My eyes drift around our elegant surroundings. “Are they still hiring?”
He laughs even louder. “You don’t seem to be doing bad for yourself,” he says, motioning his head to my building shrinking into the background as the limo merges into traffic.
I twist my neck to peer at the place I call home. It is a beautiful building designed to withstand the test of time. It is at the forefront of architectural design, being both elegant and masculine at the same time.
Other than the dream of one day owning my own dental practice, having a place to call my own has always been one of my greatest wishes. So passing that goal before I turned twenty-five was a remarkable accomplishment I'll happily praise myself for achieving.
I turn my gaze from peering out the back window to glance at Hugo. He appears to be watching the dense flow of traffic outside, but I’m not buying it. I can feel the heat of his scorching eyes peering at me.
“What really brought you to my apartment tonight?” I query, no longer able to assuage my curiosity for his spontaneous visit.
Before Hugo has the chance to reply, the driver advises that we’ve reached our destination.
“Wait here, I’ll come around and get you.”
I smile and nod my head at Hugo’s request. As he darts around the car, my eyes absorb a long line of men and women wrapping half way down the block and around the corner. Hundreds of well-dressed patrons are huddled together under the shopfront awnings, vainly trying to keep dry from the sprinkling of rain falling from the sky.
A middle-aged gentleman with a thick silver mustache rushes out of a set of double doors. The umbrella in his hand shelters Hugo from the rain as he opens the door of the limousine and offers me his hand. I press my thighs together and slither out of the car, futilely attempting to maintain a sense of modesty in the super short skirt Hugo chose for me to wear.
“Good evening, Ma’am,” greets the mustached gentleman.
“Hello,” I reply shyly.
A roar of protest comes from the crowd when the large Maori-looking bouncer on the door of the club unlatches the red velvet rope and gestures for us to enter. My pulse increases with every step we take. Brushed metals; rich, dark woodgrain material; and hot, sweaty bodies writhing together to the latest club hits make a stimulating visual. As the heat in the room elevates, so does Hugo’s grip on my hand.
Standing on the balls of his feet, he extends to his full height, allowing him to see over the dense crowd. His head cranks to the right before switching it to the left, like he is seeking someone amongst the sweat-drenched club goers. When his avid search fails to locate his target, he strides to the bar. Since he is still clutching my hand, I shadow closely behind.
A broad smile stretches across my face the closer we get to the polished wood bar. It’s like the cast fromCoyote UglyandCocktaildanced beneath the sheets and had a baby. Beautiful, scantily clad women are performing a provocative dance routine on the bar top while equally attractive male bartenders flip and twist bottles of liquor into the air behind them.
Even though the scene could be construed as overly seductive, the beaming smiles on the bar staff’s faces give it more a fun, playful vibe. Just watching the happiness projecting out of them forces a smile on my face.
When the performance is over, Hugo leans over the wooden countertop and seeks the attention of a female bartender serving customers halfway down the bar. “Tammy, is he still here?”
The beautiful blonde turns her head to the side. “No, sorry. You missed him by ten minutes.”
Hugo lifts his spare hand to his head and runs his fingers through his glorious, thick mane of hair, making my fingers twitch with jealousy. The blaring music pumping from the speakers hanging from the ceiling fails to drown out the swear word that seeps from Hugo’s lips. My breathing halts when the bartender next to Tammy cranks his head to the side.Rhys Tagget.
Smiling, Rhys saunters towards us. Just like Hugo, age has been gracious to him. His body is lean with a splattering of muscles in all the right places. Just from the way he walks, you can tell he’d be extraordinary in bed, and he knows it. He brazenly winks before leaning over the counter so his eyes can rake the length of my body. He studies me with just as much attention as I assessed him. Every inch of my skin becomes flushed with heat from his vivid perusal.
When his eyes return to my face, he croons. “C’est un plaisir de vous revoir, Ava.” His voice is rich and deep like Marvin Gaye singing sweet serenades into my ear.
Masking my surprise that he remembers me, I accept the hand he offers in greeting.
“Nice to see you again, too, Rhys.” I try to make my voice sultry and mature, but it still comes out a little girly.
I flick my eyes to Hugo when his grip on my hand tightens. His jaw flexes as he watches the exchange between Rhys and me.
“You remember Rhys; don’t you, Hugo?”
A scornful smirk etches on Hugo’s mouth. “How could I forget your French tutor?”
My heart gallops when I see a streak of possession in his vibrant blue eyes. I have no trouble recognizing that streak as I’ve worn it many times in the past when dealing with the troupe of women who always flounder around Hugo when he blesses them with his presence.
Even now, with Hugo’s hand clasped tightly around mine, women are circling like a kettle of vultures, waiting for the prime opportunity to attack and devour their prey. Hugo’s rugged looks attract a broad caliber of women, from prima donna Barbie doll-looking women to the geeky professor types.
My eyes revert from the skimpily dressed carcass-eaters when my name is spoken by a voice that still invades my dreams even after years of absence.
“Sorry, what did you say?”
