Page 296 of Two Weeks of Sin


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“Tracy,” he said, standing up to greet the petite blonde. “What a pleasure to see – ”

“Save it, Gavin,” she said, looking over at me. “I see I've been replaced already. That sure didn't take long.”

“Excuse me?” I said, standing up. “I'm not dating him, I – ”

But the woman named Tracy wasn't having any of it. She picked up the glass of wa

ter on the table and tossed it in Gavin’s face.

“You're no different than Tyler, you son of a bitch,” she spat. She turned to me and shook her head. “This man, he's nothing but a lying, cheating, pig. I hope you know that.”

“Tracy, come on,” Gavin called out to her. All eyes were on us, and I suddenly felt extremely exposed. I just stared at Gavin with wide eyes and my mouth hanging open.

“Who was that?” I asked quietly. “An ex-girlfriend?”

“No, we never dated, I swear,” he said. “It's complicated. But let's go. I don't feel like being the evening’s entertainment anymore.”

He dropped payment for our drinks down on the table and took my hand, leading me from the bar while everyone stared at us as we left. It felt weird for him to be holding my hand, but I let him lead the way to the valet station. Tracy was yelling at one of the attendants, who was doing his best to pacify her.

“Sir, I'm afraid she managed to stab one of your tires with a steak knife before we could stop her,” one of the other attendants said. “The police have already been called.”

“Well that was an interesting night, to say the least,” I said as we walked back to his office. “I'm sorry about your car.”

“Yeah, me too,” he said with a chuckle. “Hard to believe a woman I'm not even dating could be that crazy. But, it is what it is, I suppose.”

He'd had his car towed to a nearby shop to get the tires replaced. Tracy had managed to get a knife into two of them before the police arrived. She'd also managed to scratch and dent a door as she fought with the valet attendants.

“Can't imagine what would have happened if she’d actually been your girlfriend,” I said.

“Oh no. No way would I ever date someone like her,” he said.

“Oh really? She seemed exactly your type,” I teased. “Blonde, perfect body, beautiful, and sassy.”

“There's more to a beautiful woman than blonde hair and a good body,” he said. “And besides, I prefer classy over sassy any day.”

Yeah, right. I side-eyed him because I doubted he'd date anyone seriously – much less someone who wasn't a blonde bombshell. He had a reputation as a player – one he didn't really seem to care to hide all that well.

“Seriously,” he said. “If I were to date someone again, she'd have to be smart, well-educated, and able to keep calm under pressure. Because as you know, I can be a real asshole at times, and I can't afford to replace my tires every time I dare speak to another woman.”

At least Gavin could laugh about his own dickish behavior, I had to give him some credit for that. When we got back to the office, I offered to drive him home.

“Nah, I'm just going to call an Uber,” he said. “Go home, it's late.”

“You sure? I don’t mind.”

“Go,” he said. “I've kept you late enough. It's the weekend. You shouldn't have to see me again until Monday.”

“Well thank you for an interesting night,” I said, opening my car door. “I actually had a good time.”

“Your idea of a good time and mine might be a little different,” he teased.

“You tried at least,” I said.

“You're way too nice, Morgan. Do you know that?”

It was a compliment – a sincere one at that. I found myself blushing from the weight of his gaze as he stared into my eyes.

“Nicer than I deserve, I know that for a fact,” he continued.

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