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We headed out, and I hailed a cab, pulling her in beside me. She took a deep breath and put her fingers on her temples. "Lord, I'm drunk. How did I get drunk so fast?"
"You did four back-to-back shots of tequila and drank one and a half whiskey and cokes. Did you eat today?"
She pursed her lips. "No, I was far too busy."
I chuckled. "That's probably why. Don't worry. It'll be a wild ride for the next couple of hours, but you should sober up pretty quickly after that. You might feel like someone ran you over with a train, but you'll be sober."
She groaned and looked up. "Why aren't we zoom zooming on your bike?"
"It's not available right now," I said, glancing out the window. "It was in the garage where they found my friend."
Her head snapped toward me, and she reached over, patting me on the hand. "I'm sorry for that. Sicily told me. Is he okay?"
I nodded. "He has a bump on the head, some bruises where the tape was, and that's about it. He doesn't really remember any of it."
She shook her head, wobbling from side to side. "That's so crazy. I don't know how you do it. I would be terrified. But you're a big, muscular, strong guy. So I guess you don't have to be scared."
I chuckled. "I guess."
We pulled up to the complex, and I took the side entrance, taking her up to my apartment. When we walked in, she stopped, staring up at the motorcycle hanging from the ceiling. "Wow. That's cool."
"Thanks," I said, picking up the shoes she had taken off, one at a time.
I took her arm and led her down into the living room, sitting her on the couch. "I'm gonna make some coffee. Just sit right here. The bathroom is that first door in the hallway if you need it."
She nodded, reaching up and hooking her finger into the collar of my shirt. "Hey. You're not so bad after all. But don't tell anybody I said that."
I laughed and nodded, taking her hand and gently placing it back down. I couldn't help but notice how demure and soft they were. Even with her hair a bit wild, she was beautiful. I headed to the kitchen and made some coffee for her, bringing out some milk and sugar. She was sitting on the couch, her head laid back, her eyes staring up at the ceiling.
"I didn't know how you took your coffee," I said. "I'm sorry, I only have milk and sugar. I drink mine black."
She sat up, a little more stable than when I left her. "Black is fine. Do you mind if I use your restroom really fast?"
"Sure," I said, reaching out with one hand to help her up. "It's right there."
She looked at me and smiled before taking off, shutting the door behind her. She was in there for about forty-five minutes, but I put the television on so she wasn't embarrassed when she came out. When Amber opened the door, she was wearing one of my button-ups, standing barefoot, with her hair pulled back and tied in a not. Her eyes were a bit red, but she was walking straight again.
"You feel better?"
She took a deep breath, wiping her lips. "I don't know about better, but soberer, yes. I used your mouthwash. I'm sorry I didn't ask. And…I needed something to put on."
I shook my head. "It's fine. Whatever you need."
She plopped down next to me, and I handed her the blanket hanging over the back of the couch. She covered her long legs and looked around. "Well, it's good to know you don't have four bikes hanging from your ceiling."
I laughed. "No. Just one. Do you want coffee or some water?"
"This is great," she said, taking the cup from me. "I'm sorry. I don't normally act that way. I mean, I'm a bitch, but not a sloppy drunk bitch."
"It's alright," I said with a chuckle. "Everybody has those days. You wanna talk about it?"
She rolled her eyes as she took a sip of her coffee. "Ugh. I am such an asshole. I was learning how to run my father's company, thinking my brother would take over one day. Instead, I was called into a board meeting to be told that he isn't taking over when my father retires in three months. That he is going his own way. But they want me to take over for my father."
"That's big news," I said. "Congrats."
She nodded. "Thanks. But I doubt it will happen. One of the stipulations is that I have to show stability. I have to give off the appearance of family and strength to the public. And they require me to be married by the time my father retires, or they will hire from the outside. So, basically, my father's company, one that's been in our family for a long time, won't be run by us anymore."
I shook my head. "What kind of barbaric nonsense is that?"
