Triple Time

“Nothing.”

She rolled her cornflower-blue eyes, eyes that seemed so at odds with the rest of her coloring. Pale mocha skin. Jet black hair. “That’s not what your friend Jack seemed to think.”

“He’s not my friend.” And he wasn’t exactly thinking with the head on his shoulders.”

“You want your boss to endorse you for something, right?” Devin plowed on as if he hadn’t even spoken.

Gabe took another swig of root beer and nodded. “District Attorney when he leaves office.”

“And he won’t because he thinks you’re too stuffy.”

“In a nutshell.”

“So let’s unstuff you.”

“Unstuff?” His voice rose an octave, and several people turned to stare at them. Could this get any more embarrassing? What was it with him and public humiliation lately? Maybe he should avoid restaurants altogether for the foreseeable future.

“Sure.” She got up and walked around the table, surveying him from every angle as if he was a prize steer. He half expected her to pry open his mouth and check his teeth. “You’re good raw material. I can work with that. And let’s face it, I’m probably the least repressed person you know. By a long shot.”

Raw material? What did she think this was? Cool Eye for the Uptight Guy?

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

“I’m not taking no for an answer.” She sat back down across from him, pinning him with those blue eyes, now a deeper almost denim. “Consider it payback. For Victor.”

“I haven’t found him yet.”

“But you agreed to try. That counts for something.”

“You’re Holly’s friend.” And, since their kiss, the object of his late-night fantasies. Yet another reason this idea of hers had train wreck written all over it. “It’s the least I can do. I don’t need to be paid back. I’ll take my chances at the Feast of San Gennaro.”

She tucked her hair behind the ear with four piercings. “What’s the feast got to do with it?”

Damn. It was like looking at her made his brain shut down, leaving his mouth to run free. “Holcomb wants me to go with him. Prove I can relate to the ‘common man,’ whatever that means. Get them to vote for me.”

“That gives us...” She pulled her smartphone from her pants pocket and scrolled through her calendar. “Almost six weeks. Plenty of time.”

“Time?” He pushed his plate away. “For what?”

She whipped out a notepad and pen from the depths of her bottomless handbag and started scribbling. “For me to loosen you up.”

4 (#ulink_5a8ecf40-0c43-5a8e-8c71-ce8479c3aa42)

“YOU WANT TO take me where?” Gabe crossed his arms and leaned against the doorjamb. It had been three days since Devin had announced her plan to “unstuff” him, and truth be told he hoped she’d forgotten the whole thing. Then she’d shown up at his Tribeca apartment looking like a cast member from Hair and said she was taking him to...

“A rave,” she repeated, adjusting the fringed tube top she’d paired with a denim miniskirt and white gogo boots. The movement did wonderful things for her breasts. “It’s an all-night dance party.”

“I know what a rave is.” Gabe smirked. “I crawl out from under my rock once in a while.” Plus, he had a case a couple of years ago involving a rave.

“Well, come on, then. We’re burning midnight.”

He looked down at his polo shirt and khakis. Another ten minutes and she would have caught him bare chested and in sweatpants, his usual bedtime attire. “Don’t you think I’m a little underdressed?”

She shook her head, her long, dark hair, held off her face by a floral band, rippling. “Anything goes at these things.”

He grimaced, remembering his case. Teenagers, illegal substances and slam dancing were a lethal combination. “So I’ve heard.”

“If you’re talking about drugs and sex...”

He raised an eyebrow.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Do you really think I’m so stupid I’d put your job at risk?”

“No, I don’t think you’re stupid at all.” She might not have an Ivy League education like most of his colleagues, but he’d pit her street smarts against their book learning any day.

“Not all raves are dens of iniquity. True rave culture is about peace, unity and respect. It’s about expressing yourself in any way you feel comfortable, in a place where you feel no fear, just love and joy from everyone around you.”

He snorted. “You sound like a greeting card.”

“Very funny. You need to loosen up, and this will get you out of your comfort zone and in touch with younger voters.” She tapped one patent-leather toe on the linoleum. “Now quit stalling and let’s go.”

Busted.

He picked up his keys and wallet from the hall table, stuffed them in his pockets and closed the door. He wasn’t pleased that Holcomb seemed to think he needed fixing, but Devin was front and center, ready, willing and able to help him “express himself.” Might as well get it over with. “Where exactly are we going?”

She started down the corridor. “A vacant warehouse in the meat-packing district.”

He trailed after her, admiring the way the skintight skirt cupped her ample bottom. Why did the bad girls always look so good?

They stopped at the elevator and he pressed the down button. “How do you find out about these events? Is there some sort of website or something?”

“There are message boards and forums.” With a ding, the elevator door slid open and she got in. “But I found out about this one from some friends. That’s how I know it’s okay.”

He followed her inside and hit the button for the ground floor. “So my job’s safe. I still don’t understand how going to a rave is supposed to get Holcomb to endorse me.”

“Your boss wants you to be more relaxed, more spontaneous, right?” She did a little shimmy, bringing her backside dangerously close to his groin. “There’s nothing more freeing than dance.”

Oh, yeah, that was freeing, all right. Any more freeing and he’d take her right there in the damned elevator.

He stabbed at the button again, as if that would speed their trip. This night was going be torture. In more ways than one.

Ding.

The elevator opened and Gabe hightailed it out of there. Maybe outside the cramped car he stood a chance of resisting her.

Right. And maybe he stood a chance of serving on the United States Supreme Court. She bent down to pull up one of her boots, simultaneously lifting her skirt and lowering her tube top, and he swore under his breath. Like she wasn’t showing enough skin already.

“I’ll get us a cab.” Without so much as a backward glance, he strode across the lobby, through the door and to the curb, his arm raised. The sooner this evening started, the sooner it would end.