“Andi!” Sara whispered. At least, it sounded like a whisper compared to all the noise around us. She nudged me, hard, in the boob. I think she was aiming for my arm, but we’d had enough cocktails, I couldn’t be absolutely sure what she was trying to do. “There is a super-hot guy at your 6:00 who can’t stop staring at you. Wait. He’s at your 7:00. Nope. 8:30. 9:00 or 9:15 now.” Great, he was circling. Like a shark. Or maybe he was just on his way to the bar, which was somewhere around here. I think.
“He’s probably a music producer who was so amazed by my karaoke performance that he wants me to sign with his record label.”
Sara laughed. “Our bad karaoke was at the last bar. Or two ago.”
“It was?” Well, would you look at that? Nope! Nope, don’t look at that—looking at that made me dizzy. “You’re right. This place is a lot blurrier than the last place we were in. Where are we again?” I could’ve asked ‘when are we’ because I didn’t know the answer to that question either. Actually, between the guy at my 9:00 or 9:15 or wherever he was, and the darkness inside the bar, I knew exactly what time it was—one drink past too many.
“Hotel bar,” Sara said. “Super hot, super rich guys.” She was super rich and had no interest in a guy for more than one night, so I wasn’t sure why that was a big deal.
“I shouldn’t be here. I already have one more super hot, super rich guy than I can handle.”
I felt someone tap me on the shoulder—with a hand, not a boob—and then saw Sara’s expression turn to confusion. More confusion. When I turned around, a guy wearing a black jacket, white shirt, and tie looked down at me.
“Thank you,” I said. “But I don’t need any more drunks. I mean drinks.” My liver must really hate me right now.
He nodded. “That’s a very good idea, but not why I’m here. Are you Sara Antonopoulos?”
“No,” I said, pointing to Sara. “She is.”
“Sorry.” He faced Sara. “A guest requested that you meet them in the lobby.”
She glanced at me, her mouth in the shape of a donut. I need a donut.
“Who?” she asked the guy.
“A gentleman.”
“I told you this place is awesome.” Sara looked at me again, made another ‘O’ face, and we both busted up laughing. “A gentleman wants to meet me in the lobby,” she parodied.
The hotel employee looked at us as if trying to figure out why the ‘gentleman’ wanted to meet us at all.
“Wait.” I tried my best to focus. “Who is he really? Does he have a name, this gentleman caller?”
“Of course, he has a name,” Sara slurred. “And I will find out what it is just as soon as I can.”
“Hayden Bennett,” the guy said.
My gasp didn’t make it all the way out, so I started coughing, grabbing at Sara blindly before she got away.
“Don’t go. Please don’t go.” I had to think. Something that was virtually impossible, unless I wanted to think of dirty stuff about him, which I did amazingly well, even while sober. Unfortunately, that wasn’t what the moment called for. It called for logic and…something else. Clear-headedness! That’s what it called for.
Oh shit, was I in trouble.
Obviously, Hayden wasn’t here trying to pick up random women because he’d asked for me by name, or by my fake name, or Sara’s name, or… But how did he know I was here? And did he look as good in person as he did in pictures?
Oh shit. I thanked the judgmental hotel employee so he would go away. I had serious sobering up to do.
I leaned in close to Sara, steadying myself on the table next to us. “Sara, it’s him. It’s him him.”
“Him who?”
“Him, my client. My…my whatever he is. Hayden Bennett. He asked for me. Well, he asked for you, but that’s because I use your name.” Damn it. I shouldn’t have sent the hotel guy away. I should have told him to tell Hayden that he’d made a mistake and that no one named Sara Antonopoulos was here. “Whatever you do—don’t go out there.”
Sara’s cheeks filled with air, and she slowly blew it out. “You’re totally right.”
“Thank you.”
“You should.” Sara pushed me toward the lobby. We caught up with the hotel guy easily, because he was bigger and not rudely shoving his way through the crowd like Sara was.
