Captivate her: Laws of Seduction Book 1 (5 page)

James

The night before had been one of the most incredible nights of my life, but from the tone of his note, it had just been another one-night stand for James. Who has to work on a Saturday morning anyway? Confusion and humiliation rise up inside me. I need to calm down. I am overthinking this. It was a one-night stand. It happens all the time, right? Me feeling like we had a special connection doesn’t mean anything. The thought that James experienced nights like ours on a regular basis makes me feel slightly ill. I wonder how many women have woken up in his bed to find a similar note on his pillow. Breakfast may not be an option. Sex, it was just sex. I realize that I don’t want to stay in James’s apartment another second. As I jump out of bed, my muscles mock me with their soreness. I wonder if they will ever get this kind of workout again.

I go into the bathroom to take a quick shower, but that just reminds me of the sweet, slow shower sex we had the night before. Deciding I can do without the shower, I throw on my clothes, double-check that I am not leaving anything behind, and leave James’s apartment.

The next week I receive calls for two interviews at New York firms. I should be ecstatic, but the “train incident,” as I now refer to my encounter with James, casts a pall over my excitement. I don’t understand how it can affect me so much, but it does, despite my best efforts at shrugging it off. Although the end is in sight, I still have to get through finals before graduating. Even if I land a position at a law firm, it is not unheard of for a firm to retract a job offer if the applicant’s grades slide in the last semester. 

Sam has been plaguing me all week to start giving men more of a chance. She says if I want to experience more mind-blowing encounters like the “train incident,” then I have to start putting myself out there. With this in mind we go out on Thursday night with some of our classmates. I try to look at everyone with a fresh pair of eyes. Can I help it if I am only attracted to sex gods?

I think back to what exactly I found so attractive about James, other than his good looks of course. There had been amazing chemistry, I realize. He also seemed to understand exactly what my body needed and wasn’t shy about taking control. My reaction to him surprised me, since I usually am not interested in being told what to do. As a matter of fact, most of the time when someone tells me to do something I go out of my way to do the exact opposite. I think this stems from the fact that I have two older brothers who constantly tell me what to do.

It could also relate to my relationship with my mother. When I was three, she started taking me to beauty pageants. She would dress me up like a doll and enrolled me in dance. I finally put my foot down when I was seven years old.  What I mean by putting my foot down is that I had the tantrum of all tantrums in front of an auditorium full of pageant spectators. My mother was so embarrassed that I never had to go back again. Although to give her credit, I also think that she could see how unhappy it was making me. My mother may be too fixated on appearances and sometimes delusional, but I know she also loves me. This is also one of my deepest, darkest secrets. The only people who know about my short stint in pageantry are my parents and my brothers. I told my mother that I would chop off all my hair if she ever talked about it to anyone. Although I have been fairly successful at relegating this embarrassing time of my life to the past, my mother still insists on keeping photos as mementos in her bedroom. Needless to say, I avoid her room like the plague. She insists that if I were not so stubborn, I could be Miss America today, which is, of course, ridiculous. To this day, my brothers find her delusions of grandeur hilarious and tease me mercilessly.

The bar is starting to get loud, and I am considering going outside with the smokers when Alex Matthews, one of the guys from my study group, comes up and gives me a one-armed hug. “Hey Laine, I heard you got an interview at Houghton Mills.”

“Yeah, I go in next Tuesday morning. Have you got anything lined up?”

“Believe it or not, I am interviewing there too. I guess we will be competing against each other. May the best man – or woman – win,” he says with a laugh.

Alex is one of the most laid-back people I know, so he does not seem to be stressing about competing for the position. Not that he has anything to worry about. He has always been one of the best students and gets along with everyone. I am sure he won’t have a problem landing a job.

