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“I was the one who was insulted.”
“Your position here is terminated. I want you out of my club immediately.”
Laughter erupts from the group of men who humiliated me. This night can’t possibly get any worse. I walk straight to the back room. The game I began is over. I just want to leave.
Throwing a thick coat over my clothes, I wipe away the tear streaking down my face, grab my purse, and slip out the back door. I don’t make it two feet before I hear a whistle.
“Where are you off to in such a hurry, babe?”
A tremble runs through me when I hear his voice again. I’m grateful to be in the shadows as I turn to face Tyler Astor for the second time this evening.
“I’m not your babe,” I grate out.
“Wait! Don’t go. I need to talk to you.” Does he know who I am?
The alley’s dark, making it impossible to read Tyler’s expression. I need to turn and walk away — hell, stomp away is more like it — but for some reason, I wait. I want to know what game he’s playing. I’m more of a fool than I’ve given myself credit for.
“What do you want?”
“I was an asshole in there. I only did it so my friend would quit pawing at you like that. I could see it was making you uncomfortable.”
“Why should you care? If you have friends like that it says a lot about your own character.”
“Because we’re at a gentleman’s club. We should act as such.” I’m too stumped to know how to deal with this remark.
“You’re drunk,” I tell him. “I suggest you go home.” I turn away.
“Wait!”
I stop again. What is wrong with me? “I really want to get out of here. I just got manhandled by your friend, dissed, and then fired, though to be fair I was aiming to get fired, but not so publicly. I’ve had better days.” He’s suddenly in front of me. I take a step back, and my heart’s hammering in my chest. He’s far too close.
“Come have a drink with me. You can talk about it. I’m a good listener.”
He lifts his hand and trails his fingers down the side of my cheek, making a shiver race through my body. I’m not a little girl any longer, and this isn’t a childhood crush.
“There’s no way I’m going back into that place,” I say. My voice and body are trembling with disgust.
“I have my car right here. Come sit with me and have a drink.”
His voice is mesmerizing, and without much thought I find my hand in his as he leads me to the car. It isn’t until we climb into the backseat — it isn’t a car, dammit; it’s a limo — and I have a glass with amber liquor in my hand that I realize what I’m doing.
“What about your friends?”
“They’re going to be busy for a while. They won’t notice I’m gone.”
“Is it a special occasion?”
“My buddy’s getting married,” he says with a laugh. “We’ll celebrate next at his divorce.”
“That’s an odd thing to say.” I drink the brandy and don’t think twice when he refills my glass. I’m too pleased with the way it helps numb my overwrought emotions after such a dreadful evening. A buzz isn’t such a bad thing.
“I don’t believe in matrimony,” he begins. “My parents’ marriage was a disaster. No, the worddisastercan’t possibly capture the depths of that relationship and the way it turned out. And I don’t see the point to a piece of paper. We all make our own paths. I choose to be free. Besides, I’m not very trusting.”
“I’m probably too trusting,” I say with a sheepish smile. “Some people say trust is something that has to be earned. I disagree. I think trust should be given freely until a person proves unworthy.”
“Hmm. That’s interesting,” Tyler says as he moves next to me on the seat.
“What are you doing?” My breathing grows erratic as he puts his hand on my leg.
