Modern Girl's Guide To Vacation Flings (35 page)

"If I were marketing the drug, she's exactly the person I'd send in. She's confident enough," he said, trying to goad her into a conversation.

The mystery woman turned to look at the redhead in question, tilting her head a bit. There was a sharp focus in those eyes now. Simon took the opportunity to get a good look at her. She wasn't wearing a convention badge, but that didn't mean much. She could have taken it off, but still he didn't think so. She wasn't dressed like the rest of the crowd, wearing jeans and a sweater, as opposed to suits and party dresses. The clothes fit her well and they looked expensive. Her rusty auburn hair was pulled back in a ponytail that fell in ringlets down her back. Even casually dressed she looked put together and polished. She could easily be a society wife on vacation in the windy city. He looked for a ring, but she had her hand tucked in her pocket.

Who ever she was, she'd definitely caught his interest.She was quite striking in an unconventional way, with her wide eyes and a dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks that most women would try to cover. Simon couldn't believe he had overlooked her.

The woman turned back and smiled at him as if she knew a secret. The smile transformed her face. "I stand by my original impression. Not Viagra. She's far too sharp. Too aggressive and forward. My bet is on a cancer drug. Something that might well kill you as cure you. Now the blond next to her. She'd be who I'd pick to sell Viagra. She's soft and curvy with those big bedroom eyes. She's got that naughty librarian look down, don't you think?"

Simon turned back and looked at the group of women again. Now that she had pointed it out, he saw the sharp edges and hard lines in the redhead's clothing and mannerism. She did look aggressive. And the blond had large round eyes and pouty lips that screamed sex appeal. He looked down at the woman sitting next to him, amazed that she saw all that in just a few second.

He scanned the crowd again. A man near the door caught his eye. He was lean and reserved, and reminded Simon of a funeral director. "What about the guy in the purple shirt?" Simon asked, making a game out of it.

"Blood pressure medication, for sure. Look how calm and relaxed he is. And the guy next to him," she said with a laugh in her voice, really getting into it now. "Look at the way he dominates the conversation. He's loud and boisterous. I'd bet he peddles some kind of social anxiety meds. He screams life of the party."

"And you? What what kind of drug are you selling?" Simon asked.

She blushed again and tucked a fallen lock behind her ear. "I'm not with the convention."

"On vacation?" he asked.

"No, not really. I'm in the process of moving. I spent the week here while I got settled."

She looked away and Simon got the impression that wasn't the whole story, but he wasn't about to press it. He was enjoying their conversation, and if she didn't want to talk about her move, he was fine with that.

"Can I buy you a drink?" he asked, looking down at her empty glass.

She bit her lip, and didn't look up. Simon was afraid she was going to send him away and he tried to put her at ease. "A soda maybe. I'm not trying to get you drunk or anything."

She laughed, nervously and nodded. "Sure. Another drink will be great. Bushmills. On the rocks."

"I'm Simon by the way," he said, and held out his hand for her.

She took his hand, and smiled. "Juliette."

"It's nice to meet you Juliette. That's a pretty name."

"I hate it. My mom was a literature professor. I guess it could have been worse. I could have ended up with a name like Ophelia or Hester."

"I like it," he said, and smile.

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