Glancing around the bar, I notice several groups of law students from my classes. Some of them I only know in passing and others I know well. A small wave of sadness wells up inside me. I wonder how many of my law school friends I will continue to see. Maybe some of them will be my opponents in cases, and some of them will move away. At any rate I know that although law school has brought us together, we are bound to drift apart. To rid myself of my melancholy mood, I decide to step outside for some fresh air.

A cool breeze hits me as I walk outside.  Even though the smokers are polluting the air with their cigarettes, it is refreshing compared to the hot, humid air inside the bar. My ex-boyfriend Mark is standing in a small group next to the door. He also isn’t a smoker, but appears to be chatting with two attractive blonds who are holding cigarettes. I wonder if I have enough time to go back into the bar before he sees me, but then I realize it is too late. He has already caught sight of me and is excusing himself from the blondes. He steps over to me and gives me a big hug. Stepping back, he continues to hold my shoulders, “Hey, sweetness. I didn’t know you were here tonight. I would have come in to see you.”

I hate it that he still calls me that, and I
 
shift subtly, hoping that he will release my shoulders. “That’s okay. I haven’t been here long.”

He does finally let go, but then turns,
 
draping one arm over my shoulders and guiding me back toward the door, leaving the two women he was chatting with without another word. I do my best to ignore their dirty looks. “Now that I know you are here, let me buy you a drink.”

Considering my options, I decide on the choice with the least drama. The best way to deal with Mark is to have a drink with him and then make an excuse to leave. One of the most frustrating things about our relationship was that he would not listen. I could talk until I was blue in the face, but no matter what I said, Mark would do whatever he wanted. Although his cocky self-assuredness was one of the things that drew me to him in the first place, I started to feel a marked similarity between him and my mother. A second mother in my life was the last thing I needed.

“Do you want a gin and tonic or are you drinking something else tonight?” he asks solicitously.

“Gin and tonic is fine.” Maybe if I keep my answers short, he will get the hint.

After getting our drinks, Mark starts rambling on about our Ethics professor.  I smile and nod my head absently in agreement when I notice that it has become quiet for too long. I look up from my drink to see Mark looking at me expectantly. Oh shit, did he just ask me something? I can either pretend like I heard what he said or ask him to repeat the question. He hates it when I do that. I attempt lamely, “It’s so loud in here. Can you repeat that?”

Mark gives me a look of exasperation, “Lainey, you weren’t even listening to me.”

“Of course I was listening.” I reach out and give his arm a pat in a desperate attempt to appease him. “It is just really loud in here. What were you saying?”

Arms wrap around me from behind and I smell Sam’s fruity shampoo. “Lainey, where have you been? I have been looking all over for you. Are you ready to go? I have to be up early for a tutorial.”

I jump up out of my seat. “Sure, we can go now.” I look over at Mark, who has a frown on his face. “Thanks for the drink, Mark. I guess I will see you in class.” I give him a smile and a small wave before turning to walk out of the bar with Sam.

“Oh my frickin’ God,” I say as soon as we are out of the bar. “Thank you for saving me. I don’t think tonight was what you had in mind as far as opening myself up to new opportunities. The only guys I talked to were Alex and Mark.”

“I guess not,” Sam snickers, and I wonder how much she has had to drink. “I came over as soon as I saw that Mark had you cornered. You know, one thing you can say for Mark, he is persistent, and actually, I think Alex is into you too. You should give him a chance.”

I glance over at Sam skeptically. “Alex? We are talking about the Alex from the study group, right?”

“Yes, Alex from our study group. I am beginning to think there is something seriously wrong with your guydar.”

I grab on to Sam’s arm as she teeters on her high heels. “Guydar? What do you mean? Is Alex really an Alexa?”

“Huh?” Sam gives me a baffled look. “Who’s Alexa?”

Now I am beginning to think that Sam has had a few too many. “What do you mean something is wrong with my guydar?”

“Guydar... You know, like radar that tells you whether a guy is into you or not.”

I double over laughing. “Um, Sam, guydar is the ability to tell if a person is a man or a woman.”

