Page 14 of The True Garza
“Theydon’thave a budget, by the way. Not surprising,” he says. “But we’ll take care of it. We’re good to go with getting you feeling confident.”
“Getting me…what?”
“You can’t play this role if you’re convinced you’re ‘too old.’ Your confidence has gotta be at peak level.”
Makes sense. “What’s your plan?”
He jerks his head to a black SUV across the parking lot, in a reserved spot. “Come on.”
Yeah, I’m not getting in an enclosed space with him. If I’m this sexually heightened in a wide-open parking lot with the hot sun beating down on us, then locking myself in a car with him, breathing the same air, would be a terribly bad idea. Not because I think he’ll try anything with me, but becauseIprobably will. It also doesn’t help that he’s the last person I had sex with. Yeah, I’ve been dry for over a year, and now, just having him this close to me is fucking with my body temperature and heart rate.
The farther I can be from this man, the better.
“I’ll drive behind you,” I tell him.
Something glints in his eyes. “Think you can keep up with me in that thing?”
I point a threatening finger at him. “Diss Tammy again and I promise you won’t like it.”
“Fine,” he says, backing up across the lot. “I’ll just stay under the speed limit to accommodate you.”
I flip him the bird then get in my car. And it’s only then that I allow myself to breathe properly.
Well, shit.
Working with this man isn’t going to be easy.
~
Half an hourlater, after I’ve parked next to True in a paid parking lot, I get out of my car, slamming the door behind me and bite angrily, “Next time, I’ll just ask you for the address and meet you there.”
What should have been a twelve-minute drive took over thirty damn minutes, because he drove unbearably slow, and since I hadn’t known where we were headed, I had to match his speed.
He casually slips on a pair of mirrored aviators. “What’re you griping about? I was just trying to accommodate your ol—er, classic.”
Irritated, I punch his hard-muscled arm. “Aged doesn’t mean powerless. Tammy could still dust that overly expensive new-age hunk of metal.”
“Wanna put 5K down on that? I love a good challenge.”
“If I actually believed you’d play fair, I would.”
He laughs. “Smart woman.”
We leave the parking lot and cross the street to an establishment called Jules’s Touch.
“What’s this place?”
He holds the door open for me to enter. “Jules is a Red Cage wife. According to her branding, this is ‘theone-stop shop for all your self-care and confidence-boosting needs.’”
My upper arm brushes just a smidge across his hard chest as I breeze past, walking inside, and I bite my tongue in an attempt to dull the shiver that coasts down my spine from the contact.
Cool, vanilla-scented air kisses my skin. There’s no air-conditioning in Tammy so the drive here was not only irritatingly slow, but hot as hell. This cool, clean air is much appreciated.
Jules’s Touch is a classy, tasteful boutique and salon. The staff wears crisp, plum-colored uniforms, and everyone is dazzlingly gorgeous and well put together. Which makes sense if this place is meant to beautify and boost confidence.
“Hey, True,” greets the pretty brunette at reception, her eyes glazing over as she openly ogles him.
Yep, these two have for sure had sex.
