by Jolie Day
Clay and I got our shit scattered around while we pack, load up, and do some last-minute maintenance on the bikes. Max watches, sipping a beer, and gives us tips as we go. He’s the master of long road trips and knows better than anybody how to get ready for one.
He helps me adjust some of my luggage on the bike. “How many days have you got to get there?”
“About five.” I shrug. “We’ll stop and rest a few times, have some time to enjoy the sights.”
“I’m almost more excited about the ride than spending time in Vegas,” Clay pipes in while packing up his own bike. “It’ll be a nice change from taking the private jet.”
Vorn cuts his eyes to Clay. “After a long trip like that, buddy, your ass’ll be screamin’, and you’ll be begging to lay back on those plane cushions.”
“And get sucked off by the flight attendant,” somebody calls from behind.
Everybody chuckles, but Clay’s quick to turn his attention back to me. “Well, there’s always a chance we’ll run into Charlie at the hotel.” He shoots me a look, and I can tell he’s just trying to rile me up.
I do my best to ignore his ass.
Max’s head pops up at that. “Who’s Charlie?”
“A hottie from work.” Clay smirks. “Our new Procurement Manager. The big bad wolf over here kissed her, and now I think he’s got a crush on her.”
“Shut up, man. I don’t have a crush on her.” I try not to sound like an embarrassed and defensive douche, but I sound exactly like an embarrassed and defensive douche. “And stop calling me that, dick-bag. Anyway…I didn’t fucking kiss her. She kissed me. Plus, she’s only here on a work visa, and she’s leaving in a few months—so don’t get any fucked-up ideas.”
It takes everything in me not to blurt out how she kissed me again in my private locker room—and that I nailed her against the wall. Just the thought of it makes me smile like an idiot, and of course, the guys can’t just let it slide.
“Look at that shit-eating grin,” Max teases. “I think you’re right, Clay. Our boy here’s in love.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, man. It’s not like that.” I laugh them off, but by the way they’re staring at me, I know they’re not gonna let it go. “Okay, something might have happened. But Clay, you better keep your fuckin’ mouth shut about it. I don’t want everybody in the office knowing. I’ll tell Eric myself.” I glance down at the time on my phone. “Where is he, anyway? He was supposed to be here an hour ago.”
Vorn stares at Clay. “Where’s Eric? In his shop?”
“Yep. Said something came up, and he’d call back.”
“Something came up? What, his dick? Hope she’s hot.”
Clay shakes his head. “Yeah, right. Probably some son of a bitch with a broken-down bike demanding everything and doesn’t want to pay what’s owed. Haggling bastards. Probably won’t even leave a tip.”
“Why can’t Eric know?” Max is clueless to all the details of what’s going on with Charlie.
“Eric’s her ex.” I know how it sounds when I say it. A wave of guilt for breaking bro-code washes over me.
“Huh? No way, man. I know for a fact it wasn’t serious.” Clay claps his hand on my shoulder. “You can ask him yourself.”
“It doesn’t matter. An ex is an ex.”
They look awfully fucking happy that this girl seems to have gotten under my skin, but I just keep working on my bike, hoping they’ll change the subject. The more I think about it, the more I’ll probably end up doing something stupid while we’re in Vegas. So, it’s best if I just put it out of my head.
But thinking about it, though, it’s perfect: A sexy woman with no expectations of me, other than phenomenal sex. What else can I ask for?
Charlie had asked to attend a fashion conference there, and it just so happens to be in the same time frame we’re meeting with our attorneys about the IPO. I could’ve asked my assistant Anne-Louise when and where her conference was, but why go through the trouble? Even if I did know, it’s not like I’d stalk her like some creepy fuck, or worse, knock on her door. But, because it was more than possible we’d be staying at the same hotel, due to the overlapping time frame, we might run into each other.
“Just to be clear,” Clay continues. “The ‘thing’ that might have happened between you two…”
I’ve never met somebody so ready to get punched. I cut my eyes at him and keep my mouth shut, but he knows damn well what happened. He’s just trying to make me say it out loud. I won’t.
