Playing Hard to Master Read Free Page A

looking down at her shoes. He knew enough about fashion to guess the heels were probably uncomfortable. Where were his manners? He wasn’t doing a good job impressing her. “Do you want to sit down? I’m at a table with Konstantin and his women.”
    “Sitting sounds good.” She smiled.
    They went back to the table, where Ambrose introduced the three of them. After a few pleasantries, Kon and his girls wandered off to play. As they left, Konstantin passed behind Everly and gave Ambrose the thumbs-up.
    Idiot. Some wingman. He was making things a little obvious, leaving them alone so soon.
    “So how was the rest of your day?”
    “Oh, you know. The usual. Cut a million people’s hair, got a few tips. Then I went home and took a bath, and now I’m here.”
    “No dinner?”
    She snorted. “You look so horrified.”
    He thought of the herb-butter-rubbed prime rib he’d had earlier. “You don’t understand how much I love food.”
    “Do I look like I miss a lot of meals?” Everly laughed. “Don’t respond to that. It’s a trap.”
    Honestly, she looked edible. It would probably be creepy to tell her that though.
    “So you’re a foodie?” she asked.
    “That’s putting it mildly.”
    “Yeah, I’m not in a position to eat out a lot, but once in a while it’s nice.” She grimaced. “You know, if the people who can afford to eat fancy soufflés and lobster tails every night gave even a little bit of that money to antipoverty organizations, we could probably give every homeless person somewhere to live. I mean, don’t they care that there are people starving while they gorge themselves on caviar and fancy wine?”
    Whoa
. He agreed in a noncommittal way. If they ever hooked up, her hating rich people could be a problem.
    Her words had given him a twinge of guilt. It wasn’t his fault he had money—well, actually, it was his fault. But he wasn’t ashamed of having done well. Making it big in the shipping industry was a mix of luck and hard work. He treated his people fairly and paid them a lot better than any of his competitors. They had benefits and he gave a shit about them—he even knew most of them by name, and he sucked at names.
    “Do you know that some big corporation is trying to shut down the free medical clinic on Bloor Street? They don’t want them as neighbors because apparently it’s bad for business.” She shook her head in disgust. “They can take their canapés and shove them up their asses.”
    That sounded . . . unpleasant, and definitely not his kink. “You’re involved with the clinic?”
    “Not that one in particular, but a few of the others. I just try to get involved when I hear stories like that.” Her eyes gleamed, and for a moment he saw Everly’s serious side. “I help circulate petitions and that sort of thing. It’s hard to get to protests because I usually work evenings.”
    He nodded. “Yeah, I work whenever I’m needed, so my schedule is all over the place. I’ve never been to a protest before though.”
    “You should go to one sometime. Life is too short to sit on the sidelines and wait for other people to fix things.”
    Okay, maybe this girl was too good for him. He didn’t usually think much past his employees and his family and close friends.
    She smiled. “Sorry, I get intense sometimes. If I’m boring you, feel free to say so, or think about football or something. So what do you do?”
    “I work in shipping.” For once he was glad his line of business was a conversation ender.
    “So you . . . ship things?”
    “Yup.”
    “You drive long distances?”
    “Sometimes. I mostly do the paperwork end of things now.” He tried not to laugh as her eyes glazed over. “I drive once in a while, if there’s no one else available.”
    Her mouth opened then closed again, and it looked like she was struggling to think of something polite to say about his boring job.
    “So how long have you been into the lifestyle?” Ambrose asked, feeling awkward.