Logan laughs. “Did you at least get her number?”
“Hell no. The last thing I need is some innocent girl getting attached to me.”
“True,” Logan agrees. “What did you say her name was?”
“Why?” I ask, suddenly feeling protective over this woman I don’t even know.
“Just asking.” He shrugs nonchalantly.
“She’s off-limits.”
Logan laughs. “I wasn’t planning to go there.”
“Good, don’t. Now, let’s talk about the dirty cop,” I say, switching gears. “How the fuck did you let it get to the point he owes over two hundred grand?”
“He’s a fucking cop, Ethan. I couldn’t say no. Plus, he was good for it.”
“You know better than that shit. You don’t take bets people can’t back up.”
“He made comments, man.”
“Threats?” My ears perk up. Surely, that dirty fucking cop didn’t threaten me or my business.
“He said he would be forced to let the higher-ups know what’s going on downstairs.”
I slam my fist on my desk. “This shouldn’t be the first time I’m hearing about this. Two hundred thousand dollars isn’t chump change, and him not paying up makes me look like a fool.”
“I fucked up,” he admits, “but he had the money. I saw it. I think he’s gambling elsewhere.”
“You got reckless and now we’re going to have to handle this shit. If I let him get away with this, other guys will think they can fuck me over. We’ll go over to his place tomorrow and confront him.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, well, sorry doesn’t get me my fucking money, nor does it stop me from looking like a fucking chump. I don’t give a fuck if it’s the goddamned president. We don’t allow people to bet who can’t pay up. It’s bad for business.”
Logan stands and, without saying another word, walks to the door. As he’s leaving, in walks Carmen. She gives Logan a flirty smile before she closes the door behind her.
She saunters up to me and places herself between my legs and the desk—a woman on a mission. My mind goes to the white dressed angel from earlier. Her innocent eyes and full lips, swollen and pink from our kiss. The way she nervously played with her bottom lip. Holy shit, I need to stop thinking about this woman. Maybe I can fuck her out of my system.
Sighing loudly, I look at Carmen, who is the opposite of Nevaeh in every way, at least on the outside. On the inside, all women are the same. As I rake my gaze down Carmen’s face and body, I wonder what it was I ever saw in her. Her caked on makeup that I used to think was sexy, now looks overdone in comparison to Nevaeh’s natural beauty. The tits I loved to fuck aren’t appealing in the slightest. Nevaeh’s aren’t even half the size of Carmen’s, but I bet hers are perky and would fit perfectly in my palms. Carmen’s short skirt that usually turns me on now looks cheap, like she’s trying too hard. Holy fuck, has this woman broken me?
Before I can think twice, I push my chair back and stand. “It’s not happening, Carmen. I have somewhere I need to be.”
I rush her to the door and down the hall, my eyes searching the club, looking for that sexy little angel. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I need to find her. I go back to where we were just a short time ago, but she’s gone. I stalk toward the dance floor, scanning the area, but I don’t see her. And for the first time in my life, I chase after a woman who, without even meaning to, has brought me to my goddamn knees.
The club closes at four in the morning, and I’m there at the door when the last person walks out.
“You okay, boss?” Kenny, the bouncer who mans the main entrance, asks as I stare out the door. It’s still dark outside, the sun not due to come up for another couple hours.
“Yeah, I was hoping to catch someone before she left.” I walk back to my office and think about how one interaction with Nevaeh affected me so deeply. I should feel relieved I couldn’t find her. What would I even do with a woman like her? According to her ex, she’s a fucking virgin. Relief: that’s the emotion I should feel, but then why is it that all I feel is regret?
Nevaeh
Go to a club
Get drunk
Kiss a stranger
Sitting on the edge of my bed, freshly showered and in my pajamas—I can finally feel my feet again now that I’m out of those crazy heels—I strike through three more items on my list, excited that in one night I experienced not one, not two, but three things. I glance at the list and smile. It’s a list of things I want to do and experience before I die, most of which my mom would have a heart attack and die over if she saw. I created it during a low day, hoping to give me something to look forward to. There are still so many items left on the list, I can’t imagine actually completing it, but I’m determined. Now more than ever.