“Hey,” she called out when we were close enough for him to hear. “We were kidding. She’s Sara. Can you take her out? She’s a bit wobbly.”
“No,” I begged. “I can’t. I can’t.”
The guy took me firmly by the arm—probably hoping I wouldn’t fall down and take him down with me, or just vomit on him—and dragged me away. I stared back at Sara, shaking my head.
Sara's only response was to mouth, ‘You’re welcome,’ and smile. Then she turned her attention to a guy she’d been chatting with earlier.
Worst. Friend. Ever.
The hotel guy dragged me out of the loud bar and into the very, very quiet main lobby. It was like we’d entered a library. I shook him off, not wanting any more of his ‘help.’
“Be aware that all of my Facebook friends will hear about the way guests are treated in this hotel. All four of them, mister. Got it?”
“Got it,” he said, walking away while gesturing to my 6:30 or 7:00 where—
“Oh shit!” I covered my face. One, so Hayden wouldn’t see me being this drunk. And two, so I wouldn’t see him being that gorgeous.
Life was so unfair. Here I was drunk and wearing hooker clothes, and there he was with his perfect hair and his perfect clothes that his perfect chest probably wouldn’t bust out of the first chance it got. Although, in his case, I doubted anyone would mind. In my case…
Quick boob check. Hands still over my face because yeah, that made so much sense. At least my boobs were where they belonged.
“Hi.” Even his voice was perfect. Bastard. “I promise, being here is a totally innocent coincidence.”
“Doesn’t matter. Because I’m going to pretend you aren’t here at all, and that this is just another fantasy—” Never drinking again. “Yep, I just said that, didn’t I?”
“Yeah. Fairly loudly, too.”
One of these days, I’d master the ‘think before you speak’ technique. Unfortunately, today was not that day. “Wow. Okay. Um…looks like you got your meeting after all.” And I bet he was feeling really fortunate about that right now. “Aaaand step one is now complete.”
“Remind me what step one is.”
“Step one: I embarrass myself.”
“I’m not sure you’ve completed it then,” he said, sounding a little closer than he’d been, but I couldn’t look. “You’re loud in a quiet place. I wouldn’t have thought you embarrass so easily.”
“Damn, you’re hard to impress. But I’m sure I’ll come up with something even more delightfully embarrassing soon.” Not exactly sure what that would be. Except—
Boob check.
“Am I so hideously ugly that you can’t even look at me?” he asked. “Or do you want to play peek-a-boo?”
I laughed under the safety of my hands for a second and then came out from behind them. “How terrifying is it that you’re not the first man who’s asked me that?”
“I think he was referring to a much less innocent game than I am.”
Innocent. Right. Bummer.
Hayden had the kind of face you could stare at every day and never quite figure out. If you took any of his features and stuck them onto someone else’s face, that person would instantly become ten times more attractive. So with all those parts on one face, it was kind of surreal, almost too—
Oh crap, how long had I been staring at him?
“Well, um…this is…awkward,” I babbled. “But, then again, you did say you wanted to see me drunk. You should really be more careful what you wish for.”
“Actually, I said I wanted to see you ugly drunk. And now I know that’s never going to be possible.”
I mumbled a quick thanks because I wasn
’t actually sure it was a compliment. I think it was. I think it was a really good one. But the shock of this meeting had only just started sobering me up, and I had a long way to go yet before I could judge sarcasm or irony.
He nodded toward the hotel’s reception area. “Can we…talk a little?”
I paused, my sanity winning out over my incredible desire to scream, ‘God, yes! Get us a damn room already! What took you so long to ask?’ Because that would be wrong, and I would wake up tomorrow with bigger problems than a hangover.
I spoke each word slowly, making sure ‘take me, take me now,’ didn’t slip in there accidentally. “That might make it a lot harder for you to make sure step two doesn’t happen.”
He leaned forward slightly. “Remind me what step two is.”
“Do you ever listen?”
