Page 24 of Sticky Fingers
It doesn’t take long for the driver to pull up in front of the Time Warner Center, the building’s glass façade reflecting New York’s night lights.
Walking inside, I spot Malcolm in the lobby, looking straight at me.
His hands are stuffed into his pockets, making him look laid back and in control. That’s just for show, though—one close look at him and I know I have an effect on him. His jaw is twitching, his eyes are dilated, and I think I see a slight bulge in his pants.
One point for Sonia, zero for Malcolm.
Game on.
I walk towards him, and he holds his hand out for me to take. With a mocking grin on his lips, he plants a kiss on my hand, all while keeping his eyes on me.
Holy crap, he’s hot.
“Glad you came,” he says with a smirk. “You look stunning. Ready to eat?”
“Thank you,” I reply. “And yes. Starving.”
We take the elevator to the fourth floor and into Per Se, and we’re lead to a table by a window with a stunning view of Central Park and the city at night.
Malcolm pulls a chair out for me before taking his own and then orders an expensive Pinot Noir for us to get started.
Seems like the man can be a gentleman if he tries hard enough.
As I take my first sip of the wine, I decide to come out swinging. Malcolm doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy that pussy-foots around hard subjects, so I think he’ll appreciate it.
And if he doesn’t?
Well, maybe he’s not as exciting as I thought he was. Which would be a real shame, you know? Considering what he did to me the other night after I hid the painting.
But just between you and me? I think this is going to be great.
“So, Malcolm,” I start, running my fingertip over the rim of my glass. “I read quite a bit about you recently.”
Malcolm looks at me, mirth glinting in those soulful eyes of his.
“Oh?” he asks. “Where did you read all this?”
I smile. “A file,” I say demurely.
“And what exactly did you read?” he presses.
“You’re not just a run-of-the-mill asshole… You run things in this city, or so people think.”
As I say it, I suddenly find my heart beating a little faster. I’m curious about how he’ll react. Will he be mad; will he lie?
“Is that so?” is all he says as he sips his wine.
Well, that was easy. He isn’t backpedaling; sure, he isn’t confirming anything either, but I guess he already knows that I know. So, I simply carry on.
“Malcom Push of the Push Organization…” I begin, smiling at him, I brush the tip of my shoe against his legs.
I make it seem casual, although I’m definitely doing it on purpose.
“I’ve always been curious though. From what I’ve heard, you run things…in a soft manner. You’re cautious about the way you do business, aren’t you? No drugs, no contract killings, nothing that will draw the wrath of the law. It seems rather…tame.”
“Tame?” This time he just laughs, leaning back against his seat and looking straight into my eyes.
I hold my ground, matching his stare. God, he’s so beautiful. Why does he have to be so gorgeous?
