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The last timeJulian had entered this hotel was the night of Skylar’s charity awards banquet. That night the main event had been in the ballroom. Tonight, he was headed to the exclusive bar off the side of the lobby, where a large crowd had gathered. Back then, when he’d wanted to capture Skylar’s attention, he’d worn his red tuxedo, designed to make a show and stand out. Tonight? A charcoal grey business suit. Plain. Unassuming. Designed to make him blend in with the crowd. It was a Tom Ford, so he still looked a step above most of the men in the room, but only if you looked. Then, he wanted to make a statement. Tonight, he wanted to get in, get what he wanted, and get out.
Julian entered the bar and immediately regretted it. He’d been granted an invitation to the retirement bash for Jason Reeder, one of the bigwig CEOs in the finance world, but only because Julian rubbed elbows with these people, and they thought he was good to have around. He’d come to do what he always did, listen to gossip and rumors and innuendo.
People thought they could wine and dine him, and he’d give them special treatment in the press. They were wrong.
He never gave anyone special treatment. His subjects were all treated the same, from the evil shits who made billions off the backs of slave labor to the saints who gave all of themselves for the betterment of others.
So yes, it made professional sense for him to be here. But he wasn’t kidding himself, either.
Mostly he was here because he hadn’t been able to stand one more night in his penthouse by himself. Since he last saw Skylar, he’d been a veritable shut-in. He worked from home, and he didn’t take any calls that weren’t work-related. Certainly not from women and not even Marcus, who’d called and confirmed by text that it wasn’t an emergency.
When he wasn’t working, he was filled with memories, dreams, fantasies—every single one—of Skylar. And like a glutton for punishment, when he had them, he gave his mind free reign. And his body, too.
He’d never jacked off so much in his life as he’d done in the past two weeks.
All to—ding, ding, give the winner a prize—memories, dreams, and fantasies of Skylar.
He needed reprieve, so here he was.
The bartender caught his eye. “What can I get for you, sir?”
“Macallan 18.” Julian pulled out his credit card, but the bartender waved his hand.
“Open bar tonight, sir. Mr. Reeder’s treat.”
Julian slid the credit card to the bartender anyway. “I’m a reporter. I pay for my own drinks.”
The bartender nodded, and when he returned with Julian’s drink and his receipt, he grinned when Julian handed him a hundred-dollar bill as a tip.
“Thank you, sir.”
“No, thank you.” Julian signed the bill and then said, “Keep the tab open. And if you see me with an empty glass in my hand, feel free to get me another.”
The bartender moved off to help another customer, and Julian leaned against the bar, looking around at the crowd.
“Shit.” The expletive came out of his mouth before he could stop it. There, at the end of the bar, laughing far too loudly for the environment was the Asshole.
AKA, Rex Lingstoni.
This was a bad sign.
Maybe he should leave.
He’d turned his back to Asshole when Rex’s laughter increased. Despite Julian telling himself not to look, he glanced over at Skylar’s ex-fiancé. The man was already plastered and was hitting on a cocktail waitress. He grinned when the waitress rolled her eyes as she walked away from Rex.
Undeterred, Rex turned to a woman in a business suit on his left, checked out her tits with the subtlety of a rhinoceros, then sloppily introduced himself and asked to buy the woman a drink.
Julian sighed. This night was going from bad to worse, and in under ten minutes. He’d finish his drink then go home. Put on some blues. Drink a better bottle of scotch as he listened to John Lee Hooker playing the guitar and admit in his velvety voice that it served him right to suffer and to be alone.
Who knew they had so much in common?
Julian downed his drink in two swallows and was about to get up when Skylar walked into the room.
49
“Fancy crowd,” Kelly said in Skylar’s ear as they entered.
Skylar glanced around. Expensive business suits, designer cocktail dresses, and flashy jewelry abounded. Laughter filled the space, along with loud voices, all adding to the cacophony. “Very fancy.”
