Page 31 of Heart Stopping
"I'm sure they do." I grinned.
I'd bet the kids at school gave him grief for his last name. They did the same with me, but I chose to embrace it. After all, what was wrong with a perfectly good erection? So what if they couldn't get their cocks up? That wasn't my problem.
"What were you two so deep in conversation about?" I placed my arms on the table and leaned forward, looking from one to the other and back again. "Whose demise are we plotting?"
The server gave me a funny look before placing my coffee in front of me, but hurried away. No doubt she heard worse in a place like this.
Harlow said, "Someone like Carl," at the same time as Archer said, "You should stay out of it."
Once again, I looked from one to the other. Harlow was so gorgeous, I had a hard time looking away from her. But if they were talking about someone like Carl, then I wanted in.
"Sorry pal," I said to Archer. "I'm already involved. Whatever the beautiful Miss St. James wants me to do, I'll do." I turned back to her. "What do you need?"
"I don't know yet," she said. "Archer was going to tell me what he knew."
She looked at him expectantly.
He looked at me like he wished I'd go away.
I looked at him like he better tell her whatever he was going to tell her or he'd have me to answer to.
She rolled her eyes at both of us, which was fair.
"Not here," Archer finally said. "Somewhere more private."
I jerked a thumb at him while my eyes were on Harlow. "You trust this guy?"
"I trust him as much as I trust you," she said.
"That much, huh?" Okay, that might have meant she didn't trust either of us, but I choose to take it differently. If only for the sake of my ego. Yes, yes, it's not fragile, but I have my moments, all right?
"My gallery is just around the corner," I said. "We can talk in there and not get interrupted." I was on my way there anyway. I'd ducked out for an hour or so to meet up with a new artist, but I needed to get back. Not that the place would fall down without me, but I liked to be there to oversee sales as much as possible. I liked when money changed hands, especially when it was coming straight to me. Okay, me and the artist. Still, money.
Archer looked doubtful.
I leaned toward him and said, "I'm not going to use your bones for a sculpture."
He leaned toward me and said, "I might use yours."
Our faces were maybe an inch apart. Close enough I could smell the coffee on his breath.
I grinned. "Perfect. I've always wanted to be a work of art."
"Are you saying you aren't already one?" Harlow teased.
I turned my face toward her and grinned bigger. "Now you mention it…"
"I read a study once that said unattractive people think they're more attractive than they are," Archer said flatly.
Rather than be offended, I raised an eyebrow at him. "What did it say about people who actually are attractive?"
"You don't have a golden ratio face," he added.
"Mine's more of a fraction than a ratio," I said. "It's a fraction more attractive than yours." I punctuated that statement with a smug smile.
"Studies have shown that English food is ten times more bland than any other cuisine," he retorted.
I barked a ha. "Now you're just making shit up. Next thing you'll say the Earth is flat. Or the moon landing was faked."
