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Lizzy must have noticed too. A few games later, when no one took him on, she stopped dancing and sashayed over to him. With the music and other noise of the bar, I couldn’t hear what they said before she took a cue stick from the available ones on the wall.
Trying not to all-out stare, I watched in horror when his head did a quick shake no and he strode off toward the door. Slipping on his jacket, he headed outside, leaving my best friend stunned. The narrowing of her eyes indicated how pissed she was.
Once she caught my gaze, she straightened her features and headed over. “You ready to blow?” she asked.
Hell, I’d been ready to leave long ago. Because she didn’t bring him up, I didn’t either. “Yeah,” I said.
After paying the tab, we headed out and there he was, on a tricked-out Harley, smoking a cigarette. Lizzy, unperturbed, strode to the street to hail a cab, which was unlike her as she used Uber on the regular. I followed as she ignored Striker and the other man he was speaking to, though I knew better. The guy standing with Striker did take notice and approached us.
“I can give you a ride,” the guy said to Lizzy with a broad smirk, eyeing her up and down.
“Don’t bother with the princess,” Striker said.
“Why not?” the guy said. “I’d bend a knee to get some of that.”
Lizzy gave the guy a coy smile. Striker revved his engine to life and said in words that could be heard over the noise, “A girl like her only wants to brag to her friends about slumming.” And he peeled off.
“Bastard,” Lizzy called after him, losing her cool.
“Hey, I don’t mind if you slum with me,” the guy said.
Rolling her eyes, she raised her hand and hailed the passing cab, which came to a stop next to us. I slid into the back seat next to her, speechless, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Never had I seen a guy so blatantly turn her down. I was at a loss as to what I should or should not say to my best friend. What had just happened was so unprecedented. The way Striker had so summarily shut her down made me think about the ever-elusive Kalen and what he was doing at that very moment.
Twenty-Five
The cab ride home was quiet. It was late, well past midnight, and Lizzy headed straight for her room despite my words of encouragement: He’s an asshole. You deserve better.
Alone in my room, the cold sheets kept me awake. I wanted Kalen instead of empty space.
My fitful sleep was filled with dreams of him. In them, I stood on the lush green plains of the Highlands as my kilted Scotsman rode off into battle, no doubt conjured up by the historical romance novel I’d been reading. It only left me wanting more of him.
Morning wasn’t much better. Lizzy was gone. She’d left a note that Hans was taking her to a photo shoot and after they planned to head off somewhere for a picnic.
Again, I was envious of the easy way she bounced back from the night before.
To keep my mind busy, I decided to work from home. I wrote up my findings with the list of transactions and the staging number they totaled. I hadn’t decided if I should just send it to Scott or include the partner-in-charge on the email. Scott would consider it a betrayal if I did. But this was way bigger than both of us, if I was right. If I was wrong, it could spell the end of my career. The best option was to talk it through with Scott on Monday, then decide.
I hand wrote a letter to my mother I would mail. It had been a while and I missed her and my siblings. Not wanting to live in the community permanently didn’t mean I didn’t miss it. My life there hadn’t been bad.
By five, my stomach was all aflutter. Up until that point, I hadn’t been sure what to wear. I stood in the mirror, having showered and put on makeup, which for me probably took longer than it did for most since I didn’t wear it every day.
I held up two dresses, one black and one nearly white. Both from Lizzy. She’d left a few choices hanging on my door. I chose the strapless black with the slit to the thigh. With Lizzy being so tall, I had to pair it with stiletto heels so the hem didn’t drag on the floor.
A call from the downstairs didn’t precede the knock on my door. Yet I wasn’t surprised to see Kalen on the other side. I opened the door to find him wearing a crisp white shirt, bowtie, and dark jacket and pants. He looked classically handsome with his dark hair neatly tousled on his head.
