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She swans off, and I accept the delivery and head back inside. The roses are gorgeous, but there’s a card perched on top. From Le Rouge florist, just like Olivia said.
J- Sorry about last night. We will pick up where we left off. – C
Oh, will we?
Anger rises, hot in my veins. He may be sexy as hell, but he’s also a shady, unfeeling asshole.
And I’ve had enough of being his plaything.
* * *
An hour later,I’m at a local bar with Kelsey, drinking Caleb right off my mind. Not that there’s enough tequila in the world to make me forget his commanding blue eyes… Or that delicious dominating voice.
“So, he sends you flowers, he calls you numerous times and you do… What, again?” Kelsey asks.
“Nothing,” I snap, shoving my phone into my bag.
Three texts from Caleb, each one telling me to call him, getting increasingly more demanding.
She gives me a look. “But it’s Caleb Sterling.”
“I don’t care if it’s God. I can’t do this. I have to work with him.”
She runs a fingertip over the rim of her margarita and licks the salt off. “You have more willpower than most women in the city, girl. I guarantee it’d take a lot less for them to drop their panties.”
My willpower is not nearly as impressive as she thinks. I shift on my stool and scan the bar, desperate for something to help get Caleb Sterling out of my head. This is my second margarita, and so far, all it’s done is make me want him more.
“Distract me,” I tell her. Kelsey sees something behind me and smirks.
“I have just the thing.”
I turn—and a guy strolling over to us. He’s the polar opposite of Caleb: Hot, in that rough-around-the-edges way, with stubble on his jaw and tattoos peeking out from under the sleeves of his vintage Rolling Stones T-shirt.
Still… It’s not Caleb.
“Don’t look now, but a major babe is on his way,” Kelsey says under her breath.
As much as I want to be in the mood to flirt, I’m not. “He’s all yours.”
“Sorry,” she says, grabbing her purse and shoving off the stool. “I’ve got to go to the ladies’.”
Great. Abandoned. I groan as he approaches.
“Hi there,” he says, flashing me a charming grin. “Can I get you another drink?”
I don’t look at him. “I don’t think so. I’ll be throwing up in the parking lot.”
He laughs. “That’s because you’re drinking all that sugar. You need a real drink. Two whiskeys,” he says, already ordering from the bartender.
“Really, I’m fine.”
“Then more for me.” He smiles.
“I’m Logan,” he says, extending a hand.
I force myself to shake it. “Juliet.”
He studies me a moment, then snaps his fingers. “I’ve seen you before.”
