Page 46 of Mr. Aster
“Well, tell me what caused this so I can do it again,” she teased. “Perhaps it’ll help us never to argue with each other?”
“Nice try,” I eyed her. “If you must know, I enjoyed myself tonight. Being on a personal level with Jim and his wife was lovely.”
“I noticed that,” she said, her tone soft and warm and influencing my mind like a drug. “Perhaps you should spend more time with Jim. He seems to have a good effect on you.”
“Cute,” I said, knowing she couldn’t resist an opportunity to insult me. “Listen, I know you think I’m an asshole?—”
“It’sallI do know about you,” she interrupted me as she was known to do. “From the moment we first met, you have been nothing but an opinionated dick to me and my family.”
“True,” I sighed, “but you and your family are planted right in the middle of the business I was sent out here to make successful.”
“We’re not your business to change, though,” she said. “Anyway, I was certain that once we got in the car, you would compliment me on my polite table manners.”
“And I did,” I teased her with a quick smile before bringing my eyes back to the road. “I just figured your perfect etiquette and manners were part of the role you were playing?”
“Guess again, buddy,” she said with a laugh, and I was thankful that didn’t provoke the dark side of Darcy I’d only known until tonight. “I eat out with the wealthy all the time. I know how the game is played.”
“Like I said, role-playing,” I chuckled.
“Really?” she sighed, but she wasn’t annoyed; she was playful and allowed this to move into a fun conversation. “You’ve seen me eat dinner at home, and I sure as hell don’t talk with my mouth full of food or lick my fingers and put my feet on the table. So, there wasn’t a role for me to play at dinner tonight.”
“No,” I answered. “However, I don’t want to spoil our nice evening by pissing you off with myopinions.”
“Oh, God,” I saw her roll her eyes in my peripheral vision. “What the hell do I do that’s improper at the dinner table?”
“You really want to know?” I questioned in a fun, mysterious way.
“Yeah. I do.”
“Okay, then,” I tried to think of something because Darcy had never done anything offensive whenever I’d dined with her.
“Ha, there’s nothing,” she said in a smart-ass way.
“No, there is. I don’t know how to say it without further insulting you.”
“Trust me, I’ve become bulletproof after all the insults you’ve managed to throw my family’s way.”
“The bites of food you take are too large,” I said, scrambling for something.
“Oh, get the fuck out of here. Too large? How in the hell did you come up with that conclusion?”
“Well,” I decided to keep it all playful and light, “it’s just rude and offensive.”
“How is taking a bite of food and eating it without smacking or choking considered rude andoffensive?”
“Simple. You’re a beautiful woman, and I would be lying when I say that I don’t appreciate looking at you from time to time,” I smiled over at her, staring at me and waiting for the punch line.
“I’m flattered. Glad I could appease your eyes,” she joked.
“And well, while you’re appeasing my eyes, you’re also teasing a man who hasn’t been laid in over a year by taking those large mouthfuls of food.”
I expected to have her cough out a laugh, but instead, she was her typical Darcy self and sighed in response.
“Well, shit,” she came immediately back. “If I’d known I was sexually torturing you by eating like Shrek at a barbecue, then I would’ve told Antonio to make hot dogs so I could really get you all worked up.”
I raised my eyebrows and shook my head. “I’d actually like to see that,” I answered. “You deepthroating a hot dog might put us in really hot water.”
“I wouldn’t deepthroat it,” she said. “I would cut the thing into small pieces to ensure I didn’t choke on it.”
