I just want to warn everybody before the story progresses any further that this story is rated M for a reason – Nick isn't exactly an angel in this and there definitely will be sex scenes in future, so if you don't like vulgar/crude language or if you have anything against sex scenes in stories, please try to either overlook it or not read the story.


"So, how was your meeting with Nick?"

I glare across the table at Demi. If my best friend wasn't six months pregnant, I would definitely hit her right about now. She has that stupid grin plastered across her face that she uses whenever she thinks she's right about something. This is most definitely something that Demi was not right about.

"You have an ass of a brother-in-law."

"Oh, I knew that," she says with a wave of her hand. "But he's a genius. You know Phil, Marcia's husband? That entire thing was totally down to Nick."

"And how exactly did that one work out?"

"Well, Marcia came to me and said she wanted to settle down, so I sent her to Nick. He walked her through it all, then she was engaged six months after she met Phil at a bar with Nick." Demi grins once again. "I cannot wait to see who he finds for you!"

I try to tell myself to hold back, but Nick's words in the bar are gnawing away at me and I suddenly find myself puking up word vomit. "Is it true that you said I had potential?" I snap.

She pauses, freezing before she can lift her up of tea to her lips. "Well, don't you?"

"You always told me that I shouldn't have to change myself just to find a husband, Dem."

"I know. I stand by that statement," she answers, then sighs defeatedly. "But you know me, Mi. I'm an optimist. I want you to find someone who makes you happy." She pauses again then shakes her head. "I just think you need to cut back on the hours at work and maybe put yourself out there a little more. Maybe change your wardrobe up a little."

"I do put myself out there!"

"Sure you do. In the courtroom. In there, you're like this crazy lioness going in for the kill. You can take anybody down. But out here in the real world? Not so much." Demi sips her tea and smiles sadly. "I'm trying to do what's best for you here by helping you out with the whole Nick thing. Just do me a favor and listen to Nick, okay? He really does know what he's talking about."

"That man is an obnoxious, self-absorbed, incompetent –"

"Genius. He's a genius, Miley, whether you want to admit that or not. You can call him obnoxious and self-absorbed and incompetent all you want, but he knows better than anyone what he's taking about when it comes to relationships. Give the guy a shot. I promise that, if things still aren't going well with him in a month, I'll let you give up on him. But give him some time to work his magic and you'll see what I'm talking about," she says.

I sigh dramatically. "I don't know, Dem. It sounds like a hell of a lot of money going down the drain."

She grins at me across the table. "Trust me, this money will not be wasted. In fact, it will be the best money you've ever spent, so long as you do exactly what he says and don't push his advice aside."

"Why are you so sure that he knows what he's talking about?"

"Who do you think helped Joe the entire time we were dating?"

I think back to when we were in college and Demi had just started dating Joe, who was in his second year of medical school. I remember thinking that he had come up with the sweetest and most romantic dates I had ever heard about. I had put it all down to the fact that he was older and more experienced than we were. Surely all of that couldn't be down to Nick.

"But that picnic on the beach –"

"All Nick."

"And the hot air balloon?"

"Courtesy of my darling brother-in-law."

I gape at her and lift my cup of coffee to my mouth. "Well, I'll be damned," I murmur.

"Do you believe me now?" she asks teasingly. "He even came up with the idea for Joe's proposal. I should probably be offended that he wasn't creative enough to come up with it himself, but it was just so romantic that I don't really care who came up with it."

I remember the day Demi got engaged like it was yesterday. To most people, it probably sounds cheesy, but as I recall, it was the proposal girls dreamed of as children when their mothers read them fairytales. It was Valentine's Day in Joe's final year of medical school. He had sent Demi on a treasure hunt around town, finishing in his apartment with Joe on one knee.

"Nick came up with that?"

"You're damn right he did. See, he isn't so bad, is he?"

"I wouldn't go that far."

Demi laughs and rests her hand on her round stomach. "He's helping Joe with the nursery, you know," she gushes.

I pause. "Why are you so set on making me like Nick?"

