Page 37 of How NOT to Seduce a Rockstar
“Exactly. I like the quiet ones.”
Tess stared him down. And it wasn’t a neutral stare. It was the kind of look a duchess in the 1700s would give a servant who dared to serve her tea with whole milk instead of low-fat.
Then, with a voice cold enough to frost glass, she said, “Let us in. And she’ll give you her number.”
“Excuse me?!” I said, appalled, like I’d just been traded for five minutes of live music.
“Exactly,” Tess replied, not even looking at me. All’s fair in love and war.
The bouncer looked genuinely tempted. He thought about it for a second, then nodded, almost talking to himself.
“Actually,” Tess added, “you know what? I’ll give it to you.”
She recited the number in the sweet tone of a porcelain wind chime. And of course, she intentionally botched the last digit. The guy pulled out his phone and started typing.
“Not so fast,” he said, holding it up to his ear. “I just want to be sure…”
Tess and I exchanged a look. The kind of look two amateur jewel thieves would share after tripping a silent alarm.
I started patting my jeans like I’d lost a winning lottery ticket.
“I think I… left it at home,” I said.
The phone kept ringing.
And then, divine intervention: the walkie-talkie on the guy’s belt crackled like an angry frog.
“Bruce, you copy?”
He snapped to attention, killed the call, and pressed the button.
“Yeah, go ahead.”
“We’ve got a code yellow in section eight. Go back up those guys.”
“On my way.”
He gave us one last look. He was torn—debating whether to follow protocol or give in to temptation in high-heeled boots. Then he made the right call. He cracked the door just enough and gestured us in.
“Go ahead,” he said. Then gave me a half-shysmile. “Name’s Max. I’m in town till Friday.”
“Great!” I said, with an enthusiasm so fake it deserved an Academy Award. “Catch you later…”
16
We were in.
Mission accomplished.
Minimal collateral damage.
Maybe.
“Well, well, well…” I said once we were alone. “Remind me again what you said about the duchess and the peasants? Because clearly, I’m the one who made an impression tonight.”
Tess turned with the look of someone who’d been waiting all evening for this very moment.
“Bea, my sweet naïve girl, what just happened is perfectly explained by the Theory of Reflected Aura. It’s a well-documented social phenomenon—by me, about five minutes ago.”
