He turned to me, slipping his phone into his pocket. "I looked up some clubs in the area, if we want to scout out the competition.”
I shrugged. "Anywhere that has booze and women is fine by me."
Again, he looked at me with pity. I pushed away any guilt I felt and strode to the door.
Ten minutes later, we walked into an Art Deco-themed club.
"I like this," Max said as his eyes scanned the club. I was scanning too, but I was looking for the bar and a willing woman.
"Sort of reminds me of Aunt Bri’s place. Although hers has more of a nineteen-thirties literary vibe. This sort of makes me think of American literary expats in Paris."
I shrugged. “That was all the same era, wasn't it?" I didn't hide the disinterest in my tone. Instead, I sat at the table and waved to a waitress. I ordered a vodka tonic while Max ordered a beer.
"We could do a prohibition-type thing,” Max said. "Although I’m not sure we'd want to do Art Deco, and I’m not sure how we’d incorporate the modern tech aspect."
I shrugged. "How about a noirish, Sam Spade type of thing?" I said. Noir was dark. It fit my mood.
Max cocked his head. "Maybe. Although Sam Spade probably went to a dive bar, don’t you think?"
I shrugged because I really didn't care. A woman who carried the vibe of interest sauntered toward us. Everything about her screamed sex, from her long blonde hair hanging loose to her undoubtedly enhanced tits.
I gave her my signature smile. "You're not here alone, are you?"
"My girlfriends are on the dance floor. You looked lonely, so I decided to come over."
I reached over and pulled a chair out. "I am lonely."
Across from me, Max rolled his eyes.
Ten minutes into our visit, there was no doubt that she was up for a long night of fucking. The only problem was that each time I glanced at her, I saw Kate. I didn’t want a Kate surrogate. I wanted someone who’d make me forget her. So with reluctance, I had to toss the big-busted blonde back into the singles’ pool.
Max took the opportunity to get me out of the bar and headed back to the hotel. He was probably trying to save me from myself.
"Let's just call it a night," he said as we wove through the casino part of the hotel.
I wasn't going to bed by myself. "I’m going to the bar."
Max followed me, sitting down in the booth as I scanned the area for a woman who wouldn't make me think of Kate.
"I don't need a babysitter," I snapped at Max.
"I'm not babysitting."
I glared at him. "You aren’t being a wingman, either."
He shrugged. "I know what you're trying to do, Sam. And while I can't blame you, I can't help but think that if you fuck someone else tonight, it could go spectacularly wrong for you."
The waitress arrived, and I ordered a shot of tequila and a scotch on the rocks.
When she left, I turned to him. "How's that?"
His expression was serious. "Before Kate found the club blueprints—"
"No more talk about Kate. Tonight's about forgetting her."
"Just let me say this, and then I won't say any more. Before she found those blueprints, you seemed to think that you were making headway with her. When you came out to bring us our drinks, I could see in your expression that you were happy and hopeful."
"Yeah, well, now I'm miserable and pessimistic. Kate's gone for me. I've accepted that, and I wish you would too."