“Look, I’m not asking for the world. I don’t even wanthalfof Daniel’s wealth. All I want is the apartment. He at least owes me that!”
I slam my palms down onto David’s desk and stand, ready to leave for real this time.
David tosses his pen onto his pad and leans back in his chair, finally lifting his dark gaze to mine. “Interesting,” he drawls.
“What is?” I huff, annoyed that my eyes instantly trace along his sharp jawline and land on his full, oh so kissable lips. This infuriatingly beautiful man.
“That you’ve spent the last hour telling me how you’ve lived an indulgent lifestyle off your extravagant funds, yet you now refer to the accumulated wealth asDaniel’s, notmineorours.”
He steeples his hands in front of his chest and pins me with his gaze, making me shift on my feet. “I also note that by your own statement you confess that you have lived a life of complete frivolity, yet now you think Danielowesyou. I wonder what for?”
The intelligent bastard. He cocks a brow and watches me, and I try to morph the shock I know is written plain as day on my face into a blank mask to rival his own. He’s unravelled my whole story off of one outburst.
“I’m done answering questions. If you’re so damn good at your job, then getting my apartment shouldn’t be a problem.”
I stand and turn to leave, ignoring the mix of triumph and intrigue I can feel in his gaze as it roams over my face.Suddenly, removing myself from this office and this man’s vicinity is my number one priority. He responds just before I heave open his door.
“I’ll do one better than that, Gianna. I’ll give you it all.”
8
Saturday night comes around fast. Thanks to the collection of wine Daniel had stashed in the spare bedroom of our apartment, I’m drunk before we even cross the red rope the bouncer at the door so graciously holds open so that Anna and I can stumble our way inside. Daniel would be horrified if he saw how Anna and I threw back glass after glass of the expensive drop while singing along to Taylor Swift and doing each other’s hair, but honestly?
Knowing that made it taste that much sweeter.
The club is vibing as we beeline straight through the sweaty, compact mass of people towards the centre of the dance floor. The music is so loud it sends vibrations up my legs and flashing lights threaten to blind me before I close my eyes and lose myself to the dance song that’s blasting through the speakers. Anna does the same in front of me. I love to dance, to get lost in whatever song is playing and shut off my mind, letting my body take over. I’ve come to rely on my nights out with Anna as a kind of therapy. We shake our butts to the music, and I’d guess an hour passesbefore Anna signals that she needs a drink, grabs my hand and leads me through the crowd to find the closest bar. Sweat coats my skin. My hair, which I left down and straight, sticks to the back of my neck like cling wrap as I fan my face with my free hand.
We find a small opening at the bar and dump our purses on top of the sticky counter, the heady smell of spirits and beer burning my nostrils. Anna tries to flag down one of the many bartenders that clearly have their work cut out for them tonight.
“I love this club!” I yell in the general direction of Anna’s ear as I turn and lean back against the bar, taking in the crowd before me. I can barely hear my own voice over the sound of the music, but Anna looks sideways at me with a huge grin on her face. Her honey-coloured hair clings to her shoulders much the same as mine and her cheeks are flushed and glowing with excited exertion.
“Me too! Shots?”
I nod at her with a grin and turn back to the dance floor. The club has two storeys. The second storey is a mezzanine, for what I assume is VIP members, that overlooks the dance floor. My eyes gloss over the decadent leather and velvet upholstery, crystal chandeliers and black-mirrored walls of the upper-class nightclub as I wobble slightly on my sky-high stilettos. Maybe shots aren’t the best idea for my already drunk ass, but getting wasted was a foregone conclusion from the moment Anna called me Thursday. Just for a moment, I need a distraction from the train wreck that is my life. Anna, who whole-heartedly agreed with ‘Operation DrunkGate’ after I told her whose office I landed in on Thursday, finally captures a bartender and ordersfourwet pussies.
Far out.Ubriaca, indeed.
“Hopefully that’ll be five wet pussy’s before the end of the night,” a gravelly voice says into my ear, making me jolt and turn to face the man that’s appeared beside me. I notice he’s clean-cut and attractive with styled dark brown hair, straight white teeth and a beauty spot just above his full lips that most women would kill for. If only his pick-up lines were as charming as his face.
“Gross.” I wrinkle my nose up at him. Alcohol for me is like taking a shot of veritaserum. The truth just comes flying out of my mouth.
The man’s grin widens.
“Sorry, I admit that was appalling but it was just too good to pass over,” he half-yells into my ear with a deep laugh, and I let out a very unlady-like snort as I meet his soft brown eyes. In this lighting, with his dark features, he sort of looks like a watered-down, less attractive version of David.
Oh, for fuck’s sake.Am I doomed to compare every man I meet to that beautiful bastard?
“Fine. I’ll give you that one pass,” I say, holding up a single finger in front of his face. “Now don’t ever say the word pussy to me again.”
“Deal.” He holds out his large hand with mock seriousness and I take it, feeling his warm fingers wrap around mine as we shake on it. “Now that’s settled, what’s your name?”
I eye the guy appreciatively. Under different circumstances he would be my type. However, I decided after my run-in with David I’m not going to touch another man until I’m atleastdivorced. No need to add to the current shit show that is my love life. I’m just here to have fun with my best friend.
I take my hand out of his just as Anna butts in from behind me. “Her name is Gianna! Isn’t she gorgeous?”
I elbow Anna in the ribs as I grab a shot and turn to lean back against the bar.
“She is indeed,” he responds, leaning into me so his chest is pressed up against my shoulder. He presses his next words into my ear. “Wanna dance?”
