Page 27 of Maneater
My face scrunches up with my next admission.
“He doesn’t…” I sigh, looking at my hands in what feels akin to embarrassment. “He isn’t interested,” I murmur.
Rory releases a loud laugh at my words before finally responding with a shake of her head. “That’s bullshit.”
“I’m serious! I offered! He said he doesn’t fraternize with guests.” I groan, putting my hands to my head.
She pauses then, understanding clearly washing over her. “So, wait, what’s his issue with you? I don’t really get it.”
“Me neither!” I say, shoving my hands up in the air. “He was getting his master’s when I was in college, and I was at a lot of the same parties and whatnot as him because I was running my side business.”
In college, I began using my talent for flirting to coax the truth out of just about any man to help my friends. Sometimes, it was to find out if their boyfriends would cheat when tempted. Others wanted to determine if someone had stolen something from their room or just to get us into the most exclusive parties.
But quickly, friends of friends started coming to me, asking for these favors and actually paying me for it. I was about to graduate and head to the FBI academy, figuring I would use my skills for good there, when Gabriel approached me with an offer I couldn’t refuse.
And now, six years later, I’m a Maven.
“I didn’t see him for years after he graduated, but then last year, he started showing up at the same places as me while I was on assignments.”
“Okay. Okay,” Rory says, pacing the way I was, but in a much less frantic and frazzled way, as she understands how things are a bit morecomplicated than she thought. “First things first, did you tell him what you do at any point while you were at the bar? Or in previous conversations?”
I shake my head quickly.
“No. You know that. I never tell anyone what I do.” In the nearly impossible case something like this happens, none of the Mavens talk about who or what they’re assigned to with anyone the moment they’ve been given an assignment. Some of us, including myself, don’t even tell people exactly what we do until it becomes absolutely necessary. “We didn’t really get intogetting to know youkind of things. He was an ass, and I was, well, me, and then the flirting started, and then…” My mind goes back to him grabbing hold of my hand and pulling me into the office.
“This is fine. Actually, this is good. We can work with this,” Rory says, her mind clearly working on some new plan. Where I’m the one who executes and gets what we need from our targets, Rory is the planner and organizer, constantly tying up loose ends and figuring out the next steps. We’re a good team, and it’s why we’re often paired together for assignments.
“Can we?”
“Yes. First, we need to figure out what exactly he does here,” she says, opening her computer. “Name?”
“Rowan Fisher.”
She nods, then goes quiet as she spends a few moments doing God knows what before a wide smile splits her face, and she turns the screen to me. On the screen is a professional headshot.
“That’s him!” I say excitedly, always impressed when she can do something like that.
“Don’t look at me like I’m some kind of savant; I literally just googled Daydream Resorts and Rowan,” she says with an eye roll, and I shrug, impressed nonetheless. “Vice President of Operations,” she confirms under her breath. “Thirty-three. Youngest one they’ve ever had.”
“Is he single?” I ask, and her gaze snaps to me with a glare. “What? I’m just curious.”
“Josephine.” That’s when I know Rory means business; the full name comes out.
“Aurora,” I mock in return. Her glare continues, and I roll my eyes once more before explaining. “Just so I don’t feel guilty about flirting. That’s it.”
She gives me a disbelieving look, and I can’t blame her.
“Sure it is.” I ignore her as she does her work, clicking a few more times before shaking her head. “Yes. From what I can see, he’s single. Doesn’t even bring dates to the company events.”
A slight warmth runs through me, and I tell myself it’s simply because I’m happy I didn’t potentially fuck with a relationship. It’s the only real time I feel guilty about this job: when my target is someone who is happily in a relationship, and I have to prove, once again, that men are pieces of shit.
While I’m lost in my thoughts, Rory continues typing, her near-platinum blonde hair spilling over her shoulder as her face scrunches with confusion before clearing.
“He was the main advocate for this location. An article that was published around the grand opening has an interview with him.” She spins the computer my way, and a photo of Rowan standing in front of the resort’s main attraction, the miles of pristine beach, is on the screen. I begin reading the article below.
Rowan Fisher tells us he was the leading champion for Daydream Resorts, choosing this location.
“They wanted somewhere further from home, more of a destination. But I knew we’d have some great luck in this place. I knew it down to my soul. And now look at it—it’s gorgeous. Perfect, even.”
