Dirty Dining by EM Lynley Read Free Book Online Page A

the team.” He straightened up and looked at Brice. “I’m not sure what’s not to like about the place. They have another club with women servers, and I’d love to go there. Marilyn wouldn’t like it, though. But you’re single, or so you’ve been saying. Is there someone who might be getting jealous?”
    Brice shook his head. “Quite the opposite.”
    “Hang in there. And thanks. I owe you one.”
    “Yeah, one million dollars.” Brice delivered the line like Dr. Evil in an Austin Powers movie, and Ron laughed his way back down the hall to his own office.
    Brice got up and shut his door. He needed to think about this. Did he really want to see Remy? He admitted he was physically attracted to the young man. Could his politeness and charm be just an act? Some of these pros got their clients hooked on their company, as long as they were spending money, but the affection and attraction wasn’t reciprocal. Remy had said he was new, but it could have been a lie too.
    The best way to handle this would be to assume the attraction to Remy was nothing more than the normal sexual tension and desire the Dinner Club existed to provide. When Brice looked at it that way, he’d been the naïve one. No wonder they’d called him Mr. Green. Greenhorn, newbie, easily influenced. An evening with any of the other boys would be just as enjoyable. In fact, he shouldn’t have Remy again, to guard against the misplaced emotion.
    He hadn’t walked into a real-life version of Pretty Woman. He wasn’t going to ride off with the hooker for a twisted fairy-tale happy ending. That wasn’t the kind of “happy ending” Remy represented.
    Brice picked up the phone and buzzed Watkins. “Can you give me the reservation number at the Dinner Club? I need to bring a client.” Brice kept his request short and businesslike, with no room for Watkins to wrangle an invitation to come along.
    “Sure. Let me find it.” He paused, and Brice expected to hear him tapping at keys, but there was silence. Watkins told him the number—apparently he had it memorized. “Have fun, Brice.” Watkins chuckled lasciviously, and Brice hung up without thanking him.
    He picked up the phone again and took a deep breath before calling.
    “Men’s Dinner Club,” a pleasant-sounding woman announced on the other end. Brice had expected a breathy-sounding man to be taking reservations, getting the clients worked up on the phone before they ever set foot in the place. “How can I serve you?”
    Brice tried not to imagine how the phrase would sound uttered in a husky male voice. “Can I book two seats for tomorrow night?” He half hoped they were booked up.
    “Your color, please?”
    “Green.”
    “Just green? Not forest green or Kelly green?”
    “I don’t know. I’ve only been there once, and I was the only Green that night.” He gave the date. He’d wondered how he’d gotten such a common color.
    “Oh, yes, sir. Green is a first visit basic color. Here you are in the database under a corporate account. From now on you’ll be Hunter Green for reservations. I’ll need to get some additional information and assign your personal membership number.”
    He spent five minutes providing the details, and she verified his authorization to use the business account.
    “Do you have a preferred serving boy?” she asked as if she were inquiring about whether he wanted sugar for his coffee. “You had Remy last time.”
    “No, but…” He certainly had had Remy. He paused, not sure he was making the correct decision. “No preference. But I’d rather not have the same boy.”
    “Weren’t you pleased with his service?”
    He didn’t want to get Remy in trouble. Damn, he shouldn’t have said anything. “Oh, I was. Very pleased.” Fuck, that sounded perverted. “J-just I’d like to try someone different.”
    “No problem, sir.” She tapped away at a keyboard. “Just as well, since Remy isn’t working tomorrow. I’ll put you down for two seats. Your