Street Smart by Smartypants Romance

Author:Smartypants Romance [Stiles, Aly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Smartypants Romance

15—Nate Hanover

Marcos

I could strangle Nash when he tells me he’s running sound for yet another gig and has to split. Of course Nate, the one I needed gone, informs me his girlfriend Myra cancelled their plans because of a fever. He’d love to meet Eva, however. The way he says Eva does nothing to improve my opinion of these developments.

I love Nate, don’t get me wrong. He’s a friend, mentor, and (at times) an inspirational force in my life. At other times he says things like “I’d love to meet Eva” in a way that makes my blood run cold. Usually that tone ends with me agreeing to prank Billy Stanton or audition for a male revue. Yes, always said with the same titillating tone and slight arch of his brows that he uses now. Also, I always say okay and always regret it the second I do.

“She’s my boss,” I remind him.

“But she’s hot.”

“So?”

“So… do you want to see her naked?” he asks, dumping creamer in his mug as if coffee flavors creamer, not the other way around.

“Yes, but that’s—”

“Does she want to see you naked?”

“Yes, but it’s—”

“Exactly. Dude, she’s coming to your house. Your domicile.” He flicks a finger into my chest as he passes on his way to a stool at the small island.

“To work.”

It sounds even more ridiculous out loud.

Nate rolls his eyes. “Uh huh. On a Saturday?”

“We have a rummy date with her stepmother tonight. I have to teach her how to play.”

“What the hell is a rummy date?”

“An event where people congregate with other people and play rummy.”

He doesn’t look impressed. “Please tell me her stepmother is smoking hot and this involves some kind of competitive stripping?”

Competitive stripping? There’s an underdeveloped concept for later consideration.

I shrug and take a sip from my cup. “She’s about ninety, so probably some logistical challenges for stripping, but there might be cold mint tea.”

He narrows his eyes.

“Cucumber sandwiches?” I suggest.

He shakes his head.

“Hypoallergenic lap dogs.”

He sighs. “Marcos, Marcos, Marcos.” It’s never good when he says my name more than once in sequence.

“I’m involved in something. Something big,” I say, holding up my hand to stop the lecture.

He freezes, his expression hardening the longer he studies me. Yeah, should have gone with the lecture.

“Hang on…” He presses a fist to his mouth, his gaze boring into me. “Hang on just a second.”

I clear my throat and pretend to see something really interesting in my coffee cup.

“Oh fu— You didn’t back off the satellite shit,” he says finally. “You didn’t ask for the nuts.”

I sigh and shake my head. “No. And it’s good I didn’t. It turns out that’s the whole reason I was hired.”

“They hired you to catch them spying?” It doesn’t take an Ivy League degree to read his skepticism.

“They didn’t hire me. Eva did.” And I realize too late that I used the titillating pronunciation of her name. Great…

Of course Nate notices when his critique-face spreads into an entertained-face. Sometimes it would be awesome if my roommates were clueless.

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