Sam reels back and looks at me with a shocked expression. “Really? Then what is the ability to tell if a guy is into you or not?”

“I am not sure, but I am one hundred percent certain that it is not guydar.”

“Well, that just doesn’t make any sense. It should be guygirldar, right? They are discriminating against women by leaving women out of the name.”

After a series of occupied cabs, I see one with its available light on heading in our direction and stick out my arm. “Ok, Sam, whatever you say.” I usher her into the cab and give the driver our address.

CHAPTER 6

Saturday morning, I go for a run. Instead of heading north to Central Park like I usually do, I run south towards the Battery. A pleasant breeze comes off the Hudson River as I follow it down the West Side. I pass the Intrepid Museum at 49th Street, and as I go by the heliport on 34th, I wonder if John F. Kennedy Jr. ever flew out of there. The path also passes in front of James’s building. This route is its own kind of torture. I imagine seeing James. Although it is unlikely that I would see him, since the entrance to his building is on the other side of the street. I imagine him looking out of his big windows at the exact moment that I run by, recognizing me as his one-night stand from the weekend before.  I stop and turn around when I reach the Freedom Tower. Running past James's building for a second time, I feel a little thrill. No, I am not pathetic at all. 

The H&H bakery is right across from the Intrepid Museum, and I stop for fresh, hot bagels. As soon as I open the door to our apartment, Sam zeros in on the bagels. “Did you get cream cheese?”

“Of course, and your favorite – sesame seed.”

My phone pings that I have a text message, so I let Sam dig through the bagel bag.

Lainey, do you have a date for tonight!?

I had almost forgotten about Nick’s party. 

Does Sam count?

I knew it! No worries. I have some lovely candidates for you.

I wonder if I should worry, but then dismiss my concerns. It is just a party. I can always leave if I am not having a good time.

Sounds good. See you tonight. XX Lainey

Dress sexy XX Nick

Sam , of course, is completely on board with Nick’s plan and insists on picking out my outfit. We spend a couple of hours cleaning, doing laundry, and studying before Sam declares that it is time to sexify ourselves. She blows my hair out so that it looks straight and sleek. I don’t like heavy make-up, so I settle on bronzer, mascara, and lip gloss. Sam picks white skinny jeans and a silver metallic tank top for me to wear. She also insists that I wear the snake skin Mahnolo Blahnik slingbacks that her sister gave her for her birthday this year. I feel a little guilty about the poor snake that gave up his life so that I could wear these shoes, but they are quite literally the most gorgeous shoes I have ever worn. 

Sam’s sister Suzanne is awesome. She is a fashion designer and often gives us designer labels her company is planning on knocking off. For me there is the added bonus that I don’t have to shop for clothes. They just appear in our closets from time to time. 

We had meant to arrive on the earlier side, but the party is well underway when we get there. Almost everyone in the living room is dancing to the techno music blasting from Nick’s sound system. I head up to his rooftop. There I see Nick flitting around from group to group like the social butterfly that he is. When he sees me and Sam, he comes over to us and gives us effusive hugs.

“Darlings… I thought you would never get here. I’m dying for you to meet a couple of my new friends.”

He pulls us over to a group near the ledge. I have to admit that the group we are heading towards has been blessed in the looks department. 

“I would like you to meet Davis. He just finished working with Brad as the photographer at his last photo shoot.” Davis is tall, but probably not over six feet, and has dirty blond hair and brown eyes. His skin is dark, suggesting he is in the sun a lot, and it looks like he spends a generous amount of time working out. 

“Nice to meet you, Davis.” I give Davis a friendly smile and ask, “Was it a good shoot?”

“Yea, really good. The models were all very professional. Most of them are here tonight. You could say this is kind of a wrap party for us. The shoot was longer than usual, and we all had a great time hanging out.” I notice that Davis has a bit of an accent, which is pretty sexy, and I speculate that it is Australian.