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What the hell am I gonna do at The Ensemble? Drink like all the others, wake up with a terrible hangover, and waste tomorrow?
“The Ensemble it is,” the driver nods, and then he drives off.
Oh, what the hell. It’s not like a single night is going to ruin my life. Besides, Mary’s right: I work way too hard for way too long. Maybe a night of drinks will do me some good.
By the time the cab stops in front of The Ensemble, a small jazz bar everyone at the hospital seems to love, I’ve already reconsidered turning back and going home a thousand times. But I’m not a quitter, so I just pay the driver and step out of the car. Well, at least I have a nice dress on and won’t look like a dork.
Hurrying toward the bar so that I can escape the cold Manhattan breeze, I step inside. I was expecting to hear a chorus of drunken nurses and doctors, but the place is almost deserted. There are only a few couples sprinkled here and there in the dimly lit room, and they’re all talking in hushed tones.
Just great. The day I decide to meet Mary and the rest of the guys for drinks, it’s the day they decide to go somewhere else.
Sighing, I sit by the counter and take my phone out of my purse. I’m about to call Mary when a deep voice interrupts my train of thought.
“So, he bailed on you?”
“What?” I ask, raising my gaze to meet the hottest bartender I have ever seen. Impeccably dressed in an immaculate white shirt, unbuttoned at the top, he looks like he just stepped out of a billboard ad.
His hair is tousled, but carefully arranged at the same time, and there’s an easy smile on his lips. Taller than me, he has the kind of body that makes me believe he could easily throw me over his shoulder and carry me into his bedroom for a good session of—
Stop right there, Sam! I admonish myself, trying to get my mind out of the gutter. Not an easy thing, if we take into account that I haven’t had sex for…oh, I don’t even know.
“Did he bail on you?” he repeats.
“Who?”
“Your date.”
“Oh…no,” I start, feeling warm blood rushing to my cheeks. “I’m not here on a date.”
He smiles then, a glint on his eyes, and my heart goes wild.
“Lucky me, then.”
Two
Brad
Some women are smart, some women are hot. Some are funny, others seductive. But some women are just…something else entirely. They’re part of a rare breed of women, the kind that knock the air out of your lungs the moment your eyes meet theirs.
And one of those women has just walked into my bar.
Elegant strut, tight-fitting dress, and the kind of face capable of turning a cold-blooded asshole into a romantic wimp.
“Brad,” I say, offering her my hand. Hesitantly, she reaches for it and shakes it.
“Sam,” she tells me, the sound of her voice so sweet that I can’t help but imagine how she’d sound like moaning out my name.
What? It’s not my fault I have an active imagination. Besides, sex isn’t dirty and taboo anymore, right? Yeah, we’re not in the 19th century anymore—and thank god for that.
“So, who did exactly bail on you?”
/> “Why do you say that?” she asks me, and I can tell by her guarded tone she’s not used to being approached by men.
Which is weird—she’s a beautiful woman and, more than that, she’s fucking hot. And that can only mean one thing…this girl doesn’t go out that much. Like I said: a rare breed of women, that much is for sure.
“Well, you have that look on your face.”
“What look?”
