Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
Gwendolyn
I plopped down on a high-top chair, swinging my legs back and forth, since they dangled—too short to reach either the floor or the bar between the chair legs. I’d have to scoot right to the edge of the seat to manage that.
After taking a sip of my fourth raspberry vodka, I glanced around the new bar we’d just arrived at. It was packed, the music loud and pulsing. I looked over at Stasia as she took a swig of her Jack and Coke. I had no idea how she could stomach that stuff—it tasted like gasoline to me.
She was rocking a red tube top, showing off the gorgeous tattoo across her upper back, and had paired it with classic black jeans. Her straightened deep-black hair fell over her shoulders. She looked stunning. Honestly, I’d probably date her if I swung that way.
Usually, if I could get away with it, I’d live in tracksuit pants or jeggings and a tee. But my friend had talked me into wearing the only dress I’d brought—a white A-line. At least it somewhat flattered my plump figure, and I’d tamed my curly red hair, leaving it down to frame my face.
It was our third night in Vegas, and we’d had a blast shopping, clubbing, gambling, and treating ourselves to ridiculous splurges. If I didn’t need to get back to my family, I’d suggest we stay another week.
Even the short calls with a grumpy Malice hadn’t dampened our fun.
But as of tomorrow, we’d be driving back to reality—hopefully without a hangover.
Raising my glass, I smiled and said, “Happy thirtieth birthday, girl.”
Clinking her drink to mine, she cheered. “Fuck yeah, happy birthday to me.”
We laughed and downed the rest of our drinks.
The warm buzz left a rosy tint to Stasia’s cheeks, and there was no doubt mine were the same.
Even my brain seemed a little fuzzy. Two shots were placed in front of us.
I looked up and met the bartender’s stare.
He dipped his head toward the end of the bar.
“The gentleman down the end wanted to buy you two lovely ladies a shot.” He met Stasia’s eyes. “For your birthday.”
A man who seemed to be in his late forties smiled our way and tipped his drink up at us with what was clearly an attempt at a flirty smirk on his lips. Instead, unease crawled over my skin.
Stasia must have felt the same way, since she said, “Tell him thanks, we appreciate the gesture, but we’re having a girls’ night. Not looking for company.”
He winked. “You got it.”
Stasia turned her back on the guy at the end, but I watched him receive the news and how his smirk slipped. He glared our way before walking off.
We’d read him right.
“He left,” I told her.
“Though, he wasn’t bad-looking,” Stasia commented. “And no one else has bought us drinks.”
“Just because we’re not finding any action from the opposite sex doesn’t mean we need to give it up for the smallest bit of attention.”
She groaned. “I know, but hell, girl, my cooch could use some attention.”
Snorting, I shook my head. “I know the feeling.”
And there went my mind, flashing up an image of Malice.
The picture was from one I’d found online when he’d first opened his club. He’d had a gorgeous woman on his arm.
Were they still dating?
Nothing I’d searched showed that he was in a relationship.
Did an employee ask her boss if he was doing the horizontal tango with someone?
No, she didn’t.
That would just scream a clue for him about my mini crush.
That could never happen.
It was ridiculous, and I should take my own advice, like what I’d just told Stasia, when it came to men paying me attention.
Maybe I should sign up to some dating sites. Then Malice wouldn’t be the main male in my life.
Yet, thinking of that man had me reaching for the non-traceable phone in my dress pocket. It wasn’t there, I must have left it in the room.
Oops.
Hopefully he wasn’t calling about a job that suddenly popped up.
If he was, I’d deal with it when we were done enjoying ourselves.
I gasped, straightening when my gaze landed on the stage across the room. I reached out and shook Stasia.
“What?”
I pointed over to what had caught my attention.
Her gaze widened, and she grinned like a cat that got the cream.
Together, we shouted, “Karaoke!”
We sucked back our gifted drinks, not wanting to waste then, and walked over to the stage, where an older woman currently belted out a Tina Turner song.
We put our names down on the list and flicked through the song choices.
Of course we’d do a duet. We tortured my siblings with them when we played a singing game at home.
Felix regularly rolled his eyes and cringed.
He thought he was too old to play games with us oldies, but I always caught him smiling by the time we reached the chorus.
Since it wasn’t too busy, we got to our turn quickly and sang, mostly offkey, “I Got You, Babe.”
But we did so with huge smiles on our faces.
We managed to have a few more rounds of singing before it was somebody else’s turn. Luckily, there’d be other opportunities for us to sing some more, since it was only near eleven.
As we walked off the stage, Stasia hooked her arm through mine. “Bitch, do you know what we need?” I waited for her to yell, “More shots.”
