“Best parts.” Rose approaches, cheeks bright from laughing and drinking.
I point at my grim-faced boyfriend, leaning against the wall, with his arms crossed. “I’m pretty sure he would’ve stopped the lap dance.”
“Why did you invite him, anyways?” Pouting, she sips on a Long Island Ice Tea and hands one to me but I pass it off to one of my other cousins waiting at the bar.
Instead, I grab my beer. “He thinks whoever beat me up may try again.”
“With all these people around?” Mia’s eyes go wide and she looks around like someone’s about to jump her.
“Calm down. He can be a little overprotective.” I remember how he saved me earlier and thank God for his amazing skills.
Suds senses we’re talking about him and nods, face completely neutral. Tonight, sunglasses on and dressed in black, he’s scary as shit. I can see why people hire him.
I’d love to go home but there’s no way. My cousins and friends chipped in a fair amount of money. They want me to have a little fun before I get married and even though the party wasn’t mine to begin with, I understand the rules.
When the clock strikes one, I down my last drink of the night and yell over the noise. “Guys, guys. It’s Thursday night and us working girls need to get up in the morning.”
Rose laughs. “Go on. We’ll be right behind you.”
I wobble over to where Suds has been standing watch all night long. Silently, he takes my arm, brings me to the coat check girl, and helps me on with my jacket.
Maybe it’s my alcohol-brain, but he’s so smooth, so gentlemanly, I wonder how many times he’s done this for beautiful, famous women, and taken them home to bed.
The sidewalk is a lot trickier to maneuver in heels than it was on the way in.
“You’re tipsy.” He glances up and down the street as he holds onto my waist.
“Nam not.” My heel gets caught in a crack and I stumble.
Luckily, he’s there to keep me from falling. “Are too. Before you forget, what did the bartender say?”
“Luigi. Poor Luigi. I think he may be our dead person.” I reach into my purse. “Dammit. Where did I put his business card?”
Suds says dryly. “Open your purse’s outside zipper.”
I don’t remember putting it there but when I search, the tiny rectangle miraculously appears. “Ta da!”
“What else did he say?” He snatches it out of my hand and puts it in his jacket’s inside pocket.
“Just how he hasn’t seen poor, poor Luigi in over a week. Oh yeah, he also said Luigi called Gallo, his bank roll.”
“Huh.”
“Let’s go search his place.” I bounce up and down on my heels.Best idea ever.
“Now?”
“Sure. What better time?”
He laughs as we descend into the parking garage. “For one thing, when you’re sober.”
“Tomorrow then?”
“Sure, sugar. But let’s wait and see how you feel.”
Inside his SUV, I put the seat back, and don’t wake until my alarm goes off the next morning. Cat yowls, jumps up, and lands with her claws out, digging holes into my hip.
“Ow! Off.”Oh dear God. My head. What was I thinking last night?
