and threw on my favorite vintage Manolos because my college friends from SMU called me over a week ago and talked me into reliving our college days. When I’d reluctantly said yes, I hadn’t planned on my week turning into a shit show, but they wouldn’t take no for an answer.
In the past four hours, I’ve drank enough to be slightly buzzed and more-than-slightly bloated. The good old days aren’t what they used to be.
Not to sound like a boring hag, but I don’t have the luxury of wasting an entire Sunday recovering from an exhausting night out. I have important meetings first thing Monday morning about our newest—and biggest ever—acquisition and, since I just flew in this afternoon from New York, I need to work all day tomorrow.
But unlike years ago when we were drinking Boone’s and downing cheap tequila, we’ve all graduated to martinis, top-shelf mixed drinks, and fancy shooters that don’t go down like a sack of nails.
A couple standing next to me at the bar have been all over each other for at least the last fifteen minutes. Juggling enough drinks for a small tribe, they’re finally off to deliver their big-ass order that took forever to fill. As soon as they clear out, something—or someone—catches my eye and I can’t make myself look away.
Leaning into the bar is a man who doesn’t belong and it has nothing to do with his appearance. He’s tall, solid, and clearly not out to impress anyone and even less impressed with those around him. In fact, by the stony expression engraved into his profile, he seems to be enjoying himself less than I am—and that’s saying something.
He lifts a glass of ice water to his full lips to take a swig, causing his jaw to flex and his Adam’s apple to bob. I find myself staring unabashedly, making the pounding of the music and roar of the crowd melt away.
Tipping my head, I study him—strong and resolute, yet aloof and melancholy. He exudes boredom even though he’s subtly surveying the room, attentive in a way that’s odd for this time on a Saturday night. As the crowd around us creates a brash hum with bodies clashing, he invites none of it, creating a wide berth around himself.
I’m not sure what makes me do it since he’s clearly not making eye contact with anyone, but for some reason the words pop out of my mouth anyway. “So, you’re the DD?”
His eyes move first, jumping to me so fast it might be an optical world record, followed by a lazy shift of his head. His dark eyes minutely narrow but the rest of his face remains stoic. He looks me up and down and when he speaks, he doesn’t even raise his voice, yet his low baritone comes out loud and clear. “Yeah.”
I raise a brow, wondering what the fuck is up with this guy. No one intimidates me—besides my dad when he’s pissed off—and, since I’m bored, I turn to him and take a step, closing half the distance between us. It’s probably my personality mixed with the buzz and a strong dose of my own boredom, but I really want to get this guy to talk.
I love a challenge. Hell, I get off on it.
“How did you draw the short straw?”
His apathetic countenance breaks and he turns to me, setting his water glass on the bar and leans farther into it. When his arms cross on his wide chest, my eyes go straight to the tattoo of some sort of intricate map running down the outside of his forearm. Just when I’m trying to make out the words entwined within it, he says, “We didn’t draw straws. I’m new to town and my co-workers insisted on dragging me out tonight. When I saw the rate they were going, I switched to water.”
“The responsible one.” I tip my head and raise a brow. “I like it.”
He lifts his head once and doesn’t seem interested in my line of conversation, but still doesn’t take his eyes off me. “You drew the short straw?”
I shake my head. “Nope. Just sick of being here but trying to act like I’m having fun for my friends’ sake.”
“You’re not a very good actress.”
“Ouch,” I feign before correcting him. “The PC term these days is actor—equal opportunity and all that.”
He gives me a lazy shrug. “I don’t give a shit about political correctness.”
For some reason this makes me smile. I’ll take someone real over a bullshitter