Heartbreak Me by T.L. Smith Page 0,14

think almost every woman here has ogled him at some point. Even the wife whose husband Atlas is talking with is looking at him as if he’s her next meal, even as she stands there holding her husband’s arm.

I look away from his perfectly crafted hair and nose ring that makes him look even more appealing. Reaching in my bag for my AirPods, I place them in my ears with my phone in hand and walk to a small empty table situated behind a few guys who are bundled around another table talking.

“Yes, I know what you mean, but explain it again,” I say to my phone with my AirPods in my ears as I feel eyes on me. Of course, I have loosely placed the AirPods so I can still hear everything being said. Most people will go about their conversations if they think you’re preoccupied.

Which is exactly what they do.

“He came alone,” one man says.

“He’s never alone. Don’t fool yourself. He didn’t get where he is at his age being foolish. Now go and introduce yourself before he moves to the next, and take that piece of ass with you, so she can pry her way into his bed.”

I look to my side and see one man walk away with a woman attached to his arm. Not too far in front of them is Atlas. He’s holding a drink in hand while he nods his head to what someone’s saying. I watch as the man with the woman walks up to him, then watch in fascination as the woman does exactly what she was asked to do, stands next to Atlas and turns on her charm.

Is she like me? Being blackmailed into doing things we don’t want to? It’s the only explanation I can give myself for why this woman is listening to men to sell herself to.

Atlas’s eyes flick to me, and my cell buzzes in my hand.

Atlas: What did you hear?

His name comes up as I read the message. Looking away from him, I type out my reply and watch as he reads it.

Me: She’s to find a way to sleep with you.

His lips move as if he’s fighting a smirk while he glances at the man who’s in front of him. The man laughs at something Atlas says, but Atlas makes no movement to indicate he cares for what this man has to say. Atlas places an arm around the woman, leans down and whispers in her ear, and while he does, his eyes search for mine, locking on as he whispers to her, then looks away. My breath, which I didn’t realize I was holding, escapes, and I make a move to the bar. The waiter comes over, and I order a glass of champagne—one glass can’t hurt, and I really need it right now to calm my nerves.

Turning around with the glass in hand, I almost spill it as I bump into Atlas, who’s there in front of me. He takes the glass from my hand and walks back to where he was previously standing.

What the actual fuck?

“Well, didn’t see that one coming,” a voice comes from next to me.

Turning, I come face to face with a man who’s dressed to kill. He looks good, really good. The man almost rivals Atlas with his looks, but there’s something about Atlas that makes him stand out from the rest.

The man picks up a handful of peanuts and throws one into his mouth, closing his lips to chew. He has full lips and high cheekbones. His light-colored hair is a contrast to his tanned skin and playful smile. He almost looks like he’s walked out of a surfing competition and threw on a suit.

Choosing to ignore him, I turn around and order a water instead. This time when I turn around, no one is there to take it from me.

Fuck! I really do need a drink now.

“So, you’re his new plaything.” Turning back to that voice, another peanut is popped into his mouth. He throws the next one high in the air and catches it. When I don’t answer, he smirks. “My guess is he told you not to talk. Smart move.” He nods, then looks at where Atlas is standing. I follow his line of sight and watch as Atlas walks away with that woman, his hand on her hip as they disappear out of sight.

I look to the stranger who seems to know more than he should, and offer him a smile before