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“Most women assume we want their men.” Rolling my eyes, I took a deep breath. “As hot as their man might be, most of us don’t want to be with him.”
“Understandable.”
“Our job is to make both men and women feel good about themselves, but once my shift is over, I want to go home to my own man, not their man.”
“Have you ever dated a customer?”
“I mean, yeah, but he wasn’t my customer.” My eyes lowered. “My recent ex was a frequent customer, but that isn’t how we officially met.”
“I see.”
It felt as if he were judging me a bit. Like my profession was a downgrade for Alejandro’s tastes. It was my turn to learn about him.
“What about you?” I tasted my coffee, attempting to appear engaged in our topic.
“I live in New York and work on Wall Street. That’s about all there is to know about me.”
“And how did you meet Ian?” I’d never heard of him. I’d been friends with him and Jenna for a while now. Even before Jenna came to Euphoria, I’d never seen Alejandro there. I would’ve remembered a face as handsome as his.
“Last year, someone in my family told me Ian needed help with some things, so I reached out.”
“Vague.” Teasing, I narrowed my gaze. “And, what about family?”
“What about them?” He mimicked my expression.
“Do you have living parents? Siblings? Kids? How old are you?”
“I’m thirty-six.” His demeanor changed. “My parents are both dead. I have no kids.”
“Oh, I’m sor—”
“It’s okay.” He sighed, digging his fingertips into his temples. “It was just a really gruesome situation and hard to talk about with new people.”
Gruesome?!After that response, I didn’t dare ask more.
“It’s still a bit new,” he leaned forward, muttering, “sorry.”
* * *
CHANCE
Standing in the kitchen with a glass of Grey Goose vodka in my hand, I thumbed through photos of Amber and me on my phone, once again tormenting my wrecked heart.Why did I punish myself like this?I couldn’t bring myself to delete the pictures and move on. I wanted to call her and properly apologize for my actions, even if it meant she’d never forgive me.
I was drunk once again, chain smoking as I stumbled to the pool. Sitting on a long pool chair, I opened my contacts, hovering my thumb over her name. “God, I miss you so fucking much, baby.” I missed her, drunk. I missed her, sober. I missed her when I was sleeping. No matter how hard I tried to get her out of my head, she was there, tormenting me.
Finally, I got the courage to call her and put it on speaker. Holding the phone in front of me, I stared at her gorgeous contact photo on the screen.
Hello?
Amberrr, we need to t-talk. Oh no! I slurred my drunken words into the phone, unaware I was so wasted until I heard my own voice.
Chance, I’m not doing this with you! You’re drunk.
Please hhhhhear me o-out, I pleaded.I didn’tfffuck anyone!
Chance, you’re always drunk and I’m over this and you, okay?Immediately, she gasped.
Fuck. She left my mouth hanging open in shock. Tears welled in my eyes.
