Chapter 14
While Sarah didn’t have anyone she would call a “friend” in New York, she saw a plethora of familiar faces when she stepped into the club Saturday night.
Staff, like the bartender who knew exactly what she liked and the bouncers who always kept an eye on her, nodded or heaved a sigh of relief that some sort of party had arrived.
A few locals who frequented the place as often as she did waved before going back to their conversations.
A Spanish shipping magnate gave her a knowing look as she walked by to pick up her drink.
The woman did not touch or speak to her, but her presence was discernible.
Thinking about the good times, Paloma? Eh, she was an all right lover.
Self-absorbed, involved, not about to put her mouth where Sarah’s went…
“Anything wild happening tonight?” Sarah asked the bartender. Her blond wig threatened to get into her drink, and considering the amount of grenadine in it? Gross. Sarah tossed the fake blond locks over her shoulder, enticing Paloma even more.
“There’s a business meeting going on in the back. They’ll let you in, I’m sure. Just don’t hold your breath regarding the pickings. A lot of closed-group swingers here tonight.”
Maybe that’s what I need to not think about Luca for a night.
Perhaps tonight would be an excellent night for finding a frisky couple looking to spice up their marriage.
When was the last time she got involved in a threesome?
Five months ago? As long as Ms. Blackbourne was out of her brain by the end of the night, she didn’t care who she fooled around with.
Well, maybe I’ll pass on Paloma tonight.
“Thanks.” Sarah grabbed her drink and headed deeper into the club.
She found some prime real estate within twenty seconds. Three young, handsome, and well-dressed men crowded around a table and laughed at some end-of-the-week joke. At least one of them had to be game for some fun with a strange woman that night. Maybe two of them.
“Gentlemen,” she interrupted with a slight sway of her hips. “Can I interest any of you in another drink? I’ll be more than happy to go get it for you and bring it back. Maybe with one less article of clothing, if I think you’re cute.”
The three men were more than happy to accept a beautiful woman into their midst. At first. But, as Sarah discovered, they soon declined her offer to get them drinks and join them in their after-business celebrations.
The leader of the group politely brushed her off by suggesting another group of young rabble-rousers might enjoy her company instead.
Except the next pair likewise took one look at her and turned around again. A man and his younger wife looked her up and down before passing on her as well. Sarah huffed her way deeper into the club, where the guests might be more likely to give up some time.
They certainly took longer to turn her down.
Some of them would engage in conversation long enough to catch her face in the light, only to pale in sickly shock and find some excuse to get away from her.
Others pretended to be interested in her only to disappear into the bathroom, never to be seen again.
One woman flat-out told Sarah to stay away from her, because “she didn’t want any trouble. ”
Did Sarah have some undesirable sign hung around her neck? Had she developed a pox on the train? Was she bleeding from her eye sockets? Did the Angel of Death haunt her steps?
She didn’t get an answer until she went back to the front of the club, where the well-lit bar welcomed her to sit down and have a drink.
How unfair was this? Here she was, ready to party and move on from some asshole who had consistently lied to her – and dared to pry into some of the most personal matters a woman carried in her heart.
Angel was here to let go on Sarah’s behalf.
To release the pent-up frustrations consuming her ever since Luca walked into her life.
Why did I ever sleep with her? I should have left well enough alone the last time I was here.
Sarah folded her arms on the bar and buried her face in their depths.
Her wig was more than happy to choke her.
She needed it.
“Excuse me, Miss. Care to have another drink, this time with me?”
The man was young and unfamiliar. Well, maybe Sarah had seen him around before, but she couldn’t for the life of her remember him.
He had the face of an intern, but to be here by himself, he must have been an heir or a new, rich blood of means.
Either way, he couldn’t have been much younger than Sarah.
God, who cared anymore? This night was shot enough as it was. Sarah better cling to whatever she could get.
“Sure,” she said with a quick flip of the hair. Time to turn the charm back on and stop feeling sorry for herself. If she blew this like a quick-tempered hurricane, she’d regret it. “I’m having a martini.”
“So I see.” The man nodded to the bartender and ordered Sarah another martini. For himself, he asked for a whisky highball, no wedge. The drinks were there moments before Sarah batted her eyelashes and cranked up her fervent seduction.
