Page 23 of Hard Deal
“So, signal practice.” Caleb took their drinks from the bartender and they found a secluded spot in the corner of the room to people watch. “What do you think is going on there?”
He nodded to a couple at a stand-up table. It looked like they were on a date, and the guy was talking animatedly while the girl smiled on. “It’s going well?”
“Are you asking or telling?”
Imogen wrinkled her nose. “Telling. She’s smiling and they’re talking a lot, which is a good sign.”
Caleb made a buzzer sound. “Wrong. He’s talking. Watch his mouth—he barely takes a breath. She’s bored but trying to be polite. The smile is fake, though. She’s tapping her nail against her leg. I give this date one star, would not reach date two.”
“You don’t know that.” Imogen sipped her drink. She hated to admit it, but Caleb could read people like no one else she’d ever met. Maybe that was why he was so effective in winding her up?
They watched as the woman’s phone started ringing. A second later, she gathered her things and headed out of the club in short, hurried steps. Once her back was to the table, her serious expression melted into relief.
“Oh no, family emergency. What bad timing,” Caleb said with a smug smile as he drew a checkmark in the air. “Score one for me. That was most definitely a get out of jail call.”
“Okay, fine, smarty-pants. What about them?” As subtly as she could, she nodded to a couple seated at a booth a few feet away. They looked blissfully unaware of the world around them.
“She’s pregnant.”
“Huh? But we’re in a club.”
He leaned closer so it wasn’t obvious they were talking about the people around them. The scent of his aftershave, which was faded and warm, coiled inside Imogen’s belly. It stirred her butterflies and kicked her pulse up a few notches.
“She’s not drinking. That glass of wine hasn’t been touched, and she keeps reaching for her water. Plus, that dress she’s wearing is very loose.”
“So? Lots of women like loose dresses.”
Then the woman cradled her stomach under the table. She didn’t have much of a bump at all, but that protective, maternal gesture could not be mistaken.
“Maybe he doesn’t know it yet...or maybe the baby isn’t his,” Caleb mused.
A second later the man excused himself from the table, and the woman stealthily tipped some of her drink into his. Then she pressed the glass against her lip so some of her lipstick transferred.
Caleb made a motion of drawing another mark in the air. “Convinced yet?”
“Let’s try one more. Two could be a fluke.” She scanned the room.
Usually Imogen’s black dress was perfect on a date—it was one of those clothing items that fit well, was comfortable and still looked pretty and put-together. But gazing out over the fashionable Melbourne crowd made her LBD look a little...frumpy. The women here were diamonds and she was a cubic zirconia in need of a clean.
Swallowing her insecurities, Imogen found a couple for Caleb to assess. “Those three. The guy in the blue shirt with the two women.”
A brunette in a floaty green dress stood to one side of the man, and a redhead in a silver mini skirt was on the other. The dynamic was unusual—the man appeared to be in his element and the other two women seemed a little...off.
“Good one.” He slung his arm around her shoulder, and pulled her farther along the bar. “Let’s get a closer look.”
“This is what you do on a Saturday night, huh? Stalk unsuspecting people while you pick apart their personal lives?”
“A guy’s got to have fun.”
The man chuckled and sipped his drink. There was definitely tension there. Even Imogen could see that.
“He’s dating the brunette, but he wants to fuck the redhead,” Caleb said.
“You don’t think they’re having an affair already?”
The brunette sidled up to the man and slung her arm around his waist, but her fingers were digging in. Possessive. A stamp of ownership. The redhead continued to bat her lashes, however.
“No, I don’t think so. If they’d gotten to that stage already he would be more subtle.” He turned to Imogen. “Maybe he’s trying to convince them to have a threesome.”