She tutted. “Where’s your sense of civic duty?”
“Hiding under my sense of self-preservation. The man could bore a tax accountant to death, Gem.”
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. I know you’ve had plenty of practice entertaining yourself.”
Ouch. He clutched his chest. “Jabs at my love life are completely uncalled-for and I won’t respond to them.” She was going to makesucha good politician when she finally built up enough cachet to run for mayor. Rowan was both excited and terrified at the prospect. “What are we raising funds for this time?”
“Children’s Aid Society.”
Ugh. He plucked the invitation from her claws. “Fine, yes, of course I’ll go.” Especially since Gem was paying. Perhaps this time he could drink enough wine to make What’s-his-name seem interesting. Then again, he liked his liver. “But I get to pick the tie this time.”
“Absolutely not.”
It was worth a try.
“You’re due a lunch break, right?” Gem asked, which was how Rowan ended up a few blocks from the library, drinking an iced tea while Gem sipped on a G and T.
“So, how is it you were introduced to hockey arse?” she asked with a smirk.
“One of the parents who came to pick up a kid after story time had a spectacular example.” Rowan hummed in memory. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen an arse so wonderfully peach-like in person. He wanted to take a big bite. “I was enraptured from first sight.”
Gem snorted. “Of course you were, you slut.”
“Gem, it was magnificent.” He sighed. “I didn’t even know its owner was famous until Taylor pointed out that Jordy’s face is plastered all over town.”
Gem arched an eyebrow. “Jordy Shaw?”
“Youknowhim?” And it was at this moment that Rowan remembered that Gem knew the entire team. Somehow, througha series of events Rowan was not clear on, Gem had become the de facto contract lawyer for most of the city’s professional athletes.
“We travel in the same circles,” Gem said carelessly. She sipped her G and T and considered him over the top of her glass. “Does this mean you’re finally cured?”
“Of what?” He lifted his glass in a toast and took a sip.
“Your appalling taste in men.”
Rowan nearly choked on his drink.
“Don’t give me that look. You vacillate between unemployable bums and overeducated pretentious douchebags.”
“Ouch,” Rowan muttered. He knew Gem had never liked any of his romantic partners—she didn’t make it a secret—but she usually saved her criticism for postbreakup bitchfests.
“You know it’s true. Your last dick had two master’s degrees and no tact.” Rowan opened his mouth to defend Darius, but Gem continued. “Darling, when I refused the lamb, he told me that Hitler was a vegetarian.” Rowan winced; that sounded all too plausible. “Which, aside from being obnoxious and a completely insipid thing to say, isn’t even factually correct.”
“Okay, so Darius was a bit….” Rowan searched for a tactful yet fitting term but had to give up. “Fine, yes, he was a douchebag. But that doesn’t mean—”
“Before Darius, there was Gary. Now you know I would never judge a man for his education or lack thereof, but Iwilljudge a man for being a waste of space.”
“Gem,” Rowan tried to cut in, but Gem was on a roll.
“Rowan. The world needs deliverymen, but only ones who can show up on time to do deliveries. The only ambition that man had, aside from beating the next level on his video game, was to be a kept man, and he wasn’t particular about who did the keeping.”
Gary had been a mistake of epic proportions. Rowan’s only excuse was that he’d had a mouth like a Hoover. “I know Gary was awful—”
Gem shot him a look. “The only reason I didn’t stage an intervention is because you caught him with his pants down before I could send out the invitations.”
“Technically, Gary wasn’t the one with his pants down.” Rowan wasn’t the only man who appreciated Gary’s skills.
“Rowan.”
