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As I slipped my phone into my purse, I noticed Howie approaching. He dropped into his chair and signaled for the waitress to bring him another drink, gesturing to my half-empty glass. “You better hurry and catch up,” he said with a smirk.
I forced a tight smile and replied, “I’m good, thanks.”
“So, where were we?” He sniffed and brushed the back of his hand against his nose, his eyes gleaming with a hint of lust. “Right, we were talking about work. You’re an actress, huh? Theater, I assume. You don’t do any other acting?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and sniffed again. This time, when he brushed his nose, I saw a streak of blood on his hand.
He looked down and laughed, a cruel, guttural sound. “Oops.”
He grabbed a napkin and wiped off the blood, tossing the wadded-up paper onto the table without a second thought. The smell of cheap cologne and something else, something sour and acrid, hung heavy in the air.
“That’s disgusting,” I whispered, feeling repulsion crawl up my spine.
“Sorry,” he grinned, and now I saw what I had missed before. There was a small smudge of white powder just under one nostril. Combined with the blood, it was a fairly obvious conclusion that this guy was going to the bathroom to snort coke.
“Now, you’re an actress, but you haven’t made it big yet.” He reached across the table to grab my hand. “Maybe I can help with that.”
I pulled my hand back, my heart racing. “No, thank you.”
“Come on, a little private movie starring you and me,” he leered, his breath hot and foul on my face. “In the right hands, it can do wonders for a person’s career.”
I couldn’t take it any longer. I had to get out of the restaurant and away from Howie. He made my skin crawl, and his suggestion to make a sextape with me was the last straw.
“Listen, buddy,” I said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. “I don’t need your help or your so-called private movie. I’m leaving.” My chair was making a loud noise as I stood up. “And don’t try to stop me.”
But Howie wasn’t done. He reached out and grabbed my wrist, his grip tight. “Come on, don’t be like that. You know you want to stay and have a little fun.”
I jerked my arm away from him, anger flowing through me. “You’re disgusting. I want nothing to do with you.”
He laughed, a cruel sound. “You’ll regret this, sweetheart. You’ll see that you’re throwing away a golden opportunity.”
But I wasn’t listening. I threw a couple of bills on the table to cover my drink, spun around and marched toward the exit, my heart pounding in my chest.
As I burst through the doors of the club and stepped into the cool night air, the feeling of anger still lingered.
The wind was bitterly cold, and I tightened my coat around me, hunching my shoulders as I walked down the sidewalk, keeping my head down. There were no taxis in front of the club. I didn’t think Howie would come after me, but I would not take any risks. I would find a cab further down the street.
I had made it almost a block when it started to rain. Not a nice, warm rain. No, this was a nasty, sleety rain that froze everything it touched and soaked through the fabric in seconds. And not a single taxi in sight.
Dammit.
I turned and saw a warm light shining through a large plate-glass window. George’s Pub. That would be a good place to call a car.
I hurried and ducked inside, as I closed my eyes in relief at the warm air that surrounded me.
And then someone sprayed something all over me.
SIX
SPENCER
“What doyou think of New York so far?” Stan Longley spread his arms wide, as if to encompass the entire city. “A day is hardly enough time to see everything we offer, but it’s a good start, isn’t it?”
After arriving in New York only yesterday, Stan appeared early this morning at my hotel, insisting on giving me a tour of his city.
“It’s quite the sight,” I said, watching the neon lights of Times Square flicker and glow, casting a colorful aura over the bustling crowds of people. The sounds of honking cars and chatter filled the evening air as we walked down the crowded sidewalk. The busy energy of the city was invigorating but also overwhelming for me, who had just arrived from London the day before and was still feeling jet-lagged. “But I should let you know I went to Columbia University, so this isn’t my first time in the city.”
“Oh, I see. You’re a seasoned New Yorker then,” Stan said with a chuckle. “Well, I hope I could show you something new today.”
“Oh, yes,” I said with a grin. “I have to admit, it has changed little since I lived here. It’s still as busy and vibrant as ever.”