Thankfully, my phone rings—ha! the perfect distraction. It’s Eric calling—also, perfect timing.
“Hey, man, what’s up? Where are you?”
“Bad news, Wolf.” I can hear Eric doing his best to muffle the noise of the background. “I’m not gonna be able to make it to Vegas. Think you and Clay can handle the attorneys without me?”
“Sure, no problem. Everything okay?”
“Somebody broke into the bike shop, again. And this time, I’m a hundred percent sure it was those Saro’s Sons bastards. I’m gonna have to hang back here and get things squared away.”
“What the fuck? Do you want us to stop by?”
“Nah, man. There’s nothing to see here. All clear.”
“Don’t worry about it. We’ve got you covered.”
Clay waves his hands around like a lunatic to get my attention. I look up to see him mouthing something, but I try to ignore him while Eric continues explaining what happened at the shop.
“Ask him about Charlie,” Clay mouths.
Are you fucking kidding me?
“Is that Clay I hear in the background? What’s he going on about? Tell him there’ll be no hijacking. Even though the bastards sure would deserve it.”
“Vorn already told him. We’ll fuck the motherfuckers up when the time’s right.”
“That’s good advice.”
“Yep, sure is.” I run my hand across my face and sigh in exasperation. “Ah, and…”
“Ask him about Charlie!” Clay yells, until it’s finally loud enough for Eric to hear.
I give him an annoyed “I’m about to—stay the fuck out of it” look.
Damn, this dude. What are we, thirteen? Fuck!
“What is it? Spit it out.”
I realize none of them are going to let this go until I just come out with it, and truthfully, I’m curious to know what did happen between him and Charlie.
“All right, your ex, Charlie. What was that all about?”
Eric chuckles. “Aw, man, in all fairness, technically, she’s not really an ex.”
I can’t help but feel a surge of relief flare in my gut when he says it. “Technically?”
“I just said it, ’cause on our first date, we accidentally ran into Lola. Remember that crazy chick?” I did. She was hot but fuckin’ bat-shit. She stalked the hell out of him. “So, I asked Char to pretend to be my girlfriend for a few minutes. You know, scare Lola off. It actually fucking worked, man. Then it became a running gag.”
“She thought that was funny?”
“Hey, we were just having some fun, man. Nothing to get all worked up about. Besides, who wouldn’t want an ex like that?”
“But something did happen with her?”
“Sure. We went on a few dates. It fizzled out. No big deal.”
My blood starts boiling when I think about the two of them together. “A few dates? How many?”
“He wants to know if you dipped your dick in her, man,” Vorn shouts from the back, and then…silence. Assholes.
“Listen. There’s not much to tell. She kind of reminded me of an ex, complained I liked my bikes more than her.”
It’s dead silent in the room when everybody tries to listen to what Eric’s saying. When he finally says, “Nothing happened,” Max gets a “game on” kind of look on his face, while Clay starts mouthing a silent, “I told you so!”
Then Clay just can’t help but add loudly, “See, so he won’t mind that you two—”
I cut
him off. “Thanks for checking in, and keep us in the loop if you hear anything about the shop. Or if you need us back here.”
“Wait.” I hear him say just before I hang up. “Why are you asking about her?”
“Okay. Thing is,” I start, but he cuts me off.
“If you’re trying to get a piece of that—go for it. It won’t hurt my feelings any. And maybe it’ll help you get your head on straight for this IPO deal.”
“My head is on straight,” I shoot back. “Listen, I gotta go.” I end the call and look back at Clay. “There. Happy?”
“Aren’t you?” He smirks.
I swear I’m gonna fuckin’ punch him before our trip to Vegas. “Okay, so she’s not his ex. According to him, they didn’t fuck.” I cross my arms. “But who knows how she feels about it? I’m just glad I don’t have to regret that little stunt in the locker room.”
