First Taste (The Lust List: Devon Stone #1) by Mira Bailee Page B

something in common.”
    I doubt that. But I’m not about to explain why he’s wrong. I can feel myself closing up again. Fortunately, an angry stomping approaches from behind.
    “Miss. Margot.” Keenly spits out each word with revulsion. “What in the name of professionalism is going on here?”

 
    I yank my feet out of the water and hurry to get upright. I stick a slippery foot into each sandal, and lean down to strap them, ignoring the spongy feel of the wet soles. Snatching my purse still lying on the ground, I’m certain I look like an ass to my boss right now.
    “Sorry. Mr. Keenly. I was just waiting on you. Celia said—”
    “Celia said to take a dip in the pool?”
    “Of course not. That was my choice.” Well, Devon’s choice. He’s standing behind me now, and I’m fully aware he’s close. So close that if I leaned back, even slightly, I’d be resting against his chest. My heart flutters, and I blush. But I am here to work… “Is there anything I can do for you today, Mr. Keenly?”
    He flares his nostrils as if just now noticing an awful smell. “You know? You can. Go to Exotic Blooms on Santa Monica. See their floral arrangements. Send me photos. And I’ll tell you which will be used for the party.”
    Couldn’t he have the florist send the photos themselves? “No problem.” Anything to get away from him. “Is there something you want specifically?”
    “Yes. For you to not make a single decision. No matter what, you are to call me. I can imagine the sort of things you’d approve. And if you’d like to keep your job, I suggest you not bother my friend Devon here.”
    “Friend, my ass.” Devon steps forward. “And the only one bothering me right now is you.”
    “Then forgive me, but Miss Margot has work to do. Even if she wasn’t bothering you, she should have been inside—”
    “I was helping her. And you shouldn’t be so presumptuous.”
    “Helping her do what, Mr. Stone?” Keenly glances at me and back at Devon. I’m just going to stand here and play along with whatever Devon wants to say.
    “Go to the florist, clearly.” He turns to me. “You ready?”
    Just smile and nod. “Yep.”
    We stride past Keenly, and I feel like we’re two teenagers making our getaway from a disapproving teacher. I stop by my car and turn back toward him. “Thank you. I don’t know why he hates me.”
    “He hates most people. But then again, most people hate him back. It’s the paying clients that adore him. He puts on a hell of a facade for them.”
    I smile, and pull out my phone to look up the address for Exotic Blooms.
    “I meant it when I said I’d help.”
    I eye him suspiciously. It’s one thing to make small talk in the backyard, but if he really wants to go with me to run an errand… something’s going on. “No thanks. You don’t have to.” I find the address and open my car door.
    “Oh, so you’ve got this now? I should just run along?”
    I turn around to see him waiting there, a condescending look on his face.
    “What? You want to go with me? Am I supposed to believe that?”
    At what point should I call him out on his bullshit? I’d give anything to be able to read his mind and know what he’s up to right now.
    “Isn’t it funny how Exotic Blooms sounds more like a gentlemen’s club than a flower shop?”
    “Sure. Funny.” I check the time and consider getting into the car and leaving, letting Devon hang in mid-thought.
    “It’s because it is.”
    “Is what?”
    “A strip club.” He snatches my phone and messes with my maps application.
    “I just got the address for it. It’s a flower shop. Don’t mess up my directions.”
    “There’s a florist of the same name on the same street. And see…” He hands the phone back to me. He’d gone into the address’ details and scrolled down to Exotic Blooms’ official website. “Go ahead. Tap the link.”
    I do, and I’m immediately greeted with a window asking me to validate I’m over the age of