by Ava Harrison
I lean forward and place my head gently on his heart that’s in the right place. “Thank you.” I want to erase the pain, so I turn my head up and place a gentle kiss on his lips. He responds eagerly, his tongue begging for entrance. I give in to his demanding kiss, wanting to help him chase away the ghosts of the past. I understand too much. I’ve lost people too.
Pulling away, he buries his face into my neck, tickling me gently with his lips. “Enough of this heavy shit. I’m starving. Get dressed. I’m taking you out.”
My eyes widen and my mouth hangs open. “Um, like on a—”
“Like for lunch, Bailey.”
“Lunch?” I pucker my lips at him. Is he asking me out?
“You know the meal after breakfast but before dinner?”
God, I sound dumb. “Oh, okay.”
Drew leans forward and brushes a gentle kiss on my lips. “Yes, Bailey. Like a date.”
I can’t help the smile that forms. A date with Drew Lawson? I walk into my bedroom and peer at myself in the mirror. I’m a mess. My eyes are sunken, and my hair looks like a bird’s nest sitting on the top of my head. Fuck, what the hell am I wearing? I can’t believe he saw me like this. I can’t go in public with him looking like this.
“Drew?” I shout through the walls.
“Yeah?”
“Where are we going?” I want to ask what I should wear, but that just seems pathetic.
“There’s a great little sushi restaurant I know a few blocks away. How about we go there?”
“Okay.”
I rummage through my closet. Pulling out a white cotton eyelet dress, I quickly undress and slip it on, then head into the bathroom and attempt to apply makeup and brush my hair.
Fifteen minutes later, I step out of the bathroom a new woman. The look in Drew’s eyes sends a shiver down my body. I can clearly see his hunger from across the room.
“Okay, you want to eat?” I say, grabbing my purse off the side table next to where he’s now standing. His eyes roam up and down my body, and his lips turn up slightly. It pulls more on the right side and causes a small dimple to form. The look he’s giving me makes me melt.
“You have no idea,” he states in a silky voice that causes my knees to buckle.
The sexual innuendo isn’t lost on me. Desire pools in my stomach as I try to regulate my breathing. He steps forward and clasps our hands together, then pulls me closer to him.
His breath fans my neck as he whispers into my ear, “After lunch . . .” He pauses, and his tongue trails down the curve of my neck. “You’re dessert.”
Yes, please.
I wish we didn’t have to eat at all. Being here with him in my apartment is surreal. It’s crazy and strange and I want to stay in this private bubble a little longer. I take a step away from him because if I don’t, we’ll never leave.
Maybe that’s a good thing.
My face heats as I remember him going down on me in the bar and bending me over his desk and—goddammit, Drew notices because his eyes narrow and his dimple shows again.
“What are you thinking about over there?” He smirks.
“I’m not about to contribute to your already enlarged ego, Mr. Lawson. So I’ll just say that you know how to please a lady.” I giggle at the word lady.
“Lady, huh? Well, I think we should skip lunch and give it another go. We’ll see just how much of a lady you are.” There is mischief in his eyes.
“Wh-what are you doing? Drew Lawson, don’t come any closer. Lunch. You said we need to eat lunch.” His grin is ear to ear.
“Fuck lunch.” His eyes smolder.
The next thing I know, he has me up over his shoulders and carries me to the bed. He sets me down, tickling my sides.
“Stop. Oh my god, Drew. Stop!” I screech.
“Say please,” he taunts.
“Never.”
“Say please, Bailey, or we’ll be doing this all day.”
“Okay, please. Please! I’m begging.” My side hurts from laughing.
When he finally stops, he’s laughing so hard he’s holding his side. He looks so young and carefree at this moment. He leans down, capturing my lips in a searing kiss.
But this kiss is different. There is a level of passion behind it that has never been there before. It has me questioning if he could be feeling what I’m feeling.
His hands cup my cheeks. Pulling away, he stares into my eyes before running his hand through my hair.
“I want you, Bailey,” he whispers.
“Take me then.”
He bends down once more, kissing me softly. “I promised you a date, and you deserve that. I want you to know that this is turning into more for me.” His eyes penetrate my soul. “It’s not just about sex.”
I melt at his words. “It’s more to me too.” My words come out shy and vulnerable. He smiles.
“Let’s go eat.”
31
Drew
“What the fuck do you mean I got outbid?” I shout as I walk into Cal’s office. His eyes dart to me. At least he has the decency to look unsettled by my unannounced appearance in his office.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, his eyes shifting around the room.
Good. The bastard should be scared. I have a mind to strangle the sonofabitch.
“Did you really think after the text you just sent me, I wouldn’t show up?”
“Hoped . . .” he mumbles under his breath.
“You obviously don’t know me as well as you thought you did if you think I am going to let this fly.”
“What do you want me to say? I’m sorry. This is business, Drew. You, of all people, should know this is how stuff goes.”