His mouth opened, but no sound came out. I waited, desperately trying not to sway too far over in my heels. I could use a sit-down, but not near a bed. All kinds of wrong could happen if I sat down with him on a bed.
“For some reason, I’ve been distracted lately.” His gaze slid slowly down my body before he caught himself and snapped his focus back to my face. “Do you have a little time to fill me in on everything I may have missed?”
I swallowed. “Step two—that you’ll leave our meeting regretting something.”
“I think I would have more to regret if I left right now.” He nodded to the center of the hotel again. “Just for a little while. Then I’ll call you a cab or take you home myself.”
“Wow, Hayden,” I mocked. “You’re going to get us a room and not even let me stay in it? How chivalrous of you. Why don’t you just save some cash and do me in the elevator?”
His eyes widened, and he laughed. “I didn’t mean— There’s another bar at the other end of the lobby, a quieter one. I thought we could have coffee together. No room. No elevator. And, if it’s what you prefer, absolutely no chivalry.”
“Coffee.” I wondered if he could hear the disappointment in my voice. “That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
It was a bad idea. I was drunk and horny—he was gorgeous and off-limits. For a number of reasons. “I can’t. I’m here with someone.”
His expression fell. “Oh, of course you are. I’m…” He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it and making it look even better, less tamed. “My timing is bad. Perhaps another time.”
“Let me think about it when I’m sober.”
“I hope I didn’t overstep my bounds.” He looked lost for a moment. It didn’t last long, but I’d seen it. Through the confident, controlled mask I knew he wore when he was with other people. I could see all the way to who I knew he really was—funny, charming, and…yeah, a bit lost.
“No lasting damage,” I said. “But I should go get my friend.”
“Your friend. Yeah, you should.” He’d said ‘friend’ like someone would say, ‘I have to clean the bathroom of the YMCA. With my tongue.’
I didn’t know why I felt the need to explain, because what, or who, he thought I was doing shouldn’t matter. But it did. And he did. And I needed to deal with the facts. “If I leave her alone too long, her terrible taste in men will get her in trouble.”
“Does she have long straight hair?”
“Yeah.”
“Was she wearing some kind of sparkly green shirt?”
“Why?”
“She left while you were playing peek-a-boo.”
“Oh shit.” I spun around, looking for her, my unsober mind figuring a quick glance around the lobby would help me see a few minutes ago. Duh. Sure it could. “Where was she headed?”
“They went to the valet line.”
“They.” Great. I reached for my wallet/phone case and found myself out of luck. “Damn it.” Sara had used my phone to take a picture of me and must have stuck it in her purse, so I had no phone and no money. “Damn it, damn it, damn it.”
Hayden stepped forward cautiously, like I was a panicked animal, which I actually was—a drunk and panicked animal. “She’s not allowed to do that?”
I shook my head. I shouldn’t have left her alone. “I have to find out where she went.”
“It seemed like she went willingly.”
“Of course, she did. She always does. That’s why I need to find her.”
“Can I help?”
“You could let me borrow your phone.”
He handed it to me, and the first thing I saw was my fake name in a very short list of favorites. I ignored that and dialed Sara’s number. No answer. So I tried mine. No answer on that one either.
Sara would never take a guy to her place, so it was useless to go there. I needed my computer. So, if I could bum bus fare from Hayden and be home in an hour and a half or find a ride and be home in fifteen minutes. And the only person who could give me a ride was…
Damn it. “I need a ride home.”
“My car is just a few blocks away.”
I looked at him. “Normally I would ask to see your ID and a major credit card, but I already have access to that information.” His passwords, account numbers, home and office addresses, and pretty much everything else there was to know about him. If he was an ax murderer, he didn’t use his credit cards for duct tape and shovels. But taking him to my house? That would bring him into my life, and I wasn’t sure I was ready for that to ever happen.
“Can I trust you, Hayden?”
“You know me better than 99% of the people in my life. So you tell me.”
