“I’d like to take you out sometime, Avery.” Finishing up with the tab, he closed the black book.
“I’m … Uh …I just don’t have time for anything right now.” The rejection tasted like acid.
“I’m not asking you to marry me, Bella. Just one night. An official date. Think about it, and text me when you have time.” Grabbing a cocktail napkin from the table, he wrote down his phone number, slipping it into the book that held my tip and handed it to me for safe keeping.
“I’ll think about it.” I nodded with uncertainty.
“I hope you do.” His hand found my hip, squeezing just tight enough that I could feel my knees go weak. His breath brushed against my ear when he whispered, “I know where you work, soI’m sure I’ll be seeing you anyway.” His lips grazed my forehead. The moment was so brief, I hardly had enough time to miss it before he and his friends headed out of the disheveled cabana, leaving me with no idea when I’d see him next.
When I was left alone, I opened the black book. His phone number laid on top of a one-thousand-dollar tip.
“What in the actual fuck?” I whisper-yelled, spinning on my heel to catch him, only to realize he was already gone.
Never in my last three years of working at this pool have I had a tip of this caliber. I’d waited on some of the richest people to travel through Vegas, but never have I ever had a tip in the four digits.
Money like this could be life changing. Especially for someone in my position with bills and blackmail to pay off, and a savings account I desperately needed to build up.
I had a sinking feeling in my stomach—the need to text him and thank him for being so generous, but at the same time, the realization that texting him, opening that door, would push me toward something I’m not sure I’d be able to come back from.
All I needed was a little more time. Time to get things paid off and to get my life back on track.
He may know where I spend my days at work, but there was no way in hell he could find out what I did for a living when the sun went down.
Attendingover-the-top galas like this one was just part of the job. Instead of showing up solo, I would have preferred to carry a piece of eye candy on my arm like most of my friends and colleagues—having a partner at these upscale events always came in handy. Whether that be a reason to get away, or a reason to take her into a hidden room, or bathroom, and fuck her when you got tired of hearing people talk about work and all that they’ve accomplished so far that year, it was all better than dealing with it alone.
Only a few hours ago, I was at the pool, partying it up with my friends and taking in the sight of Avery in her smoking hot fire engine red bikini. The thought had me pulling my phone from my coat pocket for the hundredth time in the last few hours, willing a text from an unknown number to flash across my screen.
Fuck, I knew she was playing hard to get since the night we met, but I sort of hoped she’d use my phone number when she finished up her shift. Maybe text me and thank me for the large tip or tell me how much she enjoyed seeing me—assuming thatwas the case. After all, I was over the moon when I spotted her walking up to our cabana. Watching her bop around with a bright smile on her face, working her customers and fully in her element.
When I asked Avery what she was doing tonight, it came from a selfish place deep down from not wanting to attend this event by myself. I wanted the excuse to see her again. To see her dressed to the nines for me to show off.
So, when she told me she was busy and chose not to text me, I was racking my brain for answers to why she wasn’t giving me a chance. Was she truly just playing hard to get? If so, it was working.
As if I needed a reminder that I was at this gala without her, an older gentleman, that I knew I’d seen before, but couldn’t quite remember his name, shook my hand, tearing me away from thoughts of a dark-haired girl in a downright sinful swimsuit.
“Hey, man! Good work on extending Jayson’s contract for another four years. Looks like he may be closing out his career with the Neon after all.”
“It was an easy close. He loves it here and he’d be a bastard to leave before going for the threepeat.” We chuckled at the same time—mine sounding a bit more forced.
Over the years, Jayson and I had become best friends. When I became his agent, signing him to the Neon his rookie year, I was just a few years into my career. I had yet to land a big client, but with him, I hit the jackpot. Not only did I have faith in him when other teams didn’t, but he turned into a goddamn superstar and made me one rich mother fucker.
It didn’t take much persuasion to convince him to extend his contract, but he was a fuck boy that enjoyed making people sweat.
“Hey, I’ll catch you later. I’m going to grab a drink. Have a great night.” I nodded at the gray-haired man.
Avoiding more small talk, I spotted the bar across the way with a cold one calling my name.
After walking through a wave of men in tuxedos, and women in diamonds and floor-length gowns, I found a sliver of the bartop available to lean against. Raising two fingers in the air, the bartender caught my eye.
“What’ll it be for you tonight, boss?”
“Whatever lager you have in the bottle, please.” There was a time and place for whiskey, but here wasn’t it. I needed to pace myself so I wouldn’t end up looking like an ass.
It was an open bar, so after the bartender slid the beer my way, I traded him for a twenty. Lifting the bottle to my lips, the malty flavors hit my tongue. It wasn’t long after I swallowed when I heard a familiar voice next to me. Her back was turned, but I knew those little tattoos anywhere—especially after seeing them sprinkled along her body earlier.
Avery?
Avery washerewith her friends?
