“Somehow I can’t imagine you flirting with men in a bar.” She doesn’t flirt. Not anymore at least. Seeing as how she believes all men are evil incarnate.
She sticks her bottom lip out and pouts. “I can act.”
I don’t bother to contradict her. This conversation is a waste of my time. She knows damn well and good I won’t be using her in any honey pot scheme. She’d start lecturing the man about being faithful and ruin the operation before it could get started.
There’s a knock on the door. Great, the natives are getting restless. I open the door, intent on telling everyone to go home, but the woman on the opposite side of the door stops me in my tracks. This woman is no woman of the night.
“Can I help you?”
“Um.” She bites her lip. “Are you starting the interviews soon? I don’t mean to rush you, but I need to feed the meter if this is going to take more time.” She looks down the hallway.
I usher her in. “Come on. Let’s do your interview first.”
I hear grumbling in the hallway. I stick my head out and glare at the women bitching and complaining – the glare I learned from my overprotective Uncle Lenny. They immediately shut up. Works every time.
I show the woman into my office. “I’m Hailey McGraw.” I stick my hand out. “Nice to meet you.”
“Phoebe Ab— er Adams. Sorry, I’m nervous.”
Suzie joins us. She shoves the box of donuts at Phoebe. “Donut?”
Phoebe’s upper lip curls in disgust for a flash before the look is gone. “No, thank you.”
Suzie hands me a cinnamon twist before taking a seat next to Phoebe. “Are you a lady of the night?”
Phoebe blinks a few times before clearing her throat. “Pardon?”
“Just checking.”
“Ignore her,” I say. “We usually don’t let her out of her cage during the day.”
I take a moment to study the woman. There’s no denying she’s gorgeous. Green eyes with a slight outward slant in a heart-shaped face. Plush lips that will have men eating out of the palm of her hand. Blonde hair cascading down her back with not one hair out of place.
She’s wearing a wrap-around dress that hugs her hourglass figure. On her feet are a pair of sky-high heels and when her leg bounces, I can see the tell-tale red soles indicating she’s wearing Louboutins. What in the hell is she doing here if she can afford five-hundred-dollar shoes?
“Do you know what we’re interviewing for?” I ask because she does not look like a woman who needs a job.
“Um, yes. I think I do. I believe a honey trap is when a man or woman, woman in this case, attempts to seduce a married man who the wife, your client, believes is having an affair. Have I got it right?”
I nod. She summed it up pretty well. It’s not rocket science after all.
“I gotta ask. What are you doing here?” Suzie’s finger circles Phoebe and her attire. “Dressed like you are. Wearing Louboutins and is your dress an original Furstenberg?”
Phoebe’s cheeks turn a lovely shade of pink. “Yes?”
“Obviously, you don’t need to work for the money.”
Phoebe clears her throat. “Actually, I’m starting over. I um do need a job.” She pleads with me. “I have no skills, but I’m a fast learner.”
And now I’m intrigued. Phoebe is a woman of mystery and I always did love a mystery. Obviously.
“Flirt with me,” Suzie demands.
I slap her arm. “Stop it.”
“What?” She widens her eyes as if she’s some innocent. Not hardly. “You told me I couldn’t be the sexpot because I don’t flirt, so she needs to be able to flirt.”
“I’m sorry,” I tell Phoebe. “I promise she’s harmless.”