by Ava Harrison
“Mmm,” I say in return.
“So, what’s new with your job?”
I avert my eyes. I don’t want to have this conversation with Harper. I know how she feels about Drew, and she can’t know about us right now. “Everything is good. Still waiting on the restaurant closing to begin. How is Cal?” I ask, despite the fact I don’t care. He’s not my favorite person, but I’d never tell Harper. She loves him, and that’s good enough for me. I think he’s a pompous ass. Something about him is slimy. Harper is happy, though, so I put up with him.
“He’s Cal. He’s always working,” she says dejectedly.
“I can imagine.”
“What’s that supposed to mean, Bailey?”
“Nothing. I just mean with his job . . .”
“It’s hard. We’ve been struggling lately.”
“Because of me?” I ask, knowing that the position I put him in is likely at the top of their struggles.
“Not just that. I just . . . don’t trust him, Bailey.”
“What? What do you mean you don’t trust him?”
She blinks a couple of times. “I think he’s cheating.”
I jerk back. “Are you serious? Have you caught him doing something?”
She shakes her head vehemently. “No. Nothing concrete. He’s just been extra shifty lately. Working really late. Not coming home a few nights a week.”
“You need to end things,” I snap. I’d always questioned Cal’s loyalty. My sister’s intuition is typically spot-on. If she thinks he’s up to no good, he’s likely up to no good.
“Bailey. Please stop.”
I put my hands up in surrender.
“Fine. But listen to your gut, Harp. Get to the bottom of it.”
She looks at me expectantly. “Will you help me spy?”
“What?” I giggle, finding the question absurd coming from Harper.
“I need you to spy on him with me. We can try to break into his Facebook or something.”
As much as I think this is a bad idea, I can’t let her down. I nod in affirmation.
For the rest of the night, there’s no more talk of Cal. We laugh, eat, and talk about everything we’ve missed these past few weeks until my phone beeps, and I look down.
Drew: Get your ass to my place. I need you.
I look up at Harper’s baffled face.
“What’s with the goof-troop grin?”
“Just a friend.” I shrug.
“A guy friend? Spill it.”
“Nope, nothing to spill. It’s Carter. You met him at the diner. Then he kicked you out of the bar,” I remind her, and she grimaces.
“I should get going. Cal wants me to meet him.” She grabs her stuff and makes her way toward the door. Leaning over, she smothers me in an embrace. “Thanks for tonight. I miss you.”
I squeeze her back. “Me too, Harp.”
When I get to Drew’s, I can tell he is tense. “What’s wrong?” I ask, concerned.
“My mother can be very difficult at times.” He rolls his eyes. “Come here,” he says, bringing me to his chest. “You smell like fish.”
I laugh at his tone. It’s cute. “Harper and I had sushi.”
“Harper, eh? Did you tell her about us?”
I stiffen in his embrace. “Tonight wasn’t the right time. She asked me to help her spy on Cal.”
“She’s still marrying the douche?”
I laugh. “Yep. There’s nothing I can do about it. I just have to support her.”
“You don’t have to support your sister making the biggest mistake of her life, Bailey.”
“What am I supposed to do? I don’t have anything on him. She’s spying. If she finds something, she’ll walk.”
He kisses my forehead. “Let’s take a shower.”
He leads me to the bathroom, stripping me along the way. When the warm water hits my skin, I sigh in contentment. Drew takes care of me, washing my hair and massaging my scalp, and I am putty in this man’s hands. For the first time since we’ve been intimate, he doesn’t initiate sex. He simply pampers me. I don’t know what to think, so I don’t. I just enjoy all he offers me.
40
Drew
There are a few hours to spare before I have to meet Bailey at her apartment to pick her up. I decided to give us both a day off today. However, even though I won’t be working, I should probably stop by to check on things and make sure everything is running smoothly. With the new restaurants’ openings looming in the distance, I can’t have anything going awry.
When I walk in the door, it’s still early. The club doesn’t officially open for another hour. But that doesn’t stop it from being crowded. Most of the staff is here already. A private party before the main club opens was booked in the VIP room tonight, so some of the bartenders are here, making sure the bottles and mixers are ready.
When I see Carter, I give a little wave before heading over to the stairs that lead to my office.
Before I hit the landing, though, I hear a noise and giggling from the storage room. Normally, I wouldn’t stop, but I don’t need employees distracted tonight.
Stopping my pace, I turn around and move toward the door, swinging it open.
What I see hits me in the chest.
In front of me is Lauren and Darla. Lauren is kneeling over an extra table that isn’t set on the floor. She’s got a rolled-up dollar bill to her nose.
My hand clenches into a fist, but I take a deep breath before I speak.
They both look up from the table, eyes wide.
“Drew . . .” Lauren starts but then stops, clearly unnerved and not knowing what else to say. She puts down the bill and tries to cover the powdery white mess. “I didn’t think you were coming in today.”
“Clearly.” I look from her to the pile of coke. “Both of you, clean that shit up and then head to the VIP room. I’m holding a mandatory meeting right now.”
Without waiting for either of them to say another word, I walk out the door, stalking to where Carter stands behind the main bar.