"Because I have known you since we were kids, and I know that unless you feel like you like him and can trust him, you aren't going to let him help you. And you need him to help you, Mi."

"I –"

"You came to me for help, and I sent you to him. Give him a shot, okay?" She stands up and brings a plate of cookies over to the table. "So, when do you meet him again?"

"Tonight, actually."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes. Same disgusting sports bar as last time, I hear."

Demi laughs. "You have no clue, do you?"

"What?"

"I'll let you work that one out on your own," she answers with a wink. "That one certainly has some secrets up his sleeve."

"You're killing me here."

Demi chuckles and shakes her head. "Trust me, when you find out everything there is to know about Nick, you definitely won't be thinking that he's arrogant or obnoxious or whatever else you think he is."


I walk into the bar and look around. Nick is sitting in the same booth as our last meeting, observing everyone in the bar with a casual stare. His eyes find me amongst the crowd of construction workers and he smiles. He lifts his hand in a lazy wave and motions for me to join him.

I make my way over to the booth and sit down across from him. "Why are we back here?"

He ignores my question and gestures to a tall glass of wine. "I got you the same as last time. Hope you don't mind." He lifts his beer bottle to his lips and takes a gulp. "So, how are you today?"

"Can we skip the pleasantries please? Just tell me why we're back here."

He regards me intensely for a moment, then says, "You are going to show me how you pick up guys."

I freeze. "What?" I hiss.

"You're going to show me how you approach guys in a bar. Did I stutter?" He smiles amusedly and leans back in his seat. "I'm going to pick a guy, you're going to go up to him and then I will step in when I think that I've seen enough."

"I am not doing that."

"You'll do it if you want to get married within the next decade."

I purse my lips tightly and glare at him. "I don't need to show you how I approach guys in order to find a husband."

"Actually, you kind of do," he replies. "I need to see what you're doing wrong so that we can fix it." He leans over the table and undoes two buttons on my blouse. "There. Take off that blazer too and then you're good to go."

"I could get you done for sexual harassment for doing that."

"You could. But you won't."

I glare at him and say, "I'm not going to go up to some random guy and try to pick him up."

"Yes, you are." Nick surveys the room. His eyes zone in on one man leaning against the bar on his own. "That guy," he commands.

"No way."

He taps my ankle with the toe of his shoe and smiles. "I promise that I'll save you if things get too heavy."

I sigh and down the rest of my drink quickly. "I am not comfortable with this."

"You don't have to be comfortable with it. You just have to do it so I can observe and take a few mental notes. Now go before I lose my patience with you."

I shoot him a death glare, then reluctantly get up from my seat and make my way across the wooden floor of the bar. I stop beside the man Nick picked out and clear my throat awkwardly.

"Hello."

"Hi," the man says, hardly even looking at me, his attention still pointed at the screen playing tonight's baseball game.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

That seems to grab his attention, because he looks away from the sports game on the television and turns his focus to me. "Aren't I supposed to be the one asking you that question?" he asks, a lewd smile slowly creeping across his face.

"Perhaps," I stutter.

"So, what's your name?"

"Miley."

"That's unusual."

I've been told how unusual my name is since I was in kindergarten. I don't need some filthy, sweaty, lecherous creep in a scummy bar to tell me too.

"I know. My dad used to call me 'Smiley' as a baby, and eventually the 's' was dropped and I just became Miley."

He nods, clearly pretending to be interested but really not giving a rat's ass. "That sounds awesome," he says distractedly, the lying and disinterested tone blatant. "So, how about that drink? What are you having?" He looks at me again. "Or would you rather just leave right now?" he adds with a perverted wink.

Before I can answer, I feel a hand on my shoulder. "Come on, sis. Dad will be here soon."

I turn quickly and find Nick standing behind me, a false smile plastered across his face. He gently nudges me away from the man at the bar and steps in front of me to keep me away from the creep who is still watching me lustfully.

"I was just about to buy the lady a drink," the man says, looking Nick up and down.

"I've already got her one, thank you. We'll just be leaving now." He steers me away from the bar and back to our booth.

"So we're siblings now?"

"When there are pigs like him hanging around, yes."

