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“No sweat.” Sam reaches to give Drew another slap on the back, but he soon retracts, thinking better of it. “I don’t mind sharing my millions with you. I don’t like seeing you stressed, man.”
Drew finishes his drink and stands, fixing his suit. I don’t know why. It’ll be ripped off in a few minutes, given a willing woman or two will be waiting for him in the communal room. “The answer to my problems isn’t to quit. I own the fucking company. But do you know whatisthe answer?” he asks, and we both tilt our heads. “Fucking.” He stalks out of the bar. “The answer is to fuck.”
I laugh as Mario slides a glass toward me, and my amusement dries up in a nanosecond. I stare at the clear liquid. It isn’t water. I swallow as I push it back to him, feeling Sam’s eyes on my profile. “Thanks, Mario, but I’m not drinking.”
There’s no mistaking his shock, and I can feel Sam’s beside me. And then an awkward silence. I look out the corner of my eye to my mate. He looks like a deer caught in the headlights. “Not drinking?” he eventually manages.
I shrug, accepting the water Mario has replaced the vodka with. “It’s no big deal,” I say, but we both know it’s a huge deal.
“That’s great, man.” Sam offers a small smile, but reading past his cute, boyish expression, I know he’s desperate to ask more. “Good for you.”
“Thanks.” I’d better get used to this reaction.
“And you’ve been staying at your own place more,” he points out casually. “Is that no big deal too?”
“No big deal,” I reiterate, and he grins.
“Nothing to do with the pretty little thing who was here on Friday?”
I get up, not prepared to be interrogated. I’ll get that enough from John and Sarah. “No big deal,” I say again, striding away.
“Hey, Jesse,” he calls, pulling me to a stop by the door. He toasts the air, his face now straight. “When you’re done with her, I wouldn’t mind a little play with her in the communal room.”
I could have just been electrocuted, my entire being vibrating, my jaw feeling like it could snap. My fists ball. “Forget it,” I virtually growl, my chest expanding.
Sam’s expressionlessness face transforms into a shit-eating grin. “No big deal,” he says, that smile wrapping around the neck of his bottle as he takes a swig.Fucker.
I flip him a snarl and leave. Ava in the communal room? I shudder. Fuck, no. Ava inanyroom here? Not a fucking chance. Unless I’m with her. And we’re alone.
My pace increases, my aggravation uncontainable, and I enter my office and slam the door, forcing my breathing to straighten out. “You look like you’re about to launch something,” John says from the couch, where he’s fiddling with a small box.
“What are you doing?” I ask irritably.
He holds up a little device. “Fixing the CCTV hard drive. Who’s rattled your cage?”
“No one.” I find my way to my desk and slump down into my chair as John shakes his head, going back to his task. “What’s happening?” I ask, trying to steer things away from my simmering rage. Fuck me, that caught me off guard. But it was unstoppable. Completely unstoppable. “And where’s Sarah?”
As if she heard me, she appears at the door.
“There,” John says without looking up.
“Oh, the hobo returns.” She saunters across to my desk and takes a seat.
I’d tell her to fuck off if my conscience would allow it. I pull my laptop forward and start working my way through emails. She can’t be here when Ava is here. She’ll sniff her out. Potentially ruin my strategy, and I need all possible obstacles out of my way. “What are you doing around seven this evening?” I ask, keeping my eyes on the screen, all casual.
“Why?”
“I need a favor.”
“What?”
Fuck. What do I need?Think, Ward, think.“Packing,” I blurt, peeking up at her. I smile, mild and awkward, hearing John chuckle under his breath. He can fuck off.
“You want me to pack up your rental?” she asks, as insulted as she should be.
“Yeah.”
“You hardly ever stay there. Until recently,” she adds, her face accusing. John chuckles again, and I throw him a contemptuous glare. “What do you need packed?”
