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“Vieux-Carre.”
Judean smiled and leaned forward. “Vieux-Carre? I don’t get many requests for that,” he said of the drink which was made with Rye, Cognac, Sweet Vermouth and a bar spoon each of Angostura and Peychaud’s bitters, served over ice, with a lemon twist. “Unique … like you,” he said, and went to pour her drink.
As she sipped her cocktail, Valencia looked around Purple, still looking to see if she saw Black anywhere, when she made eye contact with Shy. They waved to one another and Shy started to get up. That was when Valencia saw another face that she recognized. It had been years since she’d seen him. In that time, he had gained a little weight, but who hasn’t, and he had grown a beard, and he is wearing it well, but it was definitely him.
“Geno Crocker,” she said softly; and memories of their brief, but intense time together washed over her.
In the closing days of her fashion line, Valencia was strapped for cash. She had drained the dating site dry and both companies were on the verge of bankruptcy. It was during that time that she met Gustavo DeVerão, a wealthy Brazilian businessman who had fallen in love with her at first sight and was doing everything that he could to sweep her off her feet.
It was working.
Gustavo was nice, and he was definitely romantic, he had been showering her with expensive gifts and trips to exotic places. And he was so goddamn sexy. So, Valencia was interested, if not in love. But none of that really mattered at the time because she was trying to save her company, and as free-hearted as Gustavo was with his money, he wasn’t talking about bailing her out.
She had scheduled a number of fashion events trying to get some much-needed capital and perhaps interest a backer. That was when she first saw Geno.
“Valencia,” Shy said when she got to the bar. “Glad you could make it.”
“Hey, Mrs. Black—I mean, Shy. How are you tonight?”
“Great!” Shy said, and Valencia could tell that she’d been drinking. “It’s my girl’s birthday and I am having a ball.” She turned to Judean. “Bring Ms. DeVerão another of whatever she’s drinking, and it is on the house.”
“Yes, Mrs. Black,” he said, and quickly rushed off to fix Valencia another drink.
“I’m not going to stay long. I just wanted to stop in and say hello,” Valencia said, but Shy knew better.
“I know. You came to see Michael.” Shy looked around. “I don’t see him anywhere. But relax and enjoy yourself. I’m sure he’ll come out of hiding sooner or later.” Shy laughed. “But I’m going to get back to my girl to celebrate.”
“You go ahead, enjoy your friend. I’ll be alright,” Valencia said, as Shy walked back to the table.
She took another sip of her drink and looked around for Geno, but he was no longer standing where she’d last seen him.
But he had seen her. When Valencia came through the door at Purple, she got the attention of just about every man in the house, and that included Geno. He didn’t recognize her at first, he simply noticed that a beautiful woman had come in. The longer he stared, admiring her beauty, the more familiar she seemed.
Valencia? he questioned. What would Valencia Porter be doing here? was the question that he asked himself. Couldn’t be her. For a number of reasons, he quickly dismissed that thought; but when she turned and looked in his direction for a brief second, there was no longer any doubt.
In an instant, he was taken back to the night they met. He made a deal to secure and deliver a floating two- carat diamond solitaire pendant necklace to one of the people who was attending Valencia’s fashion event. The connection between them was immediate,
strong, and intensely physical. Before the night was through, Valencia was riding him hard and fast, like she was a jockey in the last furlong at the Kentucky Derby.
Their eyes locked; Valencia waved.
Although he had been watching her every move since she walked in, Geno made out like it was the first time he had seen her, and each began making their way toward the other.
“Hello, Valencia.”
“Hello, Geno,” she said, and gave him a polite hug, but her body, remembering their time together, wanted more. “How have you been doing?”
“You mean after you left me dirt broke and fucked up?” Geno chuckled, and looked around the club. “I’ve been doing all right.”
“I see,” she said of Geno, who was dressed in a gray Herringbone Solaro two-piece suit.
“So what brings you here tonight?” Geno asked, looking around Purple. “This doesn’t seem like your kind of spot.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that small neighborhood bars weren’t your thing,” he said and laughed, thinking that a bunch of gangsters and killers hung out there. “But I guess things can change.”
“Actually, I was invited to the party by Mrs. Black,” Valencia said, pointing in Shy’s direction.