"Well, how did I do?"

"For a start, you should avoid going into the detailed history of the origins of your name," he answers drily.

I glare at him. "What else was I supposed to talk about? Any idiot can tell that I have absolutely nothing in common with that man."

"You spoke to him for about ninety seconds. Therefore, you have no clue how much or how little you have in common with that guy, so how about you drop your prejudices against construction workers before we talk over everything that went badly with that conversation back there?" he answers. "Apart from the history of the name 'Miley', you might want to loosen up. You looked like a walking plank."

"Don't hold back now," I mutter sarcastically.

"If I hold back, how are you going to learn?" he asks. Nick then glances over at the man we left standing at the bar and smirks over at me. "A little touching wouldn't go amiss either."

"Excuse me? I'm not going to touch someone I just met in some bar, thank you very much!"

"I'm not talking about grabbing him or anything, Miley. All I'm suggesting is touching his shoulder or his arm or something. It would be an improvement to standing there with your arms folded like you don't want to be here."

"I don't want to be here."

He observes me carefully. "Maybe that's the problem. You just have such an issue with this place and the people in it that you're reluctant to actually cooperate."

"I am not reluctant to cooperate!"

"Then how about you start doing us both a favour and listen to what I've got to say?"

I roll my eyes subtly and take a sip of wine to calm myself down. "Now that you've seen how I approach guys, why don't you tell me what our next step is?"

"Burning the pantsuit."

"Is that a literal or a metaphorical suggestion?"

"That's your own choice," he answers with a cheeky wink.

"We'll go with metaphorical." I narrow my eyes suspiciously at him. "So tell me, where are we really going from here?"

"Well, you and I are going shopping tomorrow."

"How do you know I don't already have plans for tomorrow?"

"I got Demi to check your schedule," he responds. "And even if you did have plans, I guess you'd just have to reschedule, wouldn't you?" He smiles cockily across the table at me and says, "And after we redress you completely, you and I are going to a party."

"Why do I have to purchase a new wardrobe?"

"A man looks at a woman based on their appearance. Sure, personality and all that crap matters, but a dude isn't going to get the chance to know your personality unless you reel him in first, and to reel him in, you need to actually make him want to look at you. Therefore, I am going to help you find some clothes that men actually find attractive rather than those damn pantsuits you insist on wearing."

"I still do not understand why you hold such a grudge against pantsuits."

"Because while a man should have a hard-on looking at a woman he finds attractive, a pantsuit has the opposite effect."

"You sicken me."

"No, my honesty sickens you. There's a huge difference there."

I roll my eyes yet again and focus my attention back on Nick. "Back to my point. Why are we going to a party tomorrow night? Aren't we getting a little bit ahead of ourselves?"

"My parents are having a party to celebrate the baby. There's no better opportunity," he answers.

"But –"

"No buts. You would be going anyway, right? The only difference is that you're going to spend the night with me, and I am going to introduce you to all of Joe's mind-numbingly boring doctor friends."

I glare at Nick. "Just because they are doctors does not mean they are boring."

"Perhaps not, but I've met Joe's friends, and they're almost as dull as watching paint dry," he says. Something across the room catches his eye, and he smirks to himself. "I'll see you tomorrow, bright and early at ten thirty."

"Putting 'early' and 'ten thirty' in the same sentence is a bit of an oxymoron, don't you think?"

"Whatever you say," he chuckles. "Well, I've got to dash. See you tomorrow, Miss Miley." He flashes me a quick wink, grabs his beer bottle and slides out of the booth, walking away from me.

As I gather my things and prepare to leave, I glance across the room at Nick. He's leaning close to some tall blonde in denim cut-offs and a tight t-shirt. I roll my eyes – he's just the kind of guy I've been trying to avoid. All he seems to do is chase after women for sex all the time, and I just do not understand how or why he does it.

He doesn't even lift his head to look at me as I walk past him and out of the bar. It could be that I'm right in keeping my distance from Nick. In fact, I know that I'm right in keeping my distance, because I know that if I ever came to be friends with him, I would find myself hating him within days.