"Hey, Asshole."
Her tone is both a challenge and a greeting, full of a teasing bravado that few women could pull off in this crowd, let alone back up if push came to shove.
"Alecia. What a line. You know better than to come onto me like that." I wag a finger at her which she pretends to bite. "You're a married woman."
Of course few women are this woman. Alecia Moore from Doylestown, PA. Better known to the world as Pink.
Pink and I shared a very brief, very hot and very dirty attraction during her separation from her husband back in 2008. And by "attraction" I mean that we screwed each other stupid every chance we got for about two weeks, until it went bad. And by "bad" I mean as ugly as it gets this side of monkeys throwing feces.
I shouldn't have been surprised at the ugly way we went down in flames considering she hit me as hard as she could the night we met. Apparently "Hi, I'm Tony. Have we had sex yet?" is not an acceptable pick-up line. But in my own defense I couldn't remember if we had. And I had no idea a girl could hit that hard. I learned a lot from Alecia in a very short period of time.
Funny to run into her at the White House of all places after all this time.
"Congratulations on the Peace Treaty," she tells me and I give her a little "who me?" shrug and a grin. There is absolutely no trace of modesty in either.
"I'm just the muscle the world sees when America rolls up its sleeves."
She nods, liking the metaphor. "Why don't you call me sometime?" I raise a brow at that. "Lick my tatts, Stark. I'm serious. I'm working with some organizations that could really use - "
Alecia has always been a very dedicated advocate for her chosen causes but I've got requests for help piling up faster than Pepper can recycle the envelopes.
"Sorry. No can do." She's too close now. I can smell hummus on her breath. Heavy on the garlic. My eyes dart around the room looking for an escape route. I've never been a fan of tight crowds and too much pressing of random flesh without my express consent makes me claustrophobic. I spy Pepper at 3 o'clock, over by the bar, and begin to edge in that direction. "I mean, I would but I've already got world hunger and the common cold penciled in. Wouldn't be fair to bump them, even for you, Sugar Pants. You know how it is."
"Don't be a shit, Tony." Her dark eyes narrow at me and the air crackles around her suddenly seeming alive with electricity. This is the Pink I know and adore. This is the Pink I had some of the hottest dirtiest sex of my life with. It was a glorious two weeks.
But I'm already moving off, heading for Potts. "Call Pepper next week. Tell her I said to cut you a few checks. Half a mill each up to four of your choosing and as long as you don't pick anything too freaky you can tell her I said to have legal whip up a couple of press releases saying how Stark Industries is invested in supporting the Blah Blah Blah, okay?"
Her glare gives way to a sigh and a roll of the eyes. She knows me well enough that she shouldn't be surprised.
"Give my love to your old man - but no tongue."
The last I see of her before the crowd swallows her up is her beautifully manicured middle finger, held high above everyone's heads so that I cannot fail to see it. I can't help but be impressed. Pink got a manicure? The girl has really grown up!
Potts is sipping her martini as she watches me approach. I signal for one of my own before leaning in to tell her "You're late."
"Sorry, I - "
"You know I hate coming to these things..."
"... my dress and the stupid cleaners..." She's flustered and her hands move in the air describing her frustration.
I wait for the bartender to set down my martini before picking it up and taking a sip, my eyes continuing to take in the room all the while. "... I was cornered by the wife of some Senator and I had zero clue who she was. Then Pink started in on me about her charities..."
"Alecia's here?" Pepper's eyes scan the crowd eagerly. "I loved her last video. I should really ..."
"…You're supposed to be here to help me."
"I'm sorry, but I couldn't make them press my dress any faster. Besides, if this party is like all the rest I'll be the one doing the real networ -"
"You look amazing. Is that new lip gloss?" I take down my drink in two gulps and fish out the speared onions.
"What did you say?" Big blue eyes come back to me, a little wide with surprise. "Did you just ask me about my lip gloss?"
"Yes. I haven't seen you wear that one before. Do you know if there's dancing after dinner? We haven't danced in a while." I chew the onions thoughtfully while giving her an easy once over. She really does look gorgeous. If I wasn't dying I might do something about it.
"No. No way." She's shaking her head. Even takes a tiny step back and bumps into the man behind her who gives her a smile and gets an apology in return. "I've told you before. No dancing. It gives people the wrong impression"
"For old time's sake?" I give her my most adorable tilt of the head but Pepper is doing her best impression of being an immovable object.
Last time she gave me that argument - the one about how it looks to other people, I honestly had my head too far up my own ass to understand what she was concerned about. I've done some growing up since then. And truth be told? Pepper is the one who networks the fund-raiser all night and once I'm good and lubricated Rhodey slips me out before I can make a scene and disgrace myself in the President's house.
Outside Happy is waiting with the car and I'm content to fall into the big back seat and doze as we slip silently through the streets of our nation's noble capitol city.