“What brings you here, stranger?” Her shoulder grazed against his. “It’s been a slow night around here. About time the wind blew someone in.”
“Honestly?” the man grinned over the rim of his glass. “I’m looking for a good time.”
“As it so happens, so am I.”
Finally. Sarah was starting to wonder if she lost her touch when it came to getting anyone into bed. Or into a private room. Whichever.
She fully intended to walk into the office Monday morning, look into Luca’s lying eyes, and comment flippantly on her activities that weekend.
The least she could do was make Luca jealous before stepping on her toes to drive home the point that they were never, ever going to be a “thing” again.
(Not that they were much of one to begin with, mind!)
Oh, Sarah had so many intentions. So did this guy, who clearly arrived too late to receive the same message everyone else in the club had when it came to Sarah making the rounds.
Because once she glanced in his direction again, intent on turning up the seduction a few more notches to make this happen as quickly as possible, a firm hand slammed down between them.
Sarah leaped back, almost landing on the empty stool behind her. Her prince of the evening likewise widened his eyes and gaped up at the large, overbearing woman interrupting their tryst at the club bar.
The thing Sarah hated the most? How her heart fluttered when she recognized Luca’s aura before her face.
“You have no idea what you’re getting into here, kid,” Luca said, never once taking her blue eyes off Sarah’s shocked face. “This woman is nothing but trouble.”
“Um…”
Luca barely glanced at the younger man before moving to sit on him. The guy took the hint. Within two more seconds, Sarah’s would-be prince scrambled off the stool and took his chances elsewhere.
Sarah wanted to say something. Anything.
Yell at her. Scream in her face. Tell her to mind her own fucking business for once in her God thrice-damned life.
But she was too busy making sense of the evening to immediately lash out at Luca.
Ah, yes, there was her bodyguard now, hovering a few paces behind them, keeping watch over the increasingly drunk patrons.
She didn’t… she did, didn’t she? Sarah didn’t have to ask what was going on to realize Luca had sent word for nobody to mess with her woman.
That’s why everyone was willing to talk to her until they recognized her.
“That’s Blackbourne’s girl,” the room practically screamed.
“Touch her, and she’ll kick your ass. You don’t mess with her woman, no matter how much she makes you think she wants you. Maybe she does, but you don’t dare.”
So, she did have a sign hanging over her head. A sign that said, “Property of Luca Blackbourne. Touch only if you want to lose your life.”
Sarah swallowed the rage building in her throat. “The fuck are you doing here?”
Luca leaned against the counter, her bespoke suit fitting so well on her body that Sarah would become enthralled if she didn’t watch herself.
Remember, we hate this woman. Easy enough to think when she wasn’t in the room with her.
But when Luca Blackbourne put up that protective shield around them, the only thing Sarah could think about was how much she wanted to curl up in her arms and listen to her heartbeat in her chest.
No. She was a liar. A cheater. The type of person Sarah wanted to stay far away from, outside of one-night stands she refused to regret.
“I should ask you the same thing.” Her voice was obnoxiously soft. It was the kind of tone Nigel would take with her, not the voice of a woman who wanted to bang her brains out. “What are you doing, Sarah?”
“None of your damn business. Leave me the hell alone.”
The bartender approached to ask if Luca wanted something to drink.
She shook her head so curtly that the woman had no choice but to retreat to the other side of the bar for the remainder of the private conversation.
“I’m in town because of you. I heard you were heading up this way and knew you were coming here to make mistakes. ”
“So what if I am?” Sarah snapped. “I’m not yours. I do as I please.”
“You sure do, Angel.”
Luca was fucking with her, wasn’t she? She would.
She recognized Sarah in her Angel persona.
Knew what it meant, what she intended. She was dressed to kill and looking for hot sex.
Not with her, no. She didn’t get this anymore.
She lost the privilege of hooking up with Sarah or Angel when she tried to get into her head instead of her body.
I can’t forget her standing there, practically naked, saying she was sorry.
What kind of narcissist pulled that bullshit?
A woman named Luca Blackbourne, that was who.
“Don’t call me that.”