What’s a Girl to Do?:. Aimee Duffy

What’s a Girl to Do?: - Aimee  Duffy


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think any of us will find what we’re looking for in a bar,’ Shey said.

      ‘Speak for yourself.’ Eloisa downed another shot. With watery eyes, she glanced at Shey. ‘You’re the only one uptight about dating.’

      Her mouth dropped open. ‘I’m not uptight, just careful.’

      Georgia rolled her eyes. ‘Come on, you’ve never even had a fling.’

      ‘That’s hardly a national disaster.’

      Eloisa chimed in. ‘It could be. Maybe the world needs Shey Lopez to do one wild thing.’

      Shey shook her head. ‘I’ve done wild things.’

      ‘Yeah right.’ Georgia picked up her glass. ‘Splurging on a pair of shoes you can’t afford is the craziest thing you’ve done.’

      Being teased by her friends never usually bothered her, and it didn’t this time either. If she took the bait it was sure to get worse. But she’d come out tonight for more in the way of fun, and damn if she wasn’t going home until her feet throbbed and she’d had a good work out on the dance floor.

      ‘Let’s dance girls,’ she said.

      They finished the last of the tequila and headed down to the main level. Club Zero was no back-street club or for the lower class. The cover price to get in was her weekly indulgence, and the drinks all had a few extra dollars added to the price. But the best bit? No trash. It was the high end of sophistication in Manhattan and they could dance without worrying about getting spills all over their new stilettos.

      Finding an open area near the bar, they tucked their clutch bags under their arms and got busy. By the third song, Shey was feeling more relaxed, her body loosening and the stress of the day disappearing. It was weird that she found the atmosphere in the club calming, considering all the strobe lights and neon, but burning up a good sweat swinging her hips was her favorite form of exercise. Probably had something to do with the tequila too.

      Eloisa came close and pressed her body against Shey’s. A typical move for her if there was a guy who caught her interest, so Shey went with it and grabbed her hips. Georgia was a few feet away, dancing with her eyes closed in that self-possessed way of hers, giving herself up to the beat of the music.

      After a moment Shey realized Eloisa wasn’t giving anyone the eye. Instead she leaned close and shouted in Shey’s ear, ‘don’t look now, but there’s a gorgeous suit at the bar checking you out.’

      Nodding to let Eloisa know she got the message, Shey changed the position of their bodies until their satin-clad rears ground together as they danced. Shey missed a grind and almost fell backward when she saw who was staring, but she got back with the program quickly. Holy hell, Mr. Cool was here—in a different suit—and he was staring at her from beneath hooded lids.

      With one arm propped on the bar and a tumbler containing dark liquid in his other hand, he looked sexier than sin. Then his earlier words came back and even though the heat still sizzled between them, Shey forced herself to turn away. The guy had an ego to rival Hugh Hefner’s and could probably get a woman into his bed tonight with a click of his fingers. His bored tone, the disinterest in his expression, and his cocky remark about not needing a line meant he was not for her.

      She liked a guy to make a little more effort than that before she decided whether or not she wanted to fall into bed with him.

      Studiously ignoring him, she continued to shake what her mama gave her—though her mom would be horrified to see the size of Shey’s hips. Felicity Lopez was on the curvy side for a supermodel but weighed a good twenty pounds less than Shey. No way was Shey going to live on rabbit feed for the rest of her life. Food, like life, was there to enjoy.

      Eloisa called a time-out and headed back to the table with Georgia since it was Shey’s round, and probably because they thought Shey was interested in Mr. Cool. She tried to act casual and crossed to the opposite end of the mahogany bar to avoid him. After placing the order for an army of shots, the bartender got to work.

      ‘If I said these were on me, would you think that’s another line?’ Mr. Cool was standing right next to her and she had to take a deep breath to orientate herself.

      That was the wrong thing to do. He’d switched the spicy aftershave for something musky and that had an even stronger effect on her hormones. Eau de Pheromone, maybe? She hoped it was expensive so all the creeps in the city didn’t catch on.

      Shey turned to him and squared her shoulders. ‘I’d say I’m perfectly capable of buying my own drinks.’ She fought the urge to thank him for the offer, especially when she saw the wry smile.

      ‘How about we start again? I’m Calvin.’ He extended his hand.

      Placing her hand in his, she shivered at the electric contact. It woke up her insides like she’d swallowed a couple of hormone pills. His head bowed over her hand, but he never took his attention off her face. Her breath caught as his lips brushed her knuckles and she had to jerk her hand back.

      The flash fire that burned over her skin was epic and worse, Shey wanted him to kiss her again. Crazy. Even though he seemed to be trying politeness on for size, he had this confidence that said he knew she’d end up naked on his bed, and though her body went wild with the idea, no thanks. Shey was the result of her mom’s stupidity. Felicity had fallen for a charmer, and all it had done was stall her mother’s career.

      Quickest way to cut off his interest would be to lie through her teeth. ‘Sorry, I have—’

      ‘Shey, fibs are unattractive. I know you’re single.’ He stepped closer, too close, and her heart kicked off on a mamba.

      ‘How do you know my name?’

      And why did the sound of it rolling off his tongue get her even hotter?

      Calvin smiled, showing every one of those flawless white teeth, and she was dazzled. Christ. She needed to pull it together, fast.

      ‘Your friend Mandy and I spoke.’

      Shey frowned. She was going to kill Mandy.

      ‘A woman like you shouldn’t be single. Unless you’re the kind of woman who likes variety.’

      ‘Another line?’ She tried to hold the scowl, and failed. The way he said variety had her thinking about all the different things he’d do to her body. She had a feeling he’d take her higher than any man ever had, and that was based on her own reaction to him, not to mention that arrogant confidence which pissed her off and got her hot all at the same time.

      ‘I told you earlier Shey, I don’t need them.’

      Saved by the shots. The bartender placed down a tray and, even though she’d ordered three for each of them, it didn’t seem like enough. Hell, jumping into an ice bath didn’t seem like enough to calm her down. She paid the guy and told him to keep the change. Before she managed to scamper away with the tray, Calvin spoke.

      ‘I’ll see you soon, Shey.’

      She frowned at him, thinking that wasn’t going to happen. ‘You know, there’s a club full of women here tonight who I’m sure would be more than happy to give you what you want.’

      ‘What is it you think I want?’

      Those eyes, all dark and intense, scrambled her thoughts. ‘An easy lay.’ The second the words left her lips, her face heated.

      Calvin raised a dark brow. ‘Where’s the fun in that?’

      She sent a message to her feet to get them to move, but they ignored her. She was trapped again, her body wanting what she wouldn’t let it have and now she could see it in his expression. He was thriving on the challenge she’d presented him, instead of giving her a half-assed come-on like earlier.

      But it didn’t matter. When they met he’d hit on her in under three seconds, without even knowing her name, and those kind of guys didn’t do fancy dates. They wanted women in their beds


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