“Yeah, I can.” The bigger question was: Could I trust myself?
24
Andi
I put the cup of coffee Hayden had bought me on the way out of the hotel into a cup holder, careful not to spill it all over his very expensive, very pristine car, and then dialed Sara’s number again from his phone. There was probably no reason to panic, but the reaction was visceral for me.
I was still pretty tipsy and needed to pay close attention to what exactly I said. Or did. So I didn’t say anything else to Hayden. I could tell he was watching me out of the corner of his eye while he drove. Every time I checked, his face would turn slightly but not all the way, and his lips would separate as if he was about to speak. Then they’d clamp together tightly.
“Hayden, maybe things would be less awkward if you just said what you want to say.”
“I was just wondering why you’re trying to rescue a friend who probably doesn’t want to be rescued.”
That was an explanation I owed him. One of many. “Sara doesn’t always think things through. I know because I used to be the same way.” And guess how well that had turned out. “Back then, she took care of me.” Then, overnight, our roles switched and I became the responsible one.
The most troubling part was knowing why I’d been like that—I’d been punishing myself. Sara knew all about my screw-up, but I still didn’t know her reasons. Anything that turned a happy and hopeful person into someone who couldn’t go a weekend without getting into trouble wasn’t good.
“All I can do is make sure she’s safe, you know?”
Hayden nodded, probably wondering what any of that actually meant, but thankfully not asking. “Doesn’t it get confusing with both of you named Sara?”
I looked out the window to hide my I’m-such-a-terrible-liar expression. I really should limit the time I spent in public…to none. “Well, I don’t speak in the third person, so if I say ‘Sara,’ people usually know I’m referring to her.”
“Right.” He laughed, his smile showing off perfect teeth and a small dimple in his cheek. No one should be allowed to look that good—it was bad for everyone else’s self-esteem.
“Can you drive faster?” I asked. Having a big freak-out about being so close to a disgustingly gorgeous man should wait until after I’d made sure Sara was okay. Since there wasn’t much I could do about it on the way home, I might as well bide my time with a medium-sized freak-out. “How did you know I was at the bar?”
“On my wa
y back from a dinner meeting, I passed you and Other-Sara on the street. You-Sara said something truly obnoxious very loudly, and I recognized your voice. So I followed you in a completely non-stalkerish way, just to see if I was right.”
“What did I say?”
“I’m not sure it should be repeated.” He winked. “Ever.”
I grimaced. “See? I embarrassed myself, and you are completely un-intimidated by me now.”
“Actually,” he said softly, “sitting next to you, I find myself quite intimidated.”
“You’re just saying that to be nice.”
“I’m saying that because it’s true. I’ve wanted to meet you for a long time.”
“And now you have. Impressive, ain’t I?” I’d considered pulling down the visor to see what three bars and no-idea-how-many drinks had left behind, but what would that do besides make me feel even worse about this whole situation?
“Very.” He smiled, keeping his eyes on the road as we got closer to my neighborhood.
This was a seriously lousy time to confront him, but unfortunately, all that liquor still hadn’t blurred out the detective’s visit. “Hayden, did you tell anyone how I found out who was stealing your shit.”
“My shit?” He laughed. “No, I thought you didn’t want me to, but I’d be happy to give you credit.”
“No,” I said quickly. “I don’t really want anyone to know. I don’t like getting mixed up in that kind of thing.” Wasn’t that the truth. “Plus, you know how it is—as soon as someone finds out you do something well, they’re constantly asking for favors.”
“People never ask me for favors. Do you think that means no one thinks I do anything well?”
I grimaced. “Yeah, I’m sure you’ve brought horrible shame onto your family, what with all your incredible successes. They’ve gotta be so embarrassed.”
“If you ever meet any of them, don’t mention you know me. It’ll just get uncomfortable.”
I called Sara again to avoid constantly staring at him and wondering if the heat I felt was from being so close to him or being so filled with cheap booze.
“Still no answer.”