That drew a burst of laughter out of her. “It’s not worth your time anyway. There’s nothing I’ll do drunk that I wouldn’t also do sober. Which if you knew who I was, you’d already know.” Summer tipped back the last of her drink and put the glass down. “Why don’t you guess?”
“Oh,” he said, smirking, “Clever one, aren’t you? I like that, really I do. But seriously, you’re the smart type aren’t you? Not likely to swoon at my Storm Charm, are you?”
He tipped back the champagne glass and placed it gracefully on another waiter’s plate without batting an eyelash.
“Are you looking for someone to swoon? I know how,” she countered. “So far you aren’t impressing me enough for that, though.” The little voice of disappointment tugged on her mental sleeve again, whispering that he didn’t know who she was, and didn’t care, and just wanted someone to tell him how pretty he was.
“Well, I’ll just have to try harder, now won’t I?” he said, giving her a toothy grin at the thought of a challenge. Sure, the girls that were weeping at his feet were nice for his ego – but he always loved the pretty ones who played hard to get. It made him want them more. Masochistic? Maybe. Sue him.
“It might work better if you knew my name,” Summer pointed out, again. “Y’see, /I’m/ only interested in the clever ones, myself. I’m not sure you could keep up with me.” It’s a double play, but he probably wasn’t aware of that — keep up with her mentally, or in flight?
“Come on, Mr Storm. Do try harder. Impress me.”
His grin faltered, but he was never one to be easily deterred. She was about to learn that the hard way.
“Well how about a trade, ma’am?” he asked, thinking on his feet, “You give me your name and your number, and I shall offer my services to you in any way, shape or form you so desire. Sound good?”
“Desire,” she repeated. “You’re got a lot of that.” She stepped closer, eyes a little distant. “And … frustration. Because I’m not as easy as you thought? You want me to — to ask for your services sexually. Determined. That’s interesting. I’ve always heard you were very, what’s the word I want? fancy-free.”
She blinked, eyes clearing, and looked up at him properly. “I’m an empath, Mr Storm. My name is Summer. You’ll have to earn the number. I think you can come up with a way to do that.”