I smiled to hide my laughter. “That same person probably splurged on all the silly decorations as well.”
“Exactly,” he agreed. “These people work in or on boats. Their entire lives are devoted to boats. Why in the hell would they want to be surrounded by the same shit they see day in and day out?”
I pursed my lips and nodded. “You have a very good point. There should have been something more exciting.” I was going to take his criticism as constructive. He didn’t mean it that way, but that was the way I would apply it to my next venture. I should have done something a little less work-like and more fun. I could have done a tropical theme or something that took the people away from their everyday lives.
He seemed pleased with my assessment. “Exactly,” he said again. “This would have been much better in a bar or a club or even a fucking bowling alley. Don’t you think?”
I softly shrugged the shoulder not pressed against the wall. “Maybe, but I think ladies and even some of the guys enjoy the chance to dress up once in a while. Does a party in a bowling alley really say thank you for making me a very rich man?”
That seemed to hit home. “I suppose not. I bet they would have been just as happy with a bonus check. He could have saved the money and split it between the employees.”
“True, but I bet most of these people would have used the bonus to pay off a bill or something responsible. This is all about them. This is about them getting to mingle and have a nice time away from the kids for the night.”
He looked thoughtful but unconvinced as he sipped on his drink. “What do you do for the company?” he asked.
I took a drink from my glass of plain soda and smiled prettily. “I’m the overpaid party planner.”
He turned a bright shade of red. I thought he would choke on the drink he had just taken. “Shit,” he breathed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—fuck. I’m so sorry.”
I shrugged. “Don’t be. I am an overpaid planner. These things can be fun.”
He scoffed. “Not in my experience.”
“That’s because you are hiding out in a corner,” I told him.
“I don’t know any of these people,” he said.
I scanned the crowd. “Don’t you work with them?”
“No,” he said, offering no explanation.
“Are you a party crasher?”
He gave me a dry look. “Do I act like a party crasher? Wouldn’t I be enjoying myself a little more?”
I looked at his drink. “You’re enjoying the free liquor.”
“I’m here under duress,” he claimed.
I laughed. “I don’t see the chains.”
“I came because I was invited and my friend insisted I show up.”
“You were invited but you don’t work for the company?”
He looked uncomfortable. “No.”
I waited for him to explain. He didn’t. “Are you related to Al?”
“No.”
I burst into laughter. “I think I understand a little more about why you are here in the corner. I feel like I’m giving you a root canal.”
He shrugged. “I told you I’m not a big people person.”
I studied him. I felt like I was pretty good at reading people. I had to be in my line of work. I had to be prepared to jump in and rescue a bride that was on the verge of hysteria or a bitch fit. When I read him, I saw a guy that was uncomfortable but could be fun given the right circumstances. “You haven’t found the right people.”
“Pardon me?”
“You said you aren’t a people person. I’m saying you haven’t met the right people. I bet you could enjoy things like these if you had someone to hang out with.”
He looked amused. “Is this your professional opinion?”
“It is. Like me. I’m fun. You are talking to me.”
I saw a flash of amusement in his eyes. “I’m not sure if that’s what I would call this.”
“This?” I asked.
“This,” he said, gesturing between us. “I think you are doing the talking. I’m just here to agree.”
“I want to touch you,” I said, earning a shocked look from him.
“Uh, that’s different.”
I heard myself giggling again. I couldn’t even explain why I was laughing. It really wasn’t that funny. He was just so damn dry, it made me laugh. “I don’t want to touch you, touch you. I want to know if you are truly as prickly as you come off.”
He smirked. “Yes.”
“Yes?”
“I’m prickly. I’m a dick. I’m arrogant, aloof, introverted, and all the other words. That’s me.”
“Liar. I don’t think you are. I think you think you are. I bet you know how to have fun.”
“Maybe.” He scanned the crowd before finishing his drink and standing up straight. “I’m going to find my friend and go. I’ve had as much fun and excitement as I can handle.”
“You keep saying you came here with a friend, but I have yet to see this person. Is this a girlfriend?”
“No.”
“Why are you in such a hurry to leave?” I questioned.
He shrugged. “Because I find my own company to be far more entertaining.”
“Ah, but we have free booze.”
“Which is why my friend is here. He likes the free shit. Personally, I have much better booze at home. And I don’t have to wear a suit. I can sit around on my very comfortable couch and drink good scotch.”
I was intrigued. I didn’t know why. The man had done nothing to interest me. He had not given me even the slightest idea he might like me. In fact, he was making it very clear he would rather be anywhere else than in that room talking to me. Yet, here I was, wanting to spend more time with him. It made zero sense.
“I have an idea,” I said, pulling away from the wall and looking into his eyes.
He stared back at me. I wanted to believe I saw a hint of desire, but I couldn’t be sure. “What would that be?” he asked in a husky voice.
Yep. I had detected desire. I would use that to get what I wanted. “I have an idea about how we can get you out of that shell you are in.”
“I’m not in a shell,” he replied.
“Okay, shell isn’t the right word. Let’s soften your pricklies.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“You are a prickly beast. You use those proverbial quills to keep people away. I know how we can soften those sharp ends.”
“Why would I want to do that?”
“Because.”
“Because?” he pressed.
I didn’t have an answer. “Because it will be fun.”
Instead of telling me to take a flying leap into the ocean, he slowly nodded. “All right, what’s this grand idea?”
“Let’s go to Balboa Park. I’ll meet you there at ten tomorrow.”
He really looked confused then. I decided that was my cue to leave. I needed to leave him hanging. If I gave him the chance to argue, he would talk himself out of it. I wasn’t going to give him the option. I walked away without a backward glance. Curiosity was killing me, and I had to know what he was doing. I waited until I was tucked safely behind a curtain to take a peek.