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“There you are,” she says and kisses me on both cheeks. “Mr. Handsome’s here. Feast your eyes.”
“Good,” I say. “I was counting on him showing up tonight.” I follow her over to the bar, where she gets me a drink.
“Vodka tonic with lime, right?”
I nod and accept the glass, taking a big sip.
Then, I see him enter the room from a side door, and it’s like the parting of the Dead Sea, as people get out of his way.
A tall man with blond hair follows him, leaning over slightly, speaking into Harrison’s ear like he’s imparting some kind of wisdom.
Harrison nods all business-like. They stand and face each other, Harrison’s hands on his hips like he’s deep in thought, while the other man speaks.
He can’t even party when he’s at a party — sounds like the Harrison I have come to know in the brief time since we met.
He turns around, rubbing his jaw, which is, of course, perfectly chiseled, and covered with just the right amount of scruff. His dark hair falls into his eyes — his very deep blue eyes — over a straight blade of a nose, with full lips finishing the perfect visage.
He scans the club, and then finally, his gaze comes to rest on Lisa and then, on me.
I swear I see him stiffen, like it’s an affront that I’m even here. His expression darkens, and he frowns while placing his hand on his friend’s shoulder as if to shut him up.
He speaks to his friend for a few moments, his head bowed, and then he turns away, marching to a raised dais where several women are seated.
I thought that when he saw me, he’d be happy, and would come right over. What we have is more than just a one-night stand. I can tell.
So, his clear rejection and immediate turning away feels like a dagger in my chest.
My hopes are dashed.
The blond friend comes over to where Lisa and I stand, drinks in hand.
“Please come with me,” the young man says. He has this boyish look to him, blue eyes, blond hair, dark blue suit, crisp white shirt. A young Brad Pitt. He motions to the front entrance.
“Who are you?” I ask, not willing to be ordered around.
“I’m Chase Arnold, and I’m one of the owners of Nuage. Please come with me.”
I glance at Lisa, and she raises her eyebrows. “You better go.”
I hesitate. “I signed an NDA. Why do I have to leave?”
Chase waves again towards the door. “Please. I don’t want a scene.”
I decide that I better cooperate, so I follow him back up the stairs to the front entrance.
When we’re in the dark alcove by the front desk, he stops me.
“Who invited you to join the club?”
“Lisa,” I say. “She’s a friend.”
He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, but you need to leave.”
“Why?”
“Membership is at my discretion,” he replies. “Remember that you signed the NDA, so you are prohibited from speaking of the events of this night. Please leave.”
“Is it because of Harrison O’Connor?” I ask, as he takes my arm and gently pushes me to the desk. “I had no idea he was a member,” I lie.