“Boss man?”
“I want everyone in the VIP room in five minutes.”
“Um. Okay.”
Needing to get my head under control, I step outside. It’s nearly impossible to push down the thoughts I’m having.
This has gone far enough.
Things need to change, and they need to change now.
After taking a few more calming breaths, I head to the VIP room where I’m met with my whole staff minus Bailey. But that’s okay because she no longer works in the bar.
“First things first . . . and let this be a lesson to everyone here.” I turn toward Darla and Lauren. “You are both fired.”
“But—” Lauren starts to say, and I hold up my hand.
“Don’t give a fuck that you weren’t the one doing blow at the particular minute I walked in. You were next in line. Get your shit and leave.”
Each of the girls’ eyes go wide, but they at least have the decency not to object.
Now that I’m done with that, I turn back to the remaining faces of my employees, and I see the look in Carter’s eyes. He wants to object, or at the very least tell me not to be so hot-headed and let them work their shift tonight. But fuck that.
He knows what today is.
Today is the anniversary of Alexa’s death.
I am not going to allow drugs in my club anymore.
My rules were clear, and now I’m going to enforce them.
“From here on out. No drugs. I know I have said this before, but now I’m going to make myself real clear. If I catch you doing drugs . . .”
A few of the resident druggies don’t look too fazed, and I know why. It’s because even though I have said this over the past few years, I have never done shit about it.
I lock eyes with Carter. This will get my point across. “Zero tolerance. This has been the rule for some time, and I really hope you all fucking listen because starting this week, I will be implementing random drug tests
. It’s your choice if you want to work here. But let me say one thing, this is the hottest club in New York City, so I won’t have a problem replacing you.” I study the crowd one last time before I go to make my departure. “For all your sakes, I hope you didn’t use recently.” And with that, I leave.
It’s a few days later, and I’ve been so busy I haven’t been able to spend time with Bailey. The whole threatening the staff talk just managed to create more work for me. It was necessary, but damn. It’s the last thing I have time for.
While I’ve been playing babysitter and testing the staff, Bailey’s been working her ass off. I have her running around the city, sorting shit for the restaurant. There’s so much to do, and if I’m being honest, I’ve loved watching Bailey step into her role. I’m proud of the way she’s taken charge.
I’m about to head to her place when my phone chimes with a message from Monica, of all people. I groan but stop short when I read her message.
Monica: Fire alarm is going off, and Carter needs you.
Fuck. Her timing is always impeccable. It’s as though she knew damn well I was heading to Bailey’s and is doing her best to cock block.
“Changes of plans,” I tell Stan. “Take me to the club.”
I then fire a text to Bailey, hating to disappoint her.
Me: Something came up at club, and I’m needed there now. Call you later.
It’s not even ten minutes later when I’m pulling up and heading inside.
“Dude, what took you so fucking long?” Carter is behind the bar wiping down bottles.
“I was on my way to Bailey’s. What the fuck is happening here that I had to stand her up?” I’m livid that this shit couldn’t be dealt with without me.
“The fire department came, checked everything out, and shut the alarm off. Some idiot was smoking in the bathroom, and it set off the alarms.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. You called me out here for that? What the hell do I pay you to run the club for?”
Carter throws his hands up in the air. “I didn’t call you, man. I said we could handle it. Monica insisted the alarm company called you and said you insisted on coming. I thought you’d be here way before this, or I would’ve called you and told you not to bother.”
Fucking Monica. She called me and said Carter had instructed her to. My jaw clenches.
“What did they say?”
“Who?”
“The fire department.” It’s taking all my control to rein in my temper—incompetent asshats.
“They fined the club for the smoking. The fine and paperwork are in your office.”
I huff out in frustration and stalk to my office. I’m grabbing this shit and getting back to Bailey. We’re going to forget this entire night once I’m buried inside her.
I throw my office door open and stop dead in my tracks. Sitting on my desk in nothing but thigh highs and fuck-me heels is Monica.
What. The. Fuck?
“Where have you been? I’ve been sitting here waiting forever, lover.” Monica’s whiny voice grates on my already fragile nerves. Once upon a time, this scene would have been enough to make my cock throb. Tonight, I just want her to get the fuck out of my office.
“Monica, get the fuck off my desk and get dressed.” I go to grab her clothes off the floor, and the next thing I know, she has her legs wrapped around my head. I drop to my knees in front of my desk with this skank’s legs literally choking me, her bare skin staring me in the face.
I remove her legs from around my shoulders and stand, lifting her off my desk to save my papers from any more contamination.
“Drew. Play with me.” She runs her long red nails down my arm, and I shudder.
“I’m tired, and this isn’t happening. It’s never happening. Get dressed, leave your key, and get the hell out of my office. I’m done. I tried to fucking be the bigger man because I know you need the money, but I am fucking done. You’re fired. After your shift tonight, I never want to see you again.” I know I should tell her to leave now, but we are seriously short-staffed right now, and I need someone at the bar in VIP.
I go to step back and make for the door when she grabs me and slams her mouth to mine. At the same time I’m registering what the hell is happening, I hear someone gasp behind me. My body locks up. I know that sound. I know all her sounds.
