You've Got Fail(9)

“Are you always like this?”

“Like what?” I caught his angry glare and returned it.

“Evasive.”

“Are you always taciturn and grumpy?”

His eyes widened. “I’m not.”

“You’ve been mean-mugging at me since the gallery.”

“Because you stole my name.” His voice rose.

I had no reason to egg him on, but I rather enjoyed it, so I kept it up. “Your name isn’t Scarlet Rocket.”

He balled his hands into fists, then splayed his fingers wide and rubbed them down his pants legs. “You know what I mean.”

“You don’t own that name.”

“Hey, cut the shit.” He turned to face me. “You knew exactly what you were doing when you pretended to be Scarlet Rocket. Why’d you do it, anyway?”

I shrugged. Wasn’t it obvious?

His right hand felt along the bulge in his suit coat. “So your sticky fingers would go unnoticed?”

“Tell him what he’s won, Johnny!” I grinned.

“Don’t steal from people. Get a job.”

“I just did.” I lightly elbowed him in the ribs. “With your agent.”

He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is a nightmare, and now Linda has bought into it.”

“You talking to me or yourself?”

“Well, since you’re me now, I guess both or neither.”

“Now you’re getting it, Sparky.”

“Stop calling me Sparky.” He dropped his hand to his lap.

“What’s wrong with Sparky?”

“It’s not my name.”

“Come on, if we’re going to be doing this whole Milli Vanilli thing together, we may as well be friendly.”

“We aren’t doing a thing together.” His eyes darted to my legs again. Clearing his throat, he said, “There isn’t a ‘we,’ so knock it off.”

“Fine. If that’s how you want to play it…” I sealed my lips and ignored the slight sting of rejection. A sting that shouldn’t even exist. What Willis thought of me wasn’t important. I didn’t know him. And I didn’t need him beyond the short con that had just turned into more with a shake of his agent’s hand.

His phone buzzed, and he pulled it from his pocket. I couldn’t make out the words in the text he read, but with the way he mumbled curses and stabbed the buttons to darken the screen, he didn’t like them.

“Look.” He took a deep breath. “If Linda is right—and she’s never steered me wrong—then you pretending to be Scarlet may be a good idea going forward.”

“Did she just get onto you via text?” I couldn’t stow my smile.

“Never mind that.” He slid his phone into his pocket.

That’s a yes.

“Linda has my best interests at heart. I mean, my interests are her interests since she works on commission.” He bounced his head on the head rest. “Obviously. Anyway, she got me a great book deal except for this one snag.”

“The snag where you pretend to have a vag?”

He nodded. “That’s the one.”

“Did she also notice that you’re a mess whenever you have to, you know, go out in public?”

“No I’m not.”

I gave him an overdone elevator look. “Wrinkled, mismatched, disheveled, and flustered—you look like…” I tapped my red nail on my chin. “A writer, and while that may play great around your smarty-pants friends, it doesn’t work at events. And definitely not the sort of events Scarlet Rocket would attend.”

He frowned down at his clothes. “I think they look all right.”

“They don’t.”

“It doesn’t matter. No one knows who I am. You’re the one who has to look good.”

I scooted closer. “Do I?”

“Do you what?” He held my gaze, surprising me.

“Look good?”

A tingle shot through me when his eyes flickered along my body, down to my heels and back up again.

“Didn’t Linda tell you that Scarlet’s stock in trade was confidence?”

“Yes.”

“Then I think you already know the answer to that question.”

“I do, but I want to hear what you think.”

He leaned closer, the unexpected heat in his eyes destroying the nerdy teddy bear persona I’d painted for him. “Stop toying with me. You already got what you wanted, Scarlet.” Venom dripped from the word, but he seethed with more than just irritation. Lust—the one heady concoction that could bind complete strangers—swirled around us.

“What’s it like? To create a woman and have her come to life?” I couldn’t leave it alone. That’s why I was trouble, always had been. “Is it a rush? Am I everything you wanted?”

He leaned down until his lips were only inches from mine. A curl of heat licked down my body and ended between my thighs.

His eyes bored into mine. “Who are you?”

The cab stopped.

“See you around, Sparky.” I bolted out the door, leaving Willis with the fare, and disappeared into a crowd of people exiting the nearest subway station.