“I fucking hired your girl’s sister to get this property. I was assured it was a done deal.”
I hate speaking about Bailey like this, but I have to play the game that Cal would. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself, not even Harper.
“Don’t pretend you haven’t enjoyed every minute of having her in your club. I know all about you and your side action.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I see red. This guy is asking for me to end him.
“Nothing, bro. Just that she’s hot. That’s all. Listen, I had no choice.”
I stalk forward, menacingly, baring my teeth. “Don’t ever speak about Bailey like that again. Do you fucking read me?”
His hands fly up. “Calm the fuck down. I was just saying.”
“You don’t speak about her,” I yell.
“All right. Fine. Are we done here?” he asks, eyes finding the door behind me.
“Not even close. We had an agreement.”
“Never on paper.”
I slam my hands down on the desk, and the fucking coward jumps. “That’s not good enough. The papers were being signed, according to you.”
He gulps. “I’m sorry. I am. You did me a solid, but I had no choice.”
“You had a choice, Cal. You made the wrong one, and you know it.” I grate the last part through my teeth.
“It’s not like that. This time, I didn’t. He had me by my balls.” His face is ruddy, and I have to wonder what this mystery buyer has on him. “There was no other choice.”
“Who bought the property?” I say, low and threateningly.
He grimaces. “You know I can’t tell you that.”
I lean over the desk until our faces are only inches from each other. “I’ll ask one more time. Who. Bought. The. Property?”
He looks down, fidgeting with his hands.
“The name, Cal. I won’t ask you again.”
When his eyes lift to mine, I’m caught off guard by the concern in Cal’s expression. “Listen, before I tell you, I need you to promise not to kill him. He’s fucked up, man.”
He doesn’t need to say the name for me to know who he’s talking about. Reese. He’d threatened as much.
“Say it,” I demand, needing to verify that my assumption is correct.
“He still has
n’t gotten over her death. He’s hung up on you for some reason. Always talking about you and her.”
“Say it!” I bellow, and he jumps yet again.
“It was Reese.”
Fucking Christ. Will my past ever stop fucking with me? Will I ever be able to bury my sins and move ahead?
“Why?” It comes out pathetic. Broken.
No matter how many times Reese has pissed me off, I feel his pain. I know he’s beyond help. I feel powerless, and that’s not something I feel often.
“What do you mean, why?” Cal huffs a humorous laugh. “Isn’t it obvious? You wanted it, so he took it.”
“Did he say anything else?”
He blows out a breath. “Yeah. He mumbled that you’ll get what’s coming to you. Dude, he’s unhinged. I don’t know if it’s the drugs or what, but he’s lost his fucking mind.”
“I’ll handle him.”
“If you mean you’ll get him help, good. But as far as the property, it’s a done deal. Nothing can be changed now.”
I pick up a picture frame from his desk and smash it against the wall. “Don’t ask me for another favor. You and I? We’re fucking done, Cal.”
“You don’t understand . . .”
“Don’t give a shit,” I say, walking out and leaving a simpering Cal to ponder all the ways I could ruin his life.
I won’t bother. There are other locations. Yes, this is a setback, but I’ve dealt with worse.
The first thing I need to do is calm the fuck down. Then I need to deal with Reese.
I know he blames me. Shit. I blame myself, but messing with my life and my livelihood needs to stop. He needs to get help.
I indulged him by allowing him entrance to my club. In a weird way, I thought if he was in my space, I could watch over him, make sure he didn’t go overboard, but I’ve only enabled his behavior. Those days are over. He’s gone too far.
I’m on a mission to locate Reese. Any feelings of sympathy I harbored for him disappeared the moment that little shit went after my business.
I’m not sure what he’s up to. Knowing him, he doesn’t have a plan. He just wants to mess with me. I should be impressed that he stopped snorting coke long enough to make the deal happen.
Point to him. He’s won this round.
But I won’t let this indiscretion go unnoticed.
When I arrive at his apartment, I knock on the door. I don’t need to be rung up because my name is on the list. It’s been there for years. Back when Alexa and I would crash at his place after a night of partying. When we were actually friends.
This is not my first time stopping by unannounced. Just goes to show how gone he is if he hasn’t had me removed. He can’t be bothered to make a change like that, but he can organize a multimillion-dollar real estate deal. Fucking bullshit.
This will be my last time here. After this, I’ll have my own goddamn name removed.
I knock on the door, and when he doesn’t answer, I resort to banging my fist against the wood. “Open the fucking door, Reese!” I yell. He’s probably passed out in his own vomit somewhere and can’t hear me.
“I’ll break down this fucking door.” My fist raps on the door a few more times before I hear footsteps behind it. Then the door swings open.
Reese, as per usual, looks hungover. Actually, he seems like he’s still high.
His nostrils are flared and red-rimmed, but it’s the lockjaw that confirms he’s been snorting coke and probably still is.
That’s probably what took him so long to get to the door.
