“I quit.” I shrug. Katia doesn’t need to know more than that. She’s the office gossip, and the more information I give her, the faster the news will spread. Not that I really care—I’m literally on my way out the door, but I also don’t feel the need to give everyone something more to talk about.
“Oh-em-gee,” she squeals. “Tell me everything.”
Nope.
Ignoring her, I pull open the bottom drawer to my desk and pull out my bag of emergency essentials, tossing it into the tote. My phone begins to vibrate from where I sat it next to my closed laptop, displaying an out-of-country phone number. I rarely answer calls from numbers I don’t recognize, so I silence the calland return my attention back to placing my things in my bag before picking it up and hoisting it over my shoulder.
Looking at my co-worker, I shrug. “I’ve got to run,” I close the door on the conversation, air kissing both of her cheeks. As I breeze past her, I toss a quick, “Don’t be a stranger,” over my shoulder.
Not once during my departure does Shelby exit her office. The not-so-subtle reminder of how little she values me lingers in the air as I ride the elevator down, leaving the building.
A crisp Manhattan breeze bites the apples of my cheeks, and I tighten the cashmere scarf around my neck, regretting not wearing a trench coat. As I walk, I pull out my phone and call my best friend.
“Shouldn’t you be at work?” Vinnie asks in place of a greeting after just two rings. I hear the soft clicks of her keyboard through the phone speaker and what I can only assume is her adjusting the phone to rest between her shoulder and her cheek.
“I just quit.”
“No, you didn’t! Did you really?”
“Yes.” The beep of an incoming call comes through again, and I see the same out-of-country number from before. Ignoring it and making a mental note to block it later, I continue my rant to Vinnie. “Shelby’s a royal bitch, and I’ve finally had enough of it.”
“Good for you,” she praises with a small giggle. She’s disliked Shelby for years now. “Dinner to celebrate?”
“Only if we can go dancing after.” I don’t mask the hopefulness in my voice. My best friend is newly pregnant and still battling the ‘everything makes her nauseous’ phase, but I still hope she’ll agree. She’s never been much of a party girl like I am, but every once in a while, I can talk her into coming out with me. “Sly can come too,” I singsong, trying to sweeten the deal. Vinnie and her husband Sly have been inseparable since theytied the knot, and honestly, I can’t blame them. Their love is so scorching, it rivals the sun.
She sighs. “He’ll hate it.”
“Butyou’lllove it! Please come. Please, please, please, please, please.”
“You’re evil.” She laughs, but I can hear the agreement in her voice, which only widens my already growing smile.
“You love me.”
“I do. Text me the details. Dinner plans, what time Sly should meet us at the club, and which one.”
Before she finishes her sentence, the message with all the details pings through to her phone.
Already one step ahead of you, babe.
CHAPTER TWO
Saying yes to tonight was a mistake. I knew that the moment I walked in, but somehow I was talked into joining myfriendsfor a night out.
I say friends very loosely. It’s new and unexpectedly forged.
Yet, I still find myself out with them on a random weeknight, drink in hand, already planning my exit strategy.
There’s a woman sitting on the arm of my leather wingback chair. She’s pretty enough, with straight blonde hair, blue eyes, and ample cleavage, which she tries to thrust in my face as she laughs over the loud music. Her manicured nails hover dangerously close to my neck from where her arm is slung over the back of the chair.
Tossing back the remains of my scotch, I glance next to me to where Sullivan Rochester has a similar-looking woman sitting in his lap as he nurses his drink of choice. Sully is the son of an oil-tycoon and next in line to take over the business, which is insane to me considering the man doesn’t have a serious bone in his body. He has an affinity for beautiful women, a strong drink, and a good time.
“Remind me why I’m here?” I grumble, the vibration of the bass doing wonders on the headache I’ve been battling since after work.
“It’s boys’ night.” Sully flashes me a shit-eating grin. “And you actually came for once.”
“My mistake.”
Across from me, Enzo Lucchetti snorts but refuses to look at me.