“Whatever,” Clay groans, unconvinced. “But wait—stunt? You didn’t say you banged her in the locker room?”
“Damn, that’s hot,” somebody mumbles in the back.
I shake my head, feeling that same stupid grin spread across my face again. It’d been hot. So fucking hot.
I rub the stubble on my chin. “But she’s still my employee,” I remind them—and myself.
“Who’s leaving in a few months,” Max counters, looking entertained.
Of course he’d approve. He’s always looking for any chance he can to get us married off like him.
It’s times like this when I wish we were back at the office where I’d have the right to tell Clay to drop the shit and get back to work. But there’s no boss card to play when we’re just working on our bikes and having a few beers in the club’s garage. Worse, we’re about to head off on this trip to Vegas, and I know I haven’t heard the last of this.
“What’s going on with Eric?” Ralphie asks, giving me the relief of changing the subject.
“He says somebody broke into the shop. He thinks the Sons have something to do with it.”
Vorn crosses his arms and leans against the wall, exchanging glances with Ralphie. “We’ll look into it.”
“Good.” Max nods.
“Just don’t do anything without talking to me first,” Vorn adds. “Aside from this break-in, if they’re even the ones behind it, we haven’t had any problems with them here in New York in a while, and I’d like to keep it that way. I don’t want things getting all stirred up again. We’ve got enough problems to deal with in Rhode Island.”
“Sure thing, boss,” Ralphie says, and they both nod in agreement.
Max helps us finish load up and gives us a few notes on our route. I try one last time to convince him to ride along, but he doesn’t want to leave his wife behind right now. It’s just another reminder that married life isn’t for me. I get an exhilarating feeling just before a long ride, and I’d hate to have strong enough feelings for somebody to overshadow that. It’s the last push I need to put it out of my mind for good.
But Clay isn’t so quick to let it go, just as I predicted. When he’s heading back to his place to crash before we head out early in the morning, he turns to me one last time.
“I’m down for whatever you decide to do. But want to hear my real opinion?”
“Damn, Clay, just let it go, would you?” I groan, rolling my eyes.
His voice turns serious. “Hear me out. I talk a lot of shit, but I don’t think you should hit that again.”
“What the fuck, man?” I’m surprised by the anger I feel at the way he talks about it. For some reason, I can’t talk about Charlie the same way we usually talk about other women. “Are you fucking high?”
“She’s not gonna stay, like you said. You don’t wanna get wrapped up in whatever that might be and get hurt.” He runs a hand through his blond hair. “You just shouldn’t touch her, is all I’m saying, bro.”
I laugh out loud, almost spitting out my beer. “Me? Get hurt? That’s fuckin’ impossible.”
“Whatever you say, man.”
Finally, he puts on his helmet, starts up his bike, and rides off. When we pack up and get ready to leave, I can’t believe what’s gotten into everybody. Clay’s been throwing around comments about the thrill of the chase getting old and how we should settle down. He seems to have forgotten that I haven’t felt emotionally attached to a woman since high school. Then there’s Max and Eric egging the whole thing on, too.
I shake my head, say goodbye to the rest of the guys, and leave, ready to take in the peace and quiet of my big empty home. This is why I could never allow myself to feel enough for a woman to be in the position to get hurt. I live for the bachelor life where I’ve got the freedom to go on trips without missing anybody. I can have company over any time I feel a little lonely and then send them on their way so I can be alone again.
It’s the perfect life. And no chick’s going to mess that up for me—not even a sexy British one who happens to be amazing in bed. But I guess I don’t really know that. She was amazing up against the wall, but we’ve never used a bed. I guess that could change in Vegas, if I accidentally run into her.
No, I tell myself before I get a hard-on. Don’t even go there, buddy.
It’s easier than I thought it’d be to put Charlie out of my head and fall asleep.
Morning comes fast, and soon Clay’s parked out front, blasting his horn. With everything packed, I jump on my bike, and off we ride to Vegas.
