leila laughed. “It shouldn’t take you that long to convince Ana not to be mad at you anymore.”

  Eli thought Leila might suspect he wasn’t treating her like all his other clients, but he very much doubted she had any inclination of what his real motives were. Regardless, her words hit Eli’s ears like a deadline. Six months from now, Ana’s fall designs would saunter down the red carpet. The only way she’d allow him the privilege of attending was if she was convinced he wasn’t going to hurt Leila. Six months to find out whether he truly wanted to give up being a date shark for Leila without letting her find out that was what he was doing. Conrad thought it was impossible, but Eli was determined to prove him wrong.

  Chapter 6

  Lack of Faith

  Utter chaos rained down around Leila in the form of shoes, beads, bras, and pantyhose. The models may have looked coiffed and perfect as they marched down the runway, but backstage they were terrors screaming at whoever would listen to help them find their next outfit, or crowding around mirrors and scrambling about like mice about to get their tails cut off. Playing model wrangler wasn’t exactly in the job description when Ana hired Leila, but she was backstage doing it anyway. Leila tossed a pair of stilettos at one model and zipped up another one before shoving her toward the runway.

  Leila stepped back into a massive cloud of hairspray and choked on the fumes. Molly mumbled a quick sorry before taking her flawless hair over to the clothes rack to yank out an equally flawless pair of jeans and baggy beaded tee that left one shoulder exposed and hung in a way that managed to accentuate her thin frame rather than hide it. Leila’s own hair and clothes were a disaster. Her hair started out in a bun, but has since fallen out into a sloppy ponytail. The jeans and button down plaid shirt her sister gave her for her birthday looked halfway decent when she arrived that morning. Leila was now missing a button that popped off when Gloria tripped on her heels and grabbed her in an effort to steady herself. Her jeans had a smear of mascara on the hip and foundation spilled down the side. Fashion poster child Leila was not.

  When the last model finally exited the stage Leila was spent. It was after midnight, but she was the only one who dropped. Her butt landed on the steps leading to the runway with a thud. She watched in disbelief as the models pulled on new clothes fit for clubs and bounced out the door like they had all the energy in the world. They were insane. All Leila wanted to do right then was go to bed.

  Knowing she should get up, Leila tried, but the farthest she got was looking up in time to be blinded by a flash of light. Blinking rapidly cleared the spots to reveal a grinning man with a camera staring at her.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, “I couldn’t resist.”

  “Who are you? And what are you doing back here?”

  “I’m Luke Deveron.” When Leila stared at him, unsure of whether that should mean something to her, he continued. “The photographer from the Tribune. I called you … told you I’d be here to cover the show. You are Leila Sparro, aren’t you? Ana told me you were back here.”

  “Oh! Luke, I’m sorry. It’s been a crazy night and I’ve talked to so many people this week. Forgive me for not being able to keep everything straight.”

  “No problem. By the looks of it, you were lucky to survive back here.” His eyes took her in with a smile, reminding Leila of her disheveled appearance. Her hands flew up to try and tackle the worst of it, but Luke said, “Wait, wait. Don’t touch anything. Let me take one more.”

  “What? No way. I’m a mess.”

  He grinned and snapped a picture. “Exactly. I’ll title my article, ‘The Cost of High Fashion,’ and put your picture in the header, eyeliner streaked across your cheek and all. You look like you’re about to wage a fashion war.”

  “Don’t you dare!” Leila exclaimed. She marched toward him, fully intent on grabbing his camera and deleting every picture of herself.

  “Stay back,” he said, waving his hand at her frantically and drawing a momentary smile from her lips before she could resume her march. The flash startled Leila into stopping. Blinded, she paused. Luke’s laughter bubbled around her. She was probably too exhausted to be irritated like she should have been. When Leila could see again, she planted her hands firmly on her hips and demanded he erase the pictures.

  “You should see them first,” he said. Leila scowled at him, making him grin even harder. “I’m serious. Let me show you. You’
ll love them, I promise.”

  Doubtful, but drawn in by his promise, Leila softened her stance and looked over at the LCD screen when he reached her. The first photo of her sitting on the steps surprised Leila. Tones of grey pulled out the details of the leftover chaos. Heels dotted the stairs, a scarf trailed down them amid the mess, and a dress draped over the back of a chair behind her, its pearlescent beads a sparkling halo to her frazzled hair. If there were one picture in the entire world that could have summed up what she just went through, that one would be it.

  Without comment, Luke switched to the next picture, a full body shot of Leila glaring at him. Her hand covered her mouth as she chuckled. She really did look like she was about to go to war. He changed the image again. A close up of just Leila’s face, caught in the one moment Luke had managed to make her smile. Strands of hair fell around her face in loose waves thanks to the bun she had started out with. There really was eyeliner streaked across her cheek, but otherwise her face didn’t look nearly as bad as she expected.

  “This one’s my favorite,” Luke said. His voice next to her ear made Leila realize how close they were standing to each other. She took a step back and bumped into a chair.

  “So, can I keep them?” Luke asked. His scruffy blond beard did nothing to detract from his big blue eyes staring at Leila with a look not even the cutest puppy dog in the world could have managed.

  If Leila couldn’t resist the miniature schnauzer, Snap, she had adored as a child, there was no hope of her resisting Luke. “Fine, but I’m serious about using them. My face does not belong in a newspaper.”

  “Hmm, I might disagree with you on that.” Luke walked over to her and stopped. When he leaned forward she immediately tried to move back. She kept her distance when he reached behind Leila for something. But not too much distance. The buzz of energy running over her body right then made it hard to want to be too far away from him. She barely remembered speaking to Luke on the phone earlier that week, but she was not going to forget this encounter any time soon. He pulled back with a tissue in hand and gently started wiping away the eyeliner. Every stroke of his fingers stole a little of her breath.