dressed in expensive suits lean in close telling bullshit stories over a bottle of Glenlivet. An older couple people watch, each holding a glass of red wine. The bartender wipes down the counter with a bored expression on his face.
Anna sits in a corner booth away from them all, peering down into an amber liquid-filled rocks glass. She looks lonely and desolate, and I should turn to leave. Other than the businessmen jaw-jacking about times gone by, there isn’t anyone here I can picture Anna leaving the bar with, but I don’t go back to the room.
I spend a moment unnoticed just taking her in. From the top of her head to the tips of her toes, the woman is gorgeous. The sun-kissed, no doubt chemically enhanced tones of her multihued dark hair glitters under the soft light over her head. Her pouty lips are meant to be kissed, and if we didn’t have a history, if she was just a girl in a bar, I’d be on her in a split second. Even though she looks high-class and too expensive to get tangled up with, I’d take my shot. Not only would I try to pick her up, I’d count my lucky stars if she looked up and smiled at me before she told my ass to get lost, which she no doubt would. Because Diesel jeans or not, there are just some traits to people who grew up with money that those who didn’t can ever fake, and Anna doesn’t seem like the type of girl to go slumming with a man like me.
After gaining the attention of the businessmen, and the way they dart their eyes from me to Anna, I know it’s only a matter of time before one of them builds the courage to walk up to her.
I belly up to the bar and order a glass of whiskey before carrying it to her table and taking a seat. I don’t know if she looked up while I was at the bar, or if she doesn’t give a damn who sat down with her, but she doesn’t lift her eyes in question or to greet me. I’m fine with it. I’m not one for conversation anyway.
After sitting quietly for ten minutes, Anna pulls her clutch from some magical pocket in her dress. I guess the glass of whiskey she’s drowned didn’t provide the answers she was hoping for. She thanks the bartender when he comes over and refills her glass, but other than that she doesn’t take her eyes from her phone.
“Please tell me you aren’t updating your social media with your location.”
Her lips twitch, but she doesn’t answer. I think she was scared enough last night that I won’t have to worry about shit like that, but then again, this is Annalise Grimaldi sitting beside me. All I have to go on is my knowledge of who she was in the past. I don’t know a damn thing about her other than what I had Wren pull for me. He gave me shit about it when I requested it after getting back from Altieri, Inc. earlier.
As suspected, Anna doesn’t have a single thing in her current life or in her surprisingly squeaky-clean past that would make me suspect that she’s got something going on that would lead to her apartment getting ripped to shreds. Her world is being turned upside down because of her friend.
Her phone chimes with an alert, and like an overprotective bodyguard, I bristle when she doesn’t immediately tell me who she’s getting a message from.
I stew in my irritation, downing what’s left of my drink and signaling for the bartender to bring me another.
“I have a gala to attend in three days.”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?” Her eyes lift, meeting mine for the first time since I sat down at the table.
“It’s not a good idea. There’s too much shit going on right now.”
“I’m not just going to stop living my life because Dani is in trouble.”
“I’m not asking you to stop living your life,” I snap because this sounds much like the argument I had with Dani a million years ago when she was going out every night instead of spending time with me when I was on leave. Fuck, why didn’t I see the signs back then? They were like flashing red lights, but all I could see was my beautiful wife. “You just need to hit the pause button for a while.”