Faking Ms. Right (Dirty Martini Running Club #1) - Claire Kingsley Page 0,53

paused. I had somewhere to be tonight, and tempting as it was to take Everly home and see where that kiss led, it was an obligation I didn’t want to miss. But maybe…

“I actually have to go somewhere tonight,” I said.

Her face fell. “Oh, sure. That’s fine. We drove separately anyway.”

“But I’d like you to meet me there later.”

The glimmer of hope in her eyes made it hard not to scoop her up and kiss her again. “Sure. Where?”

“The Office.”

“You have to go back to work?”

“No, it’s a bar called the Office.” I got out my phone. “I’ll text you the address. I have to get over there early, but be there around eight. I’ll find you.”

Her expression was bewildered, but I decided not to explain. It would be easier to show her, anyway.

“Okay, I’ll be there.”

The elevator doors opened and I walked her to her car. I stood aside and watched her leave, wondering if I’d just made a big mistake. Kissing her had changed everything. I felt it, deep in my chest.

She didn’t know it yet, but I was about to trust her with one of my biggest secrets. The thought left me feeling raw, like an open wound. I wasn’t used to this. But instead of shying away—burying myself in work—I let it happen. Felt the uncertainty, acknowledged it, and decided I was doing it anyway.

19

Everly

My ride pulled up to the curb on a side street downtown. Shepherd had said he’d meet me, so I’d taken an Uber rather than drive my own car.

I glanced out the window again. Dim light illuminated a sign that read The Office over a nondescript door. A couple came out, the guy’s arm slung over the girl’s shoulders.

“I guess this is it,” I said, but there wasn’t any confidence in my voice. This place looked like a dive bar. Why would Shepherd ask me to meet him here?

I got out and tucked my phone back in my little handbag. He hadn’t told me what we were doing, so I’d been at a loss as to what to wear. I’d opted for a teal shirt and black skirt with heels. My hair was down and I fluffed it a little before going inside.

Live rock music filled the bar. It was definitely a dive. Concrete walls were papered with newspaper clippings and band posters. Exposed bulbs in the ceiling cast a dim light and the floor was sticky.

My tummy did a little flip. I was so nervous to see Shepherd. That kiss. I’d surprised myself when I’d grabbed his shirt and kissed him. But nothing could have prepared me for the way he’d reacted. He’d kissed me back, leaving me breathless.

And now? I wasn’t sure what it meant. Everything at the hospital had been so intense. We were supposed to be pretending, but things were getting all too real. I assumed he’d asked me to meet him because he wanted to talk. But here? It was crowded and loud and not the kind of place I’d have thought Shepherd would go.

I didn’t see him anywhere—which was odd because he’d stick out like a sore thumb in this place. It was crowded—surprising on a Monday night—and it was clear people were here for the music. A few sat at the bar or the small tables, but the rest packed in around the stage.

It was an eclectic mix of people. Guys with tattoos and piercings. Girls with brightly dyed hair and badass red lipstick. Rockers with long hair and leather. A group of guys in button-down shirts, the sleeves cuffed. They looked more like Shepherd, but even they seemed too casual. There were older people, young couples, and everything in between. Although it was different than most of the places my girlfriends and I hung out, I liked it.

I texted Shepherd to let him know I was here, then wandered through the crowd toward the stage, keeping my eye out for him. The music was good. Really good. I found myself a little bit mesmerized by the melody. The singer had a great voice, but it was more than that. The band had an energy to them that drew me in. No wonder this place was so packed on a weeknight.

The bass drum had the band name on it—Incognito. The drummer beat the drums, sweat gleaming on his forehead. A guitar player sang backup into a mic next to the lead singer. The bass player stood toward the back of the stage where the light