10
Charlie
The upscale hotel Embry put me up in is impressive to say the least with its lavish, sprawling lobby and conference rooms with gleaming marble tiles, tiered chandeliers, and gold fountains. As I take in the sight of the expensive hotel, I find myself looking around over my shoulder to see if I spot Mr. Embry himself, knowing he’ll be staying in this same place on business. I overheard Anne-Louise making arrangements and booking the same hotel.
But thankfully, I don’t see him or anyone else from Embry. It’s a disappointment and a relief, but I know I need to focus on what I’m here for—which is the fashion conference. Once I’m checked in, I’m directed to a large meeting room where a name tag is waiting for me up front. I stick it on my suit jacket and hit up the complimentary bar, introducing myself to a few fellow attendees along the way.
I’m genuinely interested in learning as much as I can from my colleagues during the seminars, but I find it difficult to concentrate while my mind keeps drifting to thoughts of Joel. After an introduction from one of the presenters, followed by a few smaller lectures and presentations, I become so engrossed that the first day of the conference goes by in a flash. Many of the attendees hang around afterwards to mingle and network—some of them making plans to meet up for dinner or drinks later.
I even catch sight of a few attractive men around who shoot me subtle glances. I know I could easily stick around and strike up conversation with one of them, and who knows what could happen? I might meet someone to take my mind off of my boss.
The rest of the conference goes by in a blur, and I’m disappointed (Yep, the relief is gone!) that I still haven’t run into Joel. As the last day comes to a close, I go back to my room to shower. Feeling rather worn down by the whole trip, and thinking it might be best to stay in and get ready for my flight back tomorrow, I change into more comfortable clothes and lay across the bed with my phone in hand. I chuckle to myself and decide it’s a great time to get my daily “sex dose” and call Nora. I flip to her name in my contacts and send a video chat request.
Her face lights up with a big smile as soon as it appears on the screen, and it looks like she’s in some kind of club.
“Hey, girlfriend! How’s Vegas?”
“Everything’s hunky-dory. I’m just hanging out in my room at the moment.”
“What? Your room?” Her eyes widen as if I’ve just said the most concerning thing in the world. “Hold on a second.” She excuses herself from whoever she’d been talking to and slips into a quieter room. “Charlie, why are you just sitting i
n your room when you’re literally in Vegas? Go get drinks! Play the slots! Something…anything!”
“Okay, calm down.” I laugh. “The evening’s young. I didn’t say I was sold on staying up here all night. I’m just resting before I decide what to get into.”
I worry my bottom lip, knowing it’s a tad bit of a lie. Okay, it’s a big lie. Ordering room service and vegging out in front of the Telly sounds like the most appealing thing to me right now, aside from the tempting option of stalking the lobby in hopes of seeing a certain someone.
I know he and a couple of his associates were planning to ride in on their bikes. Unfortunately, I have no idea when. Even if I had asked Anne-Louise, she wouldn’t have disclosed that information to me without informing him. It’s hard not to daydream about the sight of him on that bike riding along the desert roads, looking every bit as fine as he did when he pulled up to rescue me off the side of the highway. I wish I knew his room number. I’d totally go knocking. (“Hello there, boss, how are you? Long time no see…it’s totally not creepy that I have your hotel room number…so how about that dinner?”)
“Char!” Nora takes on the tone of a scolding mother. “What is it? I know you. I can tell when something’s bothering you.”
I groan to myself a little, knowing I’ve been caught. I tried to keep it to myself, but there’s no use hiding anything from her, and I can tell by the expression on her face that she’s not going to let up until I crack. Might as well save us both a bit of time and stop dancing around it.
“Okay, well…I didn’t want to say anything at first, because I’m a little embarrassed. But something might have happened at work a few days before I came here.”
“What do you mean, ‘might’? What something?”
I hide my face, still in disbelief about the whole thing. I wonder if it’s too late to back out of my confession. After all, if I don’t say it out loud, it’s almost like it never happened, right?
“Spill it, Charlotte Walker!” she shouts, almost startling me.