Arrogant Bastard - Julie Capulet Page 0,4

an angled pixie bob. It has a wave to it that has a mind of its own. Even if I try to straighten it, within around five minutes it’s starting to curl again, especially in the Florida heat, so I comb it into place and leave it at that. Then I head back downstairs to help Rico and the kitchen and waitstaff.

I don’t care that our bar isn’t the fanciest in town. It has character. It’s funky and fun. Original and old school. It was a case of buying the worst business in the best location, because it was all we could (barely) afford. All the tables and chairs on the deck are colorful and festive, an effect that’s enhanced by the shimmering blue water behind. We have a small beach and a dock where our customers can tie up their boats or park their jet skis. Our menu is basic American fare done well.

Maybe we could get another investor. Someone who has an interest in contributing money from afar, so Josie and I can continue to run our business without too much interference. We were only just getting going when Josie found out she was expecting. Her enthusiasm hasn’t been quite the same ever since, with the morning sickness and the fear, but she’ll come round again, once she has her babies and settles into a routine. We’ll figure out how to grow the business and raise her little boys.

Everything will be fine.

My phone rings in my pocket. I don’t recognize the number but I answer it anyway. “Gage McCabe.”

“Hi, Gage! It’s Crystal.”

Crystal. Fuck. Which one was Crystal? “Hi,” I bluff, trying to make my voice sound at least mildly enthusiastic. “How are you?”

“I could be better …” Her voice lowers breathily. “ … if you were doing that thing to me that you did in the back of your limo last weekend.”

Ah. Now I remember. I picked her up at a fundraiser I went to last Saturday night. Blond. Fake tits. About as riveting to talk to as a doormat. I try not to focus too much on the flaws but there were a lot of them. As there always are.

I hadn’t been interested at all until I was practically inebriated. Martini goggles changed my mind. “Yeah, that was fun.” I run my fingers through my hair as I try to tone down my boredom. I need a haircut. Why the fuck did I give this girl my number? I think she might have insisted somewhere in the middle of round two of that thing I did to her in the back of the limo. The details are hazy at this point.

“God, Gage, you’re so freaking hot. I want to see you again. Come visit me.”

Fuck no. “I can’t. I’m working.”

She giggles, like she hasn’t heard me correctly. “Just for the weekend. It would be so fun.”

“No, I—”

“Guess where I am?”

I sigh. I’m not in the mood for this. “Where are you?”

“Poolside in my very skimpy bikini … in Key West!”

Yawn. “That’s great. Well, hey, it was nice talking to you.”

“Don’t be so boring, Gage. Come visit. Live a little.”

This almost makes me laugh. Give me a break. Live a little? Living a whole damn lot isn’t my problem. I live in the fast lane and always have. The last thing I need is this silicone-enhanced bimbo telling me what I should or shouldn’t be doing.

“It’ll be fun,” she coos.

I don’t sleep with women beyond one night. It becomes tedious. They start thinking about commitment, it happens that fast. They latch on like barnacles if you let them get too close or start allowing them time. And commitment is very definitely something I don’t want anything to fucking do with. “Listen, uh …” What did she say her name was again? “Crystal. I’m on my way to a meeting, so I’ll—”

“Remember those cuff links you were wearing last Saturday? The ones with the rubies embedded into two linked circles?”

My father’s cuff links. Given to him by my mother.

My fingers touch the cuff of my sleeve.

Fuck. I hadn’t noticed they were missing. “You stole my cuff links?”

“I didn’t steal them! I found them in my clutch. Remember one of them fell off when I tore off your shirt? I put them in there to keep them safe.”

She stole my fucking cuff links. The only thing I own that has any real sentimental value. “I can’t believe this.”

“Gage, I did not steal them, you jerk! Come on. Come to Key