With her back turned to me, I was able to look around for the girls she was with the other night at the bar. No familiar redhead or blonde in sight.
Right next to her stood a man not much younger than me. A man I knew very well. A man I’ve mostdefinitelyworked closely with.
Unsure of why she lied to me instead of telling me she had another date, I took the opportunity to interrupt saiddate.
I took a long pull of my beer, and the words left my mouth before I could even think twice.
“Hunter, my man.” I clapped him on the arm, avoiding eye contact with Avery.
“Spencer, how’s it going? Figured I’d see you around here tonight.” He reached for my hand, offering the hundredth hand shake I had shared tonight.
“All is good over here. How about yourself? And who do we have here?” I asked, finally dropping my gaze to meet Avery’s.
“Good, great, actually. This is my date, Sky.”
Um, come again? Did I hear that right?
Which one of us dumbasses had the wrong name here? Because I knew without a doubt that this woman right in front of me was Avery. Unless she had an identical twin sister walking around the Strip with the exact same tattoos.
“Sky.” I nodded my head, offering her a slight dip in my brow as I reached my hand for hers. “Spencer,” I introduced myself.
Her petite hand filled mine. “Nice to meet you.” She spoke in a voice so low that I almost didn’t hear her.
Just as her hand slipped from mine, Hunter became distracted by the bartender offering to fill up his drink.
“Meet me by the bathrooms in ten if you don’t want me to blow your cover,” I whispered in her ear, the anger brewing inside me.
“Sorry to cut this short, man. Gotta run and make a phone call.” I clapped Hunter’s back before walking off toward the bathrooms.
My head was spinning.
Was she a fucking con artist?
Who the hell was this woman? I’d never seen her walking a day in my circle of friends, and now I’d seen her three times in the last week alone.
Leaning up against the wall, I dug into my pocket, fishing for my phone as I kept a direct line of sight to where Avery stood, waiting for her to walk in my direction.
Maybe I didn’t need to make a phone call, but Jackson had been blowing up my phone with text messages all day.
Jackson: Hey Dad.
Jackson: Did you get a chance to wire that money yet?
Jackson: I talked to that guy and he’s getting pretty impatient with me.
Jesus, kid. What happened to a month? It’s been all of what, a few days?
Me: It will be a few days before the money comes through. What happened to a month?
He must have been sitting by his phone eager for my response since my phone pinged with his reply almost immediately.
Jackson: I’m just getting anxious and want this problem behind me.
Me: You got yourself into this mess, Jackson. It’s going to be a few days. Tell your guy it’s coming in the next couple of weeks, and you’ll be good for it. In the meantime, sit there and think about how you got here in the first place.
My eyes lifted from my phone, the sound of a simple pair of black heels clicked in my direction, the conversation with Jackson completely vanishing from my mind. Only feet away from me was the girl I had just left a four-figure tip to at the pool hours earlier. She’d traded her red bikini for a red satin ballgown. My eyes roamed over the tan leg popping out fromthe slit in her dress. A slit so deep it teased my mind with dirty thoughts.
She looked so damn good in red.