“Hell yeah.” I nodded to a table. “You grab that before someone else does, and I’ll go get some. You want another Jack and Coke too?”
“Yes, please. Love you, girl.”
The two bartenders were already busy, so I bopped my head to the music while I waited, refusing to let my mind wander—
My gaze snagged on a man in a suit.
Malice always wore a suit. I hadn’t seen a photo of him in anything but his immaculate—likely expensive—clothes. Did the man even own a pair of tracksuit pants?
Shit.
I wasn’t supposed to be thinking of him.
Sighing, I groaned and dropped my head into my hands, then winced. That wasn’t a good idea. I pulled hands away from my face. They were sticky from the alcohol, and there was probably a billion germs on them from the microphone.
“Ew,” I muttered.
A chuckle sounded in front of me, and a barman held out a wet paper towel.
“Thanks.” I smiled. I quickly wiped my face and hands.
“What can I get you?” he asked.
“A new brain?” I asked.
He grinned. “Sorry, I only do brain transplants on Tuesdays.”
“Damn. Can I have two shots of Alabama slammer? A bourbon and Coke, plus a vodka and raspberry.”
“As long as I can grab your number?”
Oh my God.
My face heated. “I’m only in town for the night.”
He smirked. “What time is checkout?”
“Eleven.”
“I finish work at four this morning, I could drop by your hotel….”
Holy flying ducks. He wanted to get down and dirty with me. Nerves fluttered my stomach at the thought of an early-morning naked dance to get my day started.
Could I do that?
Did I want to?
What would Malice think?
No. It didn’t matter what he thought. Besides, he didn’t need to know, and he was only my boss.
“Um, yes?” I nodded. “Okay.”
“Dylan,” he supplied.
“I’m Gwen.” I gave him my burner phone number and told him to call me when he was done with his shift. I’d be back in the hotel room by then to answer.
Unless I chickened out.
I didn’t want to, and I needed a quick clean-out, since it’d been so long.
God, that made my vagina sound like it was a dirty, dank cave to be conquered.
“Perfect. I’ll grab those drinks for you.”
I nodded mutely, stunned this had actually happened to me. It never had before. The last hookup I had was six years ago, and I’d known the guy for a while, since he’d worked at my favorite coffee place.
Dammit, it was Stasia’s birthday. She was the one who should have the naked dance with someone. Though, maybe he had a friend. I’d ask her if she wanted me to talk to him.
After I got the drinks, which Dylan set on a tray for me, I carefully walked them over to the table.
“You won’t believe it,” I told Stasia.
“What?” she asked, placing down her phone and picking up her shot.
“Dylan, the bar guy, told me he’s getting off work at four and would like to meet me at my hotel.”
“Fuck off,” she yelled with glee.
“Shh.” I glanced back to see Dylan watching us with a grin. Turning away as my face heated, I told her, “Keep your cool. I could ask if he has a friend?” I offered.
“Thanks, but no thanks. In the short amount of time that you were at the bar, I’ve concluded I want someone serious. Someone nerdy who’ll treat me like a princess and doesn’t have any tattoos or piercings and wouldn’t know how to live dangerously.”
“So,” I drew out. “A golden-retriever type of guy?”
She laughed. “Exactly. And while I wait for my nerdy prince charming, who will worship me, I have my trusty vibrator that’ll keep me happy.” She held up her shot glass. “To barmen and vibrators.”
Grinning, I clinked my shot against hers. “To barmen and vibrators.”
We swallowed them down, only coughing a little, before taking a swig of our other drinks.
“Guess it’s good we got separate rooms,” I told her.
She snorted. “Only because you sleep like the dead and snore.” She glared. “You know I’m a light sleeper, Gwen.”
Rolling my eyes, I grinned. “Relax, I’m only teasing. I know you are. And how anally retentive about your space you can be.” I shrugged. “You like things tidy, while I’m more like a pig in its pen with shit everywhere.”
She nodded, smirking. “Exactly.”
“We know each other too well.”
“Then stop asking me to check bumps on your ass, and we’ll be fine.”
“Ha, that was one time, bitch.”
A new person took the stage, and her voice was like an angel’s. We soon became mesmerized as we drank our drinks while watching.
When the song ended, we stood and clapped.
“Go, girl,” Stasia shouted. The woman took a bow.
It was then that my personal phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it free as I sat back down.
Amelia.
I scrunched my brows. She wouldn’t call unless it was an—
“Gwen?” Stasia asked.
Shaking my head, I hit Answer and placed the phone against my ear. “Amelia? Everything okay?”