“Oh, yes! You were the topic of conversation for a while that evening.”
“Really?”
“Yes, my friends said I was lazy for not running after you. I told them I was just being practical, and I’d look like a maniac if I started to run after you.”
“Considering I had already been through an episode of thinking a man was chasing me, it wouldn’t have served you well to think I was being chased again.”
I laughed. He laughed. There was an undeniable connection that I couldn’t wait to explore more. If Emma was going to ditch me for this dude from the dance floor, I was going to make the most of my night and at least enjoy some dancing.
“So you are friends with the redhead?” the man asked me.
There was a constant smile at the edge of his eyes. It mesmerized me, and I couldn’t stop staring at his eyes. This guy was handsome, well dressed, and charming. So far I figured I couldn’t lose if I just had a conversation with him. His green eyes were much brighter than mine, and I felt lost in them as I looked up to him.
He was tall, probably a few inches taller than most men I knew. His sandy blond hair looking light brown at times too, and I had this undeniable urge to run my fingers through it.
“Yep, she’s my friend. Sorry she yelled at your friend the other night.”
“Oh, don’t be sorry. He deserved it I’m sure of it.”
“Ah, well okay then.”
“We have to go,” a young man dressed sharply in a designer suit said as he quickly approached the guy I was talking to. “Dean is already at the car. There are paparazzi all over, and we need to go with him. He is going to get himself in trouble. Grab Merrick and meet us out back,” the man said.
“Go ahead; I’ll see you later,” the tall, handsome man said as he looked at me and tried to get rid of his friend.
It was clear that the man I was talking to did not want to leave at that moment, he turned toward his friends and then back toward me. He wanted to stay there with me.
I felt his desire for me. The sexual attraction between the two of us was palpable, and at that moment, I truly felt what it must be like for women who decided they were willing to have one-night stands. If they felt even half as much attraction as I felt with this man, it was totally understandable to want to be naked with the guy.
“We need to go now. There was an incident. You don’t want to be here when it gets out. I’m sure the police are going to come, and it’s going to be one big disaster. Let’s just go.”
“I’m sorry. Here’s my card; call me please,” he said as he handed me a card while his friend pulled him away. “I’ll be waiting to hear from you.”
I grabbed his card and felt the luxuriously soft material as I put it into my clutch as I watched the very tall, light haired delicious looking man walk out of my sights. As the distance between us grew more, my desire for him lessened, and I was finally able to look back on the dance floor to find Emma.
“What was that?” I scolded her.
“He was really hot; I had to give him a chance.”
“You were the one who said he was a jerk,” I reminded her.
“Sometimes I’m hard on guys. It’s not horrible to give a guy a second chance. I know I would want one if I had done something bad.”
As always, Emma was a walking contradiction. I decided not to tell her about my little encounter with her rude dude’s friend. It was too early in the process to know if he was going to even be worth talking to. But my guy certainly had a better way of communicating with women.
We stayed at the club much later than usual since many of the people started to thin out after Dean and his friends left. It was back to our normal hangout spot by one in the morning, and we ended up dancing for a few more hours after that. It was much more fun to dance there when all the annoying people left for the evening.
Finally, in a state of total exhaustion, we managed to get ourselves out of the club and into a cab. We crashed at my house since it was the closest to the club, and neither of us said a word as we downed a couple of aspirin and drank our orange juice before falling into my oversized bed and sleeping off the alcohol that was buzzing through my system.
When the spinning from the alcohol started to calm down, I found myself thinking about the man who I had touched at the bar. I had officially touched him twice now and felt an amazing spark between us, yet I didn’t know his name. How could I have met him twice and still not know his name? It felt like a little bit of a defeat for me, and I needed to know his name at least.
Quickly, I jumped up and grabbed my purse to find his card. I was tired and didn’t feel all that well. I was very close to vomiting, and all I could think about was that I needed to know his name. It was the late in the night, and all my brain wanted to do was think about this guy, so I at least needed to know his name.
I needed a name to go with his dreamy green eyes as I thought about him while I drifted off to sleep. I needed to know his name so I could say it over in my head as I imagined getting up the nerve to call him. My heart pounded and my hands shook as I tried desperately to find his card.
I scoured my clutch for the card and then emptied the entire thing onto my kitchen table as I desperately tried to find his name. I wasn’t going to call him in the middle of the night. I didn’t even care what it was he did for a job. All I wanted was to know his name. Just his first name; I didn’t even need to know his last name.
It wasn’t in there.
The card was gone.
I sat down at the table and rested my head in my hands as I tried to think about the moment when he handed me his card. I was certain I had slipped it into my clutch. I played the moment over again and felt my hand slide down my purse, but I didn’t remember opening my clutch. Was it possible I had literally just let his card slide down the side of my purse and right onto the floor?
I felt sick.
