I barely get two steps away from Ryan when he asks, “What are you doing here, Savannah?”
He says my name so bizarrely, like he hasn't mentioned it in years.Perhaps he hasn’t? Maybeshedoesn’t like him talking about me?
“Uh. . . I was just. . .umm.” Spotting a flyer flapping in the cool breeze, I settle on, “A mix up in dates. I thought it was ladies’ night. My mistake.”
Ryan nods as if accepting my excuse. It is a pity his eyes don't hold the same confidence.
“Your ride?” he asks, nudging his head to a gleaming gold Mercedes pulled to the curb at the front of the club.
After soundlessly thanking my blessings, I stammer out, “Yes! I better get a wiggle on. He hates waiting.”
I hope the past ten years have been more detrimental to Ryan’s hearing than his looks, as my voice is doused with so much deceit, even a stranger would detect it.
“He?You brought aguyto ladies’ night?” Ryan interrupts, his tone rife with suspicion.
“Uh huh,” I reply, annoyed by his uncalled for interrogation. “Come on, Ry. We’re in the twenty-first century. Lots of relationships step outside the box these days.”
He glares at me. “Ryan. No one calls me Ry anymore.”
Ouch.Hello ego, here, have a bruise.
“Sorry. . .Ryan.” I peer over my shoulder, certain my mother has joined the party. The way I sneered his name was low—nearly as low as my heart rate is sitting. “I wasn’t aware the shortening of your name was damaging to your sanity. I’ll be sure not to make the same mistake next time.” I stop pacing to the stranger’s Mercedes to add a final nail into the coffin of our conversation. “Ifthere’s a next time.”
My dash to the Mercedes is fast, but not fast enough to miss Ryan’s quick exhalation of air. He isn’t the only one fuming. How dare he be so rude. I’m not a piece of gum his shoe picked up on the sidewalk. I was his first love—his first lover!I should always hold a special place in his heart.Shouldn’t I?
Blinded by anger and confusion, I throw open the Mercedes’ passenger side door and slide into the warm leather seats without a second thought. The driver startles, as shocked by my arrival as I am by my eagerness to evade Ryan. Am I so desperate to get away from him, I’m willing to put my life at risk?
I realize my answer is yes when I blubber out, “I will pay you any amount you request if you will drive out of this parking lot right now.”
The man I’d guess to be in his late forties advises his caller that he’ll call back later before housing his cell in his suit. The longer his glassy eyes scan my features, the tighter his brows knit.
“Abby?” he queries, his slight intoxication not affecting his ability to remember my name. “They said you won’t do private dances.”
I lose the chance to confirm his suspicions when I spot Ryan in the passenger side mirror, ambling closer to the Mercedes. The curiosity on his face matches that of the man whose car I’ve hijacked.
“I don’t. . .usually.But if that’s something you’re interested in, I’m sure I can arrange something.” My voice is full of shame.
The stranger’s face lights up, answering my offer without words.
“Okay, great, but I need you to drive first. Now.Please.”
He peers at Ryan approaching his vehicle with caution before dragging his eyes down the street, as if expecting undercover officers to jump out of the bushes and arrest him for prostitution. I understand his apprehension. Even with Ryan out of uniform, he still looks like a cop. He has the swagger of a cop, never mind the fact his hand is braced on his waist where his gun usually sits—if it isn’t still positioned there. Ryan has the same cutthroat determination Regina has. I doubt he ever clocks out.
“Please,” I beg the stranger when Ryan spots my inconspicuous gawk in the side mirror, not only speeding up my heart but his steps as well. “I’m doing an exclusive show at Maison’s Bordello next month. I’ll get you an invitation.”
“Really?” His tone is way too sleazy for a man of his age.
I swallow my dinner for the second time tonight before nodding. “Yep. Definitely.”
I don’t care if his cover charge costs me every penny I’ve earned so far this week, I’ll pay any amount to stop the pain throwing my heart back to the point it was ten years ago. I’ll even lower my dignity to that of a whore, because no amount could shred my ego any more than my exchange with Ryan just did.
Our reunion was brutal, ten times worse than I could have possibly imagined. He looked at me like he hated me, like I am the one who broke his heart.
That hurts even more than his reflection fading in the side mirror as I drive away from him in tears for the third time in my life.
Chapter 11
Ryan
