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My answer clearly shocks her, but we’re interrupted by the waiter reappearing to take our order.
“Oh, I, uh, didn’t look at the menu yet.”
“Do you want me to order for us?”
She looks at me, then to the waiter who smiles broadly at her.
“Mr. Gates has excellent taste and has been coming here since we opened.”
“Okay,” she says, then I give our order to the waiter before turning my attention back to her.
“So why do you need a publicist, Mr. Gates?”
“Seriously?” I laugh. “You know why.”
She shrugs. She’s playing that innocent game again. I lean back in my chair, crossing my ankle over my knee as I narrow my gaze at her. I contemplate keeping it surface level, telling her that some not-so-upstanding decisions in my past are impeding a very important business deal I’m trying to close, but I go for the truth instead. If she’s going to be my publicist, she needs to know who I really am. Plus, there’s an underlying hope that I’ll scare her enough that she won’t want to push the limits of these flirty little exchanges between us because I know my resolve is hanging by a thread already.
“While a lot of the rumors about me are untrue, I have certainly done my fair share of what people would consider shady business practices. Not toward the innocent,” I say emphatically, “but I don’t play fair when it comes to selfish, spineless assholes who would fuck their own mother over to get ahead in life.”
“Why even deal with those kinds of people in the first place?”
I want to laugh at her naiveté, but the reality is, a lot of people think that way.
“If I didn’t do business with people like that, there’d hardly be anyone to do business with—if any at all. That’s the unfortunate truth. So while I might be unethical, the reason I get branded as the worst of these lowlifes is because I don’t pretend to be someone I’m not. I don’t pretend like I’m altruistic and innocent like they do.”
She nods. “So you’re like Dexter.”
“Pardon?”
“He was a serial killer on a TV show but he only killed bad guys.”
I smirk. “I guess you could think of it like that, but I can promise, there are no bodies in my basement.”
“So, you don’t want to pretend to be innocent; what do you want your publicist to do for you then?”
This is why I knew she’d be perfect for this job. She listens and she’s quick.
“To help showcase the good that I actually do but not in some way that is saying hey, look over here so that you don’t see the bad shit I’m doing over there. Also, to show that I’m not my past. People can grow and evolve and change.”
“Meaning?”
I chuckle, thinking how to choose my words wisely for the next part. “Meaning I had a penchant for women, fast cars, and a good time.”
“And now?” Her face is stoic, her back stiff.
“And now I don’t, simple as that.”
“I’ve done some research. I am aware of the most recent Nikki Frisk scandal.”
“Yeah.” I drag my hand over my jaw slowly. “I was a fool. I won’t lie. I should have seen that one coming, but I truly didn’t.”
“Blinded by love?”
I almost spit my water out of my mouth. “God, no!” I shake my head. “Lust, darling, pure lust.” I toss her a wink. “A man’s gotta eat.”
I see her flinch and I’m not sure if it’s at the word lust or darling or the fact I basically just said I needed to get laid. I didn’t mean to say the latter; it just slipped out, surprising even me.
Seconds later our waiter appears with the food, saving me from having to continue with that conversation… or so I thought.
