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his face told me I might not want to know.
“There’s something that you need to know, Gabriel.”
“Like what?” I asked, looking at Neil, who was studying his own glass of whiskey with a frown. “Come on then. Spit it out. I’ve got a few sips down, if that’s what you’re waiting for.”
“It’s about your ex-wife and ex-best friend,” he said.
I stiffened in shock to hear those words coming out of Neil’s mouth. He didn’t know either one of them personally. As usual, a bitter anger tore through me whenever the subject was brought up.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I demanded, setting my glass down on the table harshly. “How do you know them?”
Neil held up his hands in a universal sign of peace. “I don’t know them, man. Don’t shoot the messenger.”
“What is going on Neil?”
“They’re coming into Chicago,” he said. “To have a meeting with some government folks about what to expect with U.S. spending. They are pitching for a contract to predict consumer behavior for the next year, given the shit state the economy is in.”
“Bastards,” I blurted out, shaking my head while fury rose in me. “First, Jack Miller stole my original research for predicting consumer spending, and then he stole my wife. Now they are going after the contract we are pushing for?”
“I’m just letting you know before anyone else tells you,” Neil said grimly. “The only reason why I found out is because I called in to check on when we needed to have our shit together. They informed me that there was another company also giving input, and when they told me who it was, I had to tell you right away.”
A headache throbbed in my temples, then. I would need something much stronger to get through the night to kill the dark anger now rising up in me all over again.
“We are going to go over everything next week,” I said. “Triple check everything. I don’t care if we have to stay in the office all day and night, either. They aren’t going to get the contract.”
Neil nodded as he sipped at his whiskey. “I figured that. I’ll send out an email to everyone first thing in the morning to let them know what we are preparing to do. It’s going to be fine, Gabriel. You’re the best at what you do.”
“Jack Miller is no slouch either,” I replied coldly. “Especially since I taught him everything he knows.”
“He’s a piece of shit. I don’t know how many people actually enjoy his company besides your ex-wife.” He grimaced at the sharp look I gave him. “They’re both perfect for each other.”
I downed the last of whiskey before raising my glass to gain the waiter’s attention. “No shit. They aren’t going to get that contract, though.”
“We’ll make sure of it, Gabriel. Don’t worry. Have another glass of whiskey. Relax.”
I couldn’t relax, though. The ache in my groin was prominent now. I refused to let myself go there with thoughts of Penny still lingering in my head. I kept wondering what was inside of the Victoria’s Secret bag that she had carried with her to lunch. Now, I needed something much stronger to deal with the tumult of emotions raging inside of me.
“I need something stronger than alcohol,” I commented dryly. “You going to stay behind for a little bit?”
Neil sighed at me in exasperation. “You know, it amazes me how a man like you can get laid so often when you want it.”
“How is that amazing?” I asked, laughing. “I know that I look like some game nerd who stumbled into money.”
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about.” Neil reached into his back pocket to pull out his wallet. He tossed a crisp fifty-dollar bill on the table. “I told Marissa that I would be back home after talking with you to help with the kids. Try to stay out of trouble while I’m gone.”
I scanned the room absently as Neil rose from the table. “Yeah, make sure to say hello for me, and a Merry Christmas, too.”
The VIP lounge was full of the usual sights I had gotten used to over the years. Rich and snobby women who thought they were more important than others. Some of them were half plastic to keep ahold of their youth, while a few other women lingering about the bar appeared to be so young that I briefly wondered if their IDs were fake. I had standards. Even if people didn’t believe it, I didn’t nail young women that I met at the clubs. I tried to stay clear of that sort of situation.
Picking up my glass, I tossed a fifty-dollar bill on the table as well and headed into the thick of the club. The thrum of music and energy crashed over me as I downed another drink before setting it on the bar top. I scanned the dancing crowd in the neon lights in front of the DJ before taking a seat on a bar stool to wait patiently for someone to catch my interest.
The swing of long, luxurious blonde hair caught my attention further down the bar. A tall and petite blonde was perched delicately on the edge of a bar stool, dressed in a black mini dress that seemed to just wrap around her in all the right ways. It revealed long and toned legs that were clad in dark nylons that disappeared in a pair of teetering heels. That was the type of woman that I could take back to a hotel tonight to fuck.
“That’ll do,” I muttered and hopped off the bar stool with a new drink in hand.
I approached the blonde-haired woman with ease and confidence. Taking a seat next to her, I noted the glass of wine as her choice of drink. Classy. For night club standards, anyway.
“I’d be happy to buy your next glass if—"
