“Hey, you made it!” Barry booms. Almost as tall as I am, he’s solidly built, with broad shoulders and massive arms and legs from playing football for the University of Georgia. A knee injury ended his athletic career, so he focused on academics and went to Yale Law. A tuft of bleached yellow hair, an excessive tan and a slightly goofy grin make him appear mildly dim-witted, especially when he lays it on thick with a Georgian drawl, but he’s one of the meanest lawyers at Huxley & Webber. He slaps my back twice, having quickly deduced that a man-hug is not the way to go with me. Like I said, smarter than he looks. And he’s already soused.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“I don’t believe you. Bet you were doing billable work until two seconds ago,” he says with a tipsy laugh.
I shrug. “I bill, therefore I am.” The previous legal team for one of our clients screwed up an overseas leveraged finance deal, which means that nowIhave to fix it. As complicated and frustrating as it is to navigate the bureaucracies of multiple countries, work is a great balm for the soul. It doesn’t betray you or let you down.
I don’t mention that while I was doing the work, I was also thinking about ways to find a wife in under three days. Barry wouldn’t know a respectable woman if his life depended on it. His fiancée is a fluke. Wouldn’t it be convenient if an acceptably decent woman just jumped in front of my car? That actually happened with one of my cousins, but I doubt I’ll be that lucky.
Four scantily clad strippers push a giant cake into the room, setting it in front of an enormous champagne fountain. The guys are already drunk, hooting and yelling in good spirits. Although I paste on a smile for Barry’s sake, this isn’t my kind of scene. Halfan hour, then I’m going back to my room to wrap up the contract amendments. I start to reach for a glass of champagne, and the top of the cake opens and a well-bronzed blonde in a tiny bikini with nipple tassels pops up. “Ta-da!”
What the fuck?My hand drops without touching the flute. Dread, resignation and irritation pump in sync to the music as my latest ex shimmies in the cake like a Hawaiian dancing doll. Her tits bounce in every direction, much to the excitement and delight of the intoxicated men. If anybody recognizes her, it’s impossible to tell with the deafening music and noise.
Then Barry squints. “Isn’t that Soledad?”
I sigh. “Yes.”
Soledad is the only child of a billionaire venture capitalist who also happens to be a client of Andreas Webber, one of the name partners at the firm. She supposedly took one look at me and fell in love. She pursued me relentlessly for six months until I agreed to a date just to get her off my back.
And it went all right. Despite my misgivings, she was actually pleasant. Even carried on an interesting conversation. The second date was better, and she kept calling and texting to set up times. I even thought she might be the one I could carry on with long term, since she isn’t the kind of woman Harvey can manipulate…
Then we hit the third month, and everything went to shit.
“Ares, I love you!” she screams over the music.
My skin crawls at her wide grin. She’d make a great Joker.
“Wow,” Barry says. “She loves you.”
I clench my fists. “No.”
Apparently, Soledad can read my lips from across the room. “Don’t be cruel. You know my heart is true!”
“Her heart istrue,” Barry informs me.
“As true as a beachfront property in Nebraska.” There were several reasons for our breakup—such as her sudden meddlingin my private schedule, as well as rapid-onset jealousy and clinginess. She even demanded to know who Queen was—much to my shock, since I don’t discuss her with anybody, especially not my exes. But the deathblow came when I caught her in bed with a gigolo. She was wrapped around him like a starved boa constrictor, calling him Ares.
I remember standing there quietly and watching for a moment. Intellectually I understood I should be upset, but inside there was nothing. Her antics and endless demands had exhausted me. It takes too much mental energy to rouse anger for a woman you have no feelings for. Besides, it wasn’t my bed, it was hers. And she was welcome to invite whomever she wanted.
I merely stepped into the walk-in closet to take the two suits I’d left there. The gigolo noticed me before she did and ran out with his clothes faster than I could say, “Defamation lawsuit.”
As I came out, she hopped off the bed and grabbed my arm. I yanked it out of her grasp without a word. She wasn’t worth the effort.
“Aren’t you mad?” she demanded, standing in front of me without bothering to cover herself.
“No.” I paused, mildly curious about something. “Is his name really Ares?”
She turned red. “No!I was pretending he was you, since you’re so cold in bed!” She pointed at the newly created hickeys on her neck. “You see these? He did them! For me!” Her eyes were open so wide that I could see the white on all sides.Deranged. “Because he cares about me!”
Her shrill declaration tightened my gut, but also reaffirmed that I’d made the right decision to end the relationship before she became even crazier and clingier. “I’m happy for the two of you.” I left, blocked her number and promptly forgot about her.
So why the hell is she here?“Did you hire her?”
“Nope.” Barry raises his right hand. “I solemnly swear on my mother’s grave.”
“Your mother’s healthier than a horse and will probably outlive both of us.”
He grabs a glass of whiskey from a tray. “Here. Drink this.” He gestures at my ex. “She’s crazy, we all know that. I’ll have security throw her out.”
