"What?" My voice goes up an octave. "How did you know he was here?"
Daniel's eyes narrow and he sips his drink. "You didn't think you could hide this from me, did you?" he asks. "I read an article."
"You follow motorcycle racing?" I ask, my voice dripping with disbelief.
"No," he says. "But I follow hot guys. And Gaige O'Neal is hot as hell. Isn't he? Tell me he's lying around the pool sunning himself. Oh, tell me he needs a cabana boy."
"Ugh, cut it out. That's my stepbrother you're talking about."
"So what?" Daniel asks.
"So, it's repulsive," I say. Is it obvious that I'm lying? "I don't think of him that way." But my protests sound weak, feeble, and I have to take a sip of my drink to cover up my faltering voice.
Daniel studies me from across the table. "First of all, you're not related. Didn't you only meet a few years ago, anyway?"
"When we were seventeen," I say. "Anyway, he's completely skeevy. He's a total manwhore."
"You know that's how I like 'em," Daniel says, wiggling his eyebrows. "Maybe he's just not finding what he needs, screwing all those girls."
I laugh. "You want me to set you up, let him know you're hot for him?"
"I'll settle for the opportunity to ogle him as he lays out by the pool," Daniel says. "You can even join us if you like."
"Well, you'll have to wait on that, because he's in Vegas for the weekend. With my new boss, Chelsea." The drink is making me a little tipsy, and I put extra emphasis on her name, punctuating it at the end with a dramatic eye roll.
"Ooh, this sounds good," Daniel says. "First day at the job and we already hate the boss? Doesn't she know you're the CEO's daughter? How dare she get on your bad side?"
"She definitely knows I'm the CEO's daughter," I say. "I'm sure that's why she hates me. That, or..."
"Or what?"
"I don't know," I say. If I tell Daniel that I think Chelsea has the hots for Gaige, he'll think I'm crushing on Gaige myself. And that's not something I want to discuss, not with anyone. "It's nothing. I'm going to be stuck traveling with them to Japan. I'm babysitting Gaige, basically. Can you imagine?"
"Mmm," he says, closing his eyes. "Wait. I'm imagining it right now. In this scenario, he's shirtless. Uh oh, all of his pants were lost by the baggage handlers. How unfortunate."
I reach across the table and slap Daniel's hand. "Open your eyes. You should be expressing your sympathy for me, not fantasizing about my asshole stepbrother."
"Traveling to Japan to babysit one of the hottest men on the planet?" he asks. "Yeah, let me see if I can muster up some sympathy for you." He pauses for a second. "Nope, I just can't do it. Sorry."
"You're a terrible friend."
"Aw," Daniel pouts and flags down our waitress as she passes, ordering another round of drinks. "Fine. We won't discuss your stepbrother and how sexy he is. We'll talk about the boss instead. She's a bitch, right? Tell me all about what a bitch she is."
"She hates me, and --" I start, but Daniel interrupts.
"Wait. Okay, we can get back to bitchface in a second," he says. "Of course, I already hate her because she's on her way to -- where did you say she was taking my future husband?"
"Vegas."
"Okay, because she's on her way to Vegas with my future husband," he says. "I will say one more thing, and then mum's the word, okay?"
I exhale heavily, downing the rest of my drink. "Go ahead. What?"
"So they call him Tool, right?"
I groan loudly. "No way, I'm not talking about this. No, no, no, no."
"What?" He puts his hands up. "It's what they call him. You're acting as if I made this name up. All I want to know is if it's as legendary as they say it is."
"Holy shit, Daniel." I feel my face flush as I think about the tool Gaige left me in the office. It's not in the office anymore, though; obviously I couldn't keep it there, so the box is carefully hidden behind some clothes in my closet. I'm so tipsy, I almost tell Daniel what Gaige did. Except I can't quite bring myself to do it. I suddenly feel like holding on to this, my little secret. "I'm not telling you about Gaige's tool."
He leans forward and lowers his voice to a conspiratorial level. "So you know about it, then."
"I do not know about it!" I yelp, sounding defensive. "I know nothing about Gaige's dick, thank you very much. I'll leave that to whatever floosy of the hour he's hooking up with."
Daniel raises his eyebrows and leans back in his chair, cocktail in hand, surveying me. "Floosy, huh?"
"That's right. Floosy."
"Are you ninety years old?" he asks. "And you're calling me a spinster."