I barely made it to the bathroom when all the alcohol I had consumed exited my body, or at least whatever was left in there. I had literally just lost the opportunity to go on a date with a guy that I had electricity with. A man who I actually felt a physical connection with and that the connection had been so strong it drove us together. In my own drunken stupor, I had just lost my chance with what I imagined was a really good man.
I couldn’t move from my spot by the toilet as my mind searched through possible options. I could call the club and have them look for it. Certainly, there couldn’t be that many business cards on the floor of a dance club. Or better yet, I could go back there in the morning with Emma, and we could get Bruce to meet us, and we would just look for ourselves.
Somewhere between thinking about how I could find this guy’s business card and vomiting in my toilet, I drifted off to sleep right there on the bathroom floor. My mind filled with romantic possibilities of what it would be like to date a man like the one I had met at the club that night. His bright green eyes stuck in my mind while I envisioned my fictional life of happiness. Yet I didn’t know his name, where he worked, or any other way of getting hold of him. I had met the perfect man, but wouldn’t be able to meet him again. I was devastated.
Chapter 9
Wyatt
I watched her on the dance floor with her red-haired friend. I knew who she was the second I saw her, although I pretended not to remember her when she came over to me. Her ass was tightly held into her jeans, and I felt my body as I lusted after her. She had class, and I liked that. This girl wasn’t dressed slutty like so many other women in the club; she was dressed comfortably and sexy with a green sweater that hugged all her curves in just the right places.
Over the years, I had grown accustomed to sizing up women at clubs and bars. There was a special skill to deciding how you would approach a woman, and I was very good at this skill. This blonde haired beauty wasn’t going to be won over by brashness or crude remarks. She also wasn’t going to be won over by lavish displays of money; this one was going to want to talk. I loved that kind of girl. T
hey were much harder to find than one might think but worth pursuing once I identified them.
There were a time and place for any type of woman in my life. I had gone home with all sorts of women, but my favorites were the ones I had a real connection with. Even if it was just for a night, a connection made everything more intense. This girl mesmerized me, and the fact that I had now seen her three times and still didn’t know her name was a record.
The way her curves filled out her green sweater still stuck in my mind as I made my way home from the club with the guys. I should have gotten her number, though. It was pretentious of me to hand her my card and expect she would call me. It was entirely possible she had already ripped up my business card and was laughing with her friend about the insincerity of the situation.
“What did you do Dean? How on earth did you get yourself into trouble in a club filled with your admirers,” I asked.
“A joker decided to start mocking me while I was talking to a woman. I can’t just sit back and take that crap.”
Dean was an artist; I knew that about him and was still his friend. But he certainly couldn’t control his emotions, and I suspected his inability to control himself might be one of the reasons he wasn’t getting more movie parts. Movie executives didn’t care how old he was. Sure, he was older than the normal young leading man, but stars like Tom Cruise had been holding films long into their 50s without an issue. Dean was just as handsome and charismatic as those other celebrities, but he was harder to control because of his emotional outbursts.
“You ignore it, Dean. You’re famous; you can’t just give in to any old heckler,” Luke added. “You are better than those guys and that behavior. If you want to get back on top, you can’t be seen acting like that.”
“I can’t ignore that crap.”
And right there was why Dean Morrison was really on Broadway now and not doing films. His agents could have gotten him back into films. He probably would have played a little older hero than he had been playing before; perhaps he would have even had to play the evil character in films. But in the end, it was Dean’s own ego that kept him from the things he wanted in life. His managers that stole all his money could have been prosecuted. It would have been a public disaster, yet they could have actually had to pay for their crimes. Instead, Dean let them run off with it because he didn’t want to make a bigger scene than was already going on. He wanted the scandal to die down and hoped he could get back to work; his ego got in his way.
I couldn’t continue arguing with Dean about the right way to handle his fame. Obviously, I wasn’t famous, and I was just speculating on what might work for him in his situation. As his friend, I supported him; I just wished I could have supported him after getting the hot blonde’s phone number and name.
“Has the app given you any other instructions?” Ren asked just before our vehicle pulled up to his house.
Actually, I had totally forgotten about the app all night long. There had been dozens of women coming up to me and flirting, but none stood out as anything unusual. Nothing about the evening had seemed out of place from what I would expect at a dance club like that.
I pulled my phone out to see if there were any directions that I missed. I was nervous that I had missed something, and Ren’s ridiculous theory about the app might actually be true. But I planned to just follow what it asked of me for the next few days. So far the app hadn’t been outrageous at all, and I didn’t see a reason to delete it. Actually, I had a lot of fun at Sin that night, and I wouldn’t have gone there without the app suggesting it; so for me, the game seemed to be playing out well.
“Nope,” I said as I pulled the app up, and it still had the message about going to Sin.
“Anything weird happen at the club tonight? Any women who stood out?”
I had to laugh. Hell yeah, there were women that stood out, about a dozen of them. That club had been filled with young beautiful women, and they were all dancing and flirting with me. But they were also dancing and flirting with Dean, Luke, Merrick, and Ren. I hadn’t noticed a woman who specifically sought me out to flirt with me. The only one I had really enjoyed talking to hadn’t even been looking to talk to me at all; she had simply been pushed out of dancing with her friend and found her way to the side of the dance floor.
