Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“Barclay,” Lucas shouts over loud background noise. “What you doing, man?”
“Calling you.”
“But not Barbie.” Great. He had to mention her. “She’s been waiting for your call too.”
“Yeah, paying for a date isn’t for me,” I confess, and regret asking Lucas in the first place. Lesson learned.
“So, everything worked out?”
“Not really.” I want to tell him about what happened with Tessa, but he’d probably tell me to run away, like I did, bringing me full circle to the reason I’m talking to him. “Where are you?”
“PH-D at the Dream Hotel. You should come down and join us.”
I hear a woman’s muffled giggle, and ask, “Us?”
“The usual crowd. Lance and Alex from the firm, along with a few hot blondes. Whatta ya say?”
“I don’t know.” I stand up and pace to the window. The setting sun reflects an amber color off the mirrored buildings as night starts to fall.
“You’ve been working too hard, Barc. When was the last time you had fun, or got laid, for that matter?”
When was it? There’s been no one since Amanda and I broke up two months ago. No wonder my nerves feel frayed.
I have two choices, and neither one of them appeal to me. Head back to my apartment, drink too much bourbon, and jack off, like I’ve been doing for too long. The other option is meeting Lucas at the club, and I know what usually happens after a night out with him. I wake up to find a woman in my bed the next morning, but at least it isn’t empty.
I cradle the back of my neck and close my eyes. “Okay, I’ll meet you there. I need to go home and change.”
“Better throw back a few shots before you get here,” Lucas adds with a laugh. “We’re at least three drinks ahead of you.”
Drinks mixed with hot, willing women. This is going to be a big mistake, but I’m not going to sit around by myself tonight. I have an itch that can only be scratched by the touch of a woman’s hand, the feel of her lips, and the softness of her skin. Lucas is right. I need to get laid.
“Don’t worry. I’ll catch up with you lushes.” I grab my jacket off the back of my chair and head out into the night.
18
Tessa
“It’s been over thirty minutes, and he still hasn’t texted me back,” I say to Maggie on the phone. I’m leaning against the headboard in my hotel room with the white comforter surrounding me like a cocoon. “I shouldn’t have listened to you. Now I’ll never hear from him again.”
I pull the phone away from my ear and glance at the screen, double-checking in case a text arrived within the last couple seconds. Nope. There’s been nothing from Barclay since I mentioned my stupid drink date. Big mistake.
“He asked what you were doing tonight for a reason,” Maggie says in her usual, easy-breezy way. “Believe me, he wants you, and probably freaked out that he’s not your date.”
“Remember, he kicked me to the curb.” At least, that’s how it felt yesterday when he drove off and left me standing on the sidewalk. It still stings.
“Then you find chocolate-covered strawberries in your room. He comps all your food at the hotel. Gives you the direct emails of executives to help you find a job,” she rattles off the ways Barclay’s shown he might care for me, but it doesn’t make his goodbye any less painful. “I have good money on him showing up before the weekend’s over. After all, he owns the hotel, along with the keys to the rooms.”
“Like he’s going to just bust in here. Believe me, we’re over before it even started. I know it’s the virgin thing. Different guy. Same scenario.”
“He’s into you and will come around. Please, just trust me, Tessa. You’ll kiss your Prince Charming, but first, you have to meet a frog named Trevor for a drink.”
“He’s more a toad.” I close my eyes and shake my head. I hate having to meet Trevor, especially after Barclay’s warning, but I’m going to keep my word so he’ll stay silent. “Promise you’ll remember to call me at nine o’clock with horrible, date-ending news. I don’t care what you have to make up. I can’t be in that guy’s presence more than thirty minutes, tops.”
“I’ve got your back,” she says, and I pray she does.
We end our call. Now, it’s time to get ready for this stupid drink date. I decide to wear my dark skinny jeans and a cream-colored top with pink lace overlay. It’s sleeveless with spaghetti straps. The bodice cuts across my breasts, showing a non-slutty amount of cleavage, and the hem flows free around my waist. I slip on a pair of nude strappy heeled sandals to complete the look.
I wore subtle makeup for job-hunting today, so I need to up my game for the evening. I apply some muted brown eye shadow for depth, and swipe on a little blush for a healthy pink glow. Next, I comb through my hair with my fingers, then give myself a once over in the bathroom mirror.