And he’d backed a step away. “But without evidence of a challenge? I’m not about to waste my time.”
The elevator had returned by then and he’d stepped inside. The doors had closed on his mocking expression. He’d taken the easy way out, leaving her breathless and scrambling for a suitable retort.
Well, Macy wasn’t having any of that tonight. Tonight she was forewarned, and no smooth-talking lawyer would get the best of her. Not again, no sir-ree.
Leo wanted a challenge? She’d give him a challenge.
Because when it came to playing games, she was more than very good.
She was the absolute best.
2
ABANDONING THE SANCTUARY of the kitchen, Macy returned to the loft’s main room. She snatched a shred of lettuce from the floor and tossed it on a stack of plates destined for the trash. “Okay. Let’s get started.”
A collective groan went up and threatened to drown out the techno-pop music vibrating the wall-mounted speakers. Walking by the entertainment center, Macy turned down the volume. She hated having to shout over the music, on top of shouting over nine voices engaged in both conversation and complaint.
With the boom-boom faded to a muted thump-thump, the groans became intelligible protests. None she hadn’t heard before.
“It’s too late. Let’s wait till next weekend.”
“Hey, I’m not finished eating.”
“Anyone want to head down to Karma? I think Azrael’s spinning tonight.”
Macy took the objections in stride and overrode each one. First to Jess. “We can’t wait until next weekend. I’m on deadline.” Next to Anton. “You can eat while you play. The two are not mutually exclusive.”
Finally to Ray. “Karma will still be there when we’re finished here for the night, and Azrael never spins before midnight.” Eric she silenced with only a look. No doubt he was still recovering from Chloe.
And then there was the fifth man, the quiet one, the interloper, whom Macy dodged.
She wasn’t sure why Anton had brought Leo along. Or now that he was here, why he stayed. Participation was mandatory for all who set foot inside the loft on game night.
And no matter how hard she tried, or how many times, she could not picture Leo Redding playing her game, her way. Not with all that starch in his collar. Not even on a dare.
He sat sprawled in the huge armchair upholstered in yellow-and-red plaid. But his posture was deceptive, his thoughts clearly focused elsewhere. More than likely on one of his challenging equal-opportunity cases.
Macy enjoyed a private smirk. He had no idea what sort of challenge was about to land in his lap. He’d be leaving here tonight with a new respect for fun and games. If he could actually enjoy himself with a noose around his neck.
It was Saturday night. It was party time. He wore a white dress shirt and, admittedly, a fairly fashionable tie. But it was still a tie. And it was still knotted.
His slacks were dark gray dress wool and neatly pressed, his shoes black tasseled wing tips. Tonight he wore his glasses, the rims serving to emphasize his incredible light-green eyes.
So much for her smirk, she thought, pulling, instead, a grimace. This was not a good start to the evening, noticing his every male detail when she shouldn’t be noticing him as anything but a piece of data by which to measure the success of her game.
“Uh, Macy?” Lauren edged up to Macy’s side, pulling her away from the gathered group, who’d long since quit paying attention. “This bunch is off in the ozone. If you launch your game idea now, you’ll be talking to the wind.”
“So I noticed.” Whatever was in the air tonight could’ve picked a better time to blow. It wasn’t like she was on deadline or anything.
Lauren twisted the cap from her bottle of water, twisted her mouth as she thought. “You’ve got to get their attention. I was thinking maybe…Spin the Webb?”
Macy’s version of Spin the Bottle had never failed to perk up audience interest in the past. Of course, there was the small matter of who to ensnare….
“You know, Lauren, I like the way you think.” Macy pushed her best friend back to the center of the group, all of whom looked more interested in sleeping off the evening’s food and drink than anything she had to say.
Lauren clapped her hands. “Okay, gang. Before Macy tests her newest gIRL gAMES creation on all of us, it’s time for the evening’s first act. Her famous version of Spin the Bottle. Better known as Spin the Webb!”
While Macy attempted a pirouette on the toe of one clunky leather clog, Lauren frowned and patted pockets she didn’t have. “Uh, Mace. I don’t have anything to use for a blindfold.”
Macy twirled to a stop and did a visual search of the room. She gave serious consideration to volunteering Leo Redding’s tie, but decided she might need it later for bondage, uh, leverage.
“No problem. I’ll cover my eyes with my hands.”
That, of course, started another round of mouthy macho maneuvering.
“How fair is that?”
“Yeah. How do we know you won’t peek?”
“Foul! Foul!”
After peering through spread fingers to stare down both Ray and Jess, Macy turned to the last bellyacher, who was sprawled across two of the sofa’s three cushions. “Watch it, Eric. Or Lauren might accidentally spin me into your lap, right on top of your shrimp.”
Eric frowned. “Hey, hey. Watch out who you’re calling a shrimp.”
“I’m talking about the fajitas, you goober.”
“Hey, hey. Watch out who you’re calling a peanut.”
“Pillow, please,” Macy called to Sydney Ford, who’d settled into the heap of mismatched bolsters and cushions cozily stacked against the corner of the entertainment center.
Sydney chose a goldfish-shaped throw pillow, started to pass it over the back of the sofa to Macy, but changed her mind. Instead, she got to her feet and tossed not one, not two, but pillow after cushion after sham in Eric’s direction.
Chloe and Melanie cheered her on, then jumped up and pitched in until all that was left visible of Eric were his feet, his knees and one hand. That hand he used to reach out and grab the rear pocket on Sydney’s long narrow denim skirt. He pulled her over the back of the sofa and down.
With a yelp, she tumbled into his lap. Anton chose that moment to start up the music, a sexy, heavy-breathing number that sent Sydney into a scramble away from Eric, who’d started to bump and grind beneath the heap.
Turning to Macy, Lauren asked, “Who invited him, anyway?” And Macy could only roll her eyes.
“Attention, people.” Lauren clapped her hands again. “The time has arrived for one of you to test your powers of self-preservation while our resident spider weaves her web. For those of you unfamiliar with the rules—Leo—don’t despair. All you have to do is resist her demands.”
“Easy enough,” said the bane of Macy’s evening.
She didn’t even bother acknowledging his insult. She was not about to give him an edge when she had a game to win.
“For any of you thinking of cutting out early, we have a special incentive for you to keep your butts parked exactly where they are.” Lauren’s announcement served its purpose. The gang perked up. “But I’ll let Sydney do the honors.”
Sydney, being the perfectionist she was, checked for misbehaving strands of hair and smoothed both her narrow