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“You look amazing, Ava,” Reid says, giving my ensemble a once over. He looks over my shoulder where Brandon stands a few paces back, giving me some privacy.
Lowering his voice, Reid asks, “What’s going on with the secret service?”
A laugh escapes. “That’s Brandon. He’s acting as my bodyguard. All under Asher’s insistence.”
Reid nods and puts an arm around my shoulder, walking us towards the club entrance.
A quick look back, and Brandon is following. It seems wrong to introduce the men. Brandon’s sour face since I informed him I’d go out where and with whoever I wanted lets me know that introducing the two could be awkward at best. Deadly, at most, for Reid.
Reid and I step to the double doors, and the heavy bass of the music from the club drowns out most of what he’s saying to the guard at the door.
When he motions to me and Brandon coming up behind us, the man at the door nods and the three of us skip the line and are permitted into the club. Reid leads us to the bar, sweat already gathering at his hairline. How is he this hot when we were just outside in January temperatures?
Unless he’s back on the coke he swears isn’t a problem and can quit when he wants to.
We sidle up to the bar, greeting a few familiar faces. The usual crowd is here tonight, and Reid asks what I’m drinking.
“Paloma,” I respond, ready for the tequila to dull my nerves and allow me to forget about the events of today.
“Alright, be right back,” he says, moving towards the other end of the bar to order our drinks and greet a man I recognize as one of Reid’s coworkers, who also works under Asher.
“Ava.” Brandon’s deep baritone feels silky in my ear. He’s close due to the crush of bodies and the near deafening volume of the house music mix that’s blaring. “I’ll be just over there if you need me.”
He points to a spot next to the bar. I nod my understanding, expecting him to leave, but instead Brandon hesitates.
I swivel on the barstool and make eye contact. Something in his dark eyes appears as if he doesn’t want to leave me.
“Brandon?” I say his name because if he asked me to, I’d leave right now with him so he and I could be somewhere together. Just the two of us. Not in the crush of bodies and incessant loud music.
Someone passes by and jostles me, nearly knocking me off the stool, but Brandon deftly reaches his arms out and stops me from pitching forward. I look up at him after our near collision. His breaths are rapid, and this close he could easily close the gap and kiss me. I’d welcome his lips on mine.
“Just be careful,” he says instead. “Let me know when you and…Reid are ready to leave.”
Brandon doesn’t give me a chance to respond and leaves my side, but he’s still close enough to keep an eye on me and anyone around me.
I’m crestfallen at Brandon’s quick abandonment, but Reid sets the pink cocktail in front of me, and I turn away from Brandon.
“Surprisingly quick,” I say, twirling the drink with the slim straw and swirling the liquor and grapefruit juice.
“Yeah, for once this place isn’t understaffed,” he says, picking up one of his lowball glasses of amber liquid. Reid didn’t hesitate when it came to drinking, normally ordering two at a time. Reid’s go to drink of choice was Macallan 18. He said all the bigwigs in finance drank it and he’d learned to acquire the taste for whisky to better hobnob with the financial elite.
“So, what’s up with the bodyguard?” Reid questions, taking a large gulp of the first drink. “Are you, like, getting chased by some crazy guy every day?”
I lean closer to Reid, shouting into his ear. “Someone has been sending weird messages. Today someone broke into the dressing room for my cover shoot.”
I lean away from Reid to take a sip of my own drink. His eyes enlarge at the info I just gave him.
“That’s some sick shit, Ave!”
“Tell me about it. Now I need a bodyguard and constantly have to look over my fucking shoulder.”
“Well,” Reid says, dragging my stool so it’s lined up right next to his and his warm thigh is pressing against my own. “I can’t blame the creepy bastard. You’re a fine piece of ass. After the last time you tossed me out of your apartment, I was tempted to lurk and beg for another chance.”
I rear back from Reid’s words. “That’s some weird shit to say, Reid. You don’t understand what I’ve been through this last week. That sicko could have killed my family.”
Reid takes a sip of his second Macallan and holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m just joking, Ava. You used to be able to take a joke.”
I relax my shoulders, no longer in defensive mode. Reid is just an insensitive ass who I normally only rely on for a good time.