I should leave because there’s no point in talking to him right now, but the part of me who still cares about him and misses Alexa as much as he does wants to attempt to get through to him.
He doesn’t say a word as he lets me pass through the doorframe. He turns on his heels and walks toward his living room. I’m quick to follow and not at all surprised by the scene in front of me.
On the glass table is an open bag of coke and a few lines already set up beside it. He sits on the couch while I remain standing with my arms crossed at my chest.
Reese reaches forward and grabs the rolled-up dollar bill.
“Want a line? For old times’ sake?” he practically slurs, indicating he’s already had way too much.
“You need to stop that shit.”
“You’re no fun.”
“It’s going to kill you.”
“You mean like it did her?” I blanch at the mention of Alexa. I shouldn’t be surprised, but it’s still jarring. “Are you here to be my dad? Spoiler alert: I already have one of those.”
“He’s not doing a very good job.”
“You’re not telling me something I don’t know.”
Despite me being here, he leans forward and then inhales.
“Why are you here?” he asks as he wipes the remnants away from his nose.
“You know why.”
His brow lifts until understanding hits him because his lips tip up into a smirk.
“Doesn’t feel good to have something you care about be taken away from you.”
“It’s a fucking building, Reese. I’ll find another.” I shrug, knowing there are greater issues at hand. “You need to stop. I get it, you miss her.” I point at my chest. “I miss her too, but it’s got to stop. Snorting another line . . . buying a building out from under me . . . It isn’t going to bring her back.”
“But replacing her will?”
My hands ball into fists. But I don’t play into his jab because he’s high.
There is no reasoning with him when he’s like this.
“I’m out of here. I’m not gonna watch you kill yourself.”
“Because you care.”
“I do. Regardless of all this shit, I do. But I’m done, Reese. What you did? Not cool. I get you’re in pain, but going after my business . . . I’m done. I don’t want to see you again. Don’t come to my club anymore.”
“You can’t keep me out.”
“Try. You won’t be allowed access.”
He starts setting up another line, and I know if he keeps going, he will actually kill himself. I step forward, pushing him back onto the couch. He’s so damn high he doesn’t even put up a fight. After I round every last bag of coke I can locate, I head to the bathroom and flush it down the toilet. I don’t bother checking on him again, leaving him alone to do whatever he’ll do. The chances he has more hidden are high, but it can’t be my problem. I could stay, but I refuse to watch another person die.
32
Bailey
The door flies open to Drew’s office, and in walks what can only be described as a very pissed off Drew. His face is hard, and his body tense. He looks scary.
I narrow my eyes at him, trying to gauge what went wrong since the last time I saw him. It gets even more confusing when he walks to where I’m sitting at his desk, reaches forward, grabs the stack of sketches, and tears them up.
“Um. Something the matter with the drawings?” My brows rise, sky-high.
“You can say that.” He doesn’t clarify what he means. Instead, he scoffs all the way to his chair and sits down.
He doesn’t waste any time reaching for the decanter and pouring himself a drink. He knows better than to offer me any because I don’t drink. Regardless of the fact that the idea of having one at this moment—to tame the anxious feeling rolling inside me—is looking better and better.
Instead, I think of milk and Oreos and my father’s laughter, and my heart rate finally begins to slow.
“Okay, so now that you’ve had your drink, do you want to tell me what’s going on?”
“The property for the restaurant is gone.”
I gasp. “What do you mean, gone? How can it be gone?”
He opens his mouth to say something but must change his mind. Instead, he shakes his head.
“It doesn’t matter how. It just is.”
I lean forward in my chair, placing my elbows on the desk.
“So then let’s come u
p with a plan. Just because the property is gone doesn’t mean we have to give up. This is New York City. There have to be plenty of properties that fit the bill.”
He nods his head as he places the glass next to his lips and takes another swig of the amber liquid.
But even though he’s in agreement with me, he still doesn’t speak. He’s lost in thought a million miles away, and I’m not sure how to bring him back to the here and now. What the hell happened to have him so despondent? Instead of bringing up what is obviously a sore subject, I trudge forward with work. It’s the best I can do.
“Tell me what you’re looking for. This is why you hired me. Let me help you.”
He mulls over my words, all the while watching me with an intensity that has me shrinking under the pressure of it. I’m not sure what finally has the hard edges on his face relaxing and the tension from moments ago dissipating, but I’m grateful.
“Okay.” He places the glass down and opens his desk drawer. He passes me a sheet of paper. On the paper are the specs from the original building. The square footage, not just for the whole space, but also broken down by how much space he would need for the kitchen, dining area, and then the lounge he wants to set up.
The next thing he pulls out is a business card.
“This is my realtor.” It’s all he offers.
“I’ll take care of all this. You relax and let me do my job.” A look passes through his eyes, and it’s filled with an emotion I can’t quite gauge.
“Thank you,” he finally says before going back to his drink.
I grab the stack of papers and make my way into the adjacent office to make the calls.