“No, it was a normal night.”
“What about that girl who you were talking to when we left?”
“No, she’s friends with a girl Merrick was dancing with. I just went to talk to her after Merrick tried getting her friend worked up.”
“Ahh, well let me know if it asks you to do anything weird. Talk to you later.” Ren jumped out at his apartment.
“Merrick, what was up with that redhead?” I got the chance to ask finally.
“Man she’s a firecracker. Lots of fun. She wouldn’t give me her number, though.”
“She didn’t? Now that’s funny!” Luke and I both said.
It was unusual that Merrick had a woman he liked, and she wasn’t reciprocating. Merrick was used to getting what he wanted, so it was fun to watch him get frustrated when what he wanted didn’t want him back.
After everyone was dropped off, I had the driver drop me at my house. It had been a long night, and we had all collectively decided that we weren’t going to have our investment club meeting the next day. It was better for us to have spent the evening getting comfortable with our group again. We had over a half of a million dollars invested together; the club was a great starting point for people, and I didn’t want to let that down. My hope was that we would all be able to start recruiting some more and then build the club up into a strong network in the industry.
Being friends with other investors meant that you were able to find out information long before you normally would. Not insider information or illegal information, simply the detailed information about companies that you didn’t have time to follow. My goal for the group was to have them helping me build my investment fund into one of the most successful in the industry.
The Triple T Investing Club was my baby, and I had so many plans for growing it and using it to become a better investor. I might even decide to branch off and start my own company someday if I was able to be successful enough in managing my investment fund.
I looked over at my clock after taking a shower and readying myself for bed. It was nearly five in the morning. Much later than I liked to stay up, even on a night of partying, but just as I closed my eyes the ping of my phone alerted me that the Date Tonight app had a message for me.
My heart raced at what it might have to say. Slowly, I used my fingerprint to unlock my phone, and I read the message as it appeared. This was how the app got people addicted to it. I had the rush of adrenaline like you would get in a casino or something like that. What would the app have to say next? Where would I have to go in search of my perfect match? It was all very exciting, and I couldn’t wait to see what the game was going to do next.
---Go workout at Fitness Force this morning.---
Go workout? That was crap! I had just gotten home. At that moment, I instantly understood why Ren had not followed all the directions the app had given him. I was tired, beyond my normal level of tired, and I felt my body slipping into sleep even as I lay there looking at my phone. I didn’t want to work out. Nothing about this demand was a good idea for me. I had been up all night long, and I could hardly see because of the amount of alcohol I had consumed. I wanted to sleep.
Slowly, I rolled my feet out of bed and put my workout clothes on, though. It was better to go show up at the gym and follow the app than it was to try and sleep and wonder if what Ren had said was going to happen to me. I would simply go to the gym, workout for a few minutes and leave.
Of course, I’d keep my eyes peeled for a woman who I thought fit the description of Dakota, but even that description was fading in my mind since I hadn’t been able to look at her profile in days. I desperately wished the app would just show me a picture, so I knew who I was looking for. I
t was impossible to try and find a specific woman when I didn’t know what she looked like. I was starting to think the app expected me just to start talking to random women when I went to these locations.
She had blonde hair; I remembered that. But how tall was she? What type of figure did she have? My memory was fuzzy, but I thought it said she was short with an athletic frame. I’d keep my eyes out for a woman like that. But maybe she had been tall with a thin frame? I had no idea at all.
The body type of a woman was something many men I knew fixated on. They always wanted a slim woman with big tits; that was their thing. But I knew women were beautiful in so many different sizes. I had met women who I had a great time with and didn’t think at all about the size of their thighs. To me, it was much more about who they were and if we laughed together. Laughing with a woman was one of my favorite things to do with her; with and without our clothes on.
I had visited Fitness Force Gym on a few occasions. It was near the financial district and had an account with my firm, so I could use it when I wanted to. But it was farther away from my house than I liked, so I had a different gym that I used more often.
My eyes were barely open as I flashed my work ID card and went into the gym. To my surprise, there were plenty of people working out, even at six in the morning on a weekend. I couldn’t imagine what their lives were like and how working out at that time on a weekend even made sense to them. But I climbed onto a treadmill and looked around the club as I started to jog.
There were a couple of women in the club, but none were even blonde. It didn’t look promising for me, but I had pledged to myself that I would run for twenty minutes and then I would head back home and go to sleep. I kept my eyes peeled throughout the club and the front entrance for anyone that I thought might possibly meet the description of the woman I had matched up with. Dakota had been her name. Despite forgetting some of the details about her appearance, I remembered her name, and that was how I would tell who she was when I finally met her. Or at least, that was all I could think of as a way to be sure unless I just came out and asked the woman if she was on the Date Tonight app.
His Huge Rock Page 9