Bailey.
I push Monica back and whirl around to chase after Bailey as she makes her way hastily down the stairs. The club is packed. Even if I did call out her name, she wouldn’t hear me over the commotion. I’m ready to commit murder.
“Get. The. Fuck. Out.” I annunciate each word nice and clear so there is no question as to the seriousness of my words. By the glower on her face, I see that she’s getting the memo.
“I don’t get you, Drew. You used to be so much fun, and now that little bitch has you wrapped around her finger. Lame.”
I throw her dress at her. “Leave the key. After your shift, you come around here again, and I’ll have a restraining order on your ass so fast.”
She pouts the whole time she’s getting dressed. I have my back turned to her, but I’m not leaving this office until I know she’s gone for good. Finally, she pushes past me and flies down the stairs. Once again, she leaves with the key. Fuck. I’ll call the locksmith in the morning. I don’t trust that she hasn’t made copies. She’s that crazy.
I lock up and head out of the club doors to find Bailey. Hopefully, she’s back at her place so we won’t have an unnecessary scene.
41
Bailey
I can’t breathe. I trusted him, and he broke me. I knew he would, but I let him anyway.
Monica wasn’t lying. I’m such an idiot. I shake with the need to escape. A part of me long since buried the cravings to lose myself for the night. But tonight, those cravings call to me.
I crave the euphoric burn only a drink will bring.
I need one shot. Just one. The taste will make everything around me—all the betrayal—fade away. The devil on my right shoulder fights with the angel on my left.
My head shakes back and forth.
No.
I’m not that person anymore. It won’t solve anything to drink. As much as I want it, I’m better than that.
But still . . .
Just one.
I need to forget what I saw, even if only for now. Tomorrow I can move past it, but tonight, I need to forget.
I need a drink. If I can find someone to drink with, maybe I can pace myself.
Lies.
As if I conjured him, Reese appears out of nowhere.
His eyes blink when he sees me. “Chwaer?” There’s a look in his eyes I know too well. He looks lost in his own nightmare too. His pain is palpable, like mine.
“Are you okay?” I ask, realizing the irony that I, of all people, might need to help him forget something.
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “What are you doing?”
“Not a damn thing.” I step closer to him. “I’m having a bad night . . .” I meet his dark gaze. “Honestly, I need to get drunk, and I don’t want to do it alone.” My voice dips with emotions I don’t want to purge in front of him. “Please.” I grab his hand. He’s shaking his head vehemently. “I don’t want to drink alone.”
A line creases his forehead, and his mouth opens. “Not here.” He looks around the space. “This is his place, and I’m not even supposed to be here. One of the bouncers let me in.”
“Trust me when I say, Drew is too busy to care.” Disdain drips from my words. “But just in case you’re still worried, we can drink in the back VIP room. No one will be in there. Certainly not Drew. He never goes in there.”
He contemplates it and then shrugs. “Fine. Lead the way.” He gestures for me to walk first. I start to head toward the private bar in the VIP room.
“Bailey, where are you two going?” Carter’s voice sears through me.
“This isn’t your concern. Leave it alone.”
�
�You shouldn’t be going anywhere with him.” Carter’s voice is hard, but Reese seems nonplused by the whole thing. “Who let you in here?” Carter barks.
“We’re not doing anything wrong. You didn’t see us. Get back to work,” I warn.
“Bailey, please. Listen to me. I’m your friend. You look upset. Let’s go somewhere and talk. Don’t hang out with him. He’s trouble.” I wave him off.
“I’m trouble.” I grab Reese’s hand and take off. “Let’s drink.”
I pull him deeper into the room, away from all prying eyes. We take a few steps, and then we both turn toward the bar that’s in the corner only to find a very smug Monica staring back at me.
Of all the people to be working the VIP room, it has to be her.
She gives me a coy smile before purposely adjusting the top of her dress. Making it very clear what she was just doing and with whom.
A part of me wants to turn around and run out of here, but I refuse to show her that I’m hurting. I refuse to let her know she’s won. A childish, irrational part wants to lose my worries at the bottom of the bottle and leave the aftermath right here for her and Drew to clean up. I want him to know what he caused me to do.
Your choice. Not his.
I brush off the pesky voice of reason and give Monica my own fake smile. Looking her straight in the eyes, I say, “Two shots of tequila. Make them extra chilled.”
She stares at me for a beat, probably wondering what I’m thinking, but instead of waiting for her to speak, I turn to face Reese. “You drink tequila, right?”
“I’ll drink anything,” he answers.
“Good. Then let’s celebrate.”
His eyebrow lifts at my declaration. “And what are we celebrating?”
“New fabulous beginnings, of course.” My voice is loud, and it hits its desired mark when from behind me, where Monica is, I hear her scoff, but I pay her no mind. Instead, I concentrate all my attention on Reese as Monica prepares our drinks.
A few seconds pass before I hear the sound of the shot glasses being set down on the glass bar.
With that, I finally turn to face her. Her lips spread across her face, and now her smile seems wicked. “To new beginnings.” She winks.