Nick eyed the building critically. The contractors had done a stellar job restoring the ruin to an elegant mansion in record time, working in double shifts. He and his friends had hired the right people, and, with an extra infusion of cash from Colt and a bit of luck, their gamble had paid off beyond their wildest dreams. Not long after its opening, Sin City Dark’s membership was full, and now there was a waiting list.
They were already making money. All should have been right in his world.
Except it wasn’t.
One thing hadn’t changed, and his second goal felt further away than ever. Nick still struggled with the increasing personal dissatisfaction he believed the club would fix. The truth was, it had only gotten worse.
Tonight, it all had bubbled to the surface.
He loosened his tie, wishing he could also loosen the dress code. But they’d established it as a high-end club with strict rules covering everything from health screenings and background checks to safety protocols and conduct. Like it or not, dressing a certain way influenced behavior. This place was the opposite of casual, and casual attire wasn’t allowed.
He couldn’t wait to get home and change into sweats.
The valet retrieved his truck key and grinned at him as he ran by. “Leaving already, Mr. Kent?”
“Hey, Kyle. Yup.”
It took only a couple of minutes before his black Tahoe rolled around, gleaming in the moonlight, the engine purring like a contented cat.
“My offer still stands,” the valet said as he exited the vehicle.
Nick shook his head. “She’s not for sale, Kyle.”
“She’s got over two hundred thousand miles.”
Nick settled into the comfortable cloth seat. “And still runs like it’s 1999.”
“I know.” Kyle stood by the bumper, admiring the blacked-out front and shiny body. Not long ago, Nick had hired a guy to repaint her and add a ceramic coating. A leather interior was also in the works. He’d found a shop that worked on aviation seats at reasonable rates, and they were scheduled to reupholster the well-worn cloth ones in a few weeks.
“First dibs if you change your mind,” Kyle said, stepping back.
Nick fastened his seat belt with a click. “You’ll be the first to know.”
Nick ran his hands over the steering wheel. No, he would never sell his mother’s Tahoe. No sense in telling Kyle that, though. He was a good kid and a great employee; Nick might ask around to see if he could find a similar truck for him.
He pressed the accelerator, grinning at the full-throated roar of the 350 V-8 engine. Classic American muscle V-8 at its finest. He remembered how excited he was the first day his mom showed up in it to pickhim up from school, after insisting she wouldn’t buy it and was going for a minivan instead.
He rounded the circular driveway and waited for the gates to open, glancing in the rearview mirror. What would his mother say about his life now? About this club and what happened inside its walls? A wan smile curved his lips. She’d probably applaud his accomplishments and ask if he was happy.
Was he?
He frowned and shoved the thought away.
Reaching for the visor organizer, he selected an old CD and pushed it into the player. The first moody piano notes of Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” filled the cabin. Nick rolled his shoulders, loosening muscles he hadn’t realized were so tight.
The club was supposed to be his playground, a place to unwind, decompress, and indulge in pleasure. Why, then, did he feel this way?
He stopped at a traffic light and pulled his phone from his pocket, scrolling to favorites in his photo file. It took a second to find the one he wanted: Jannie, at the cocktail party, stunning in her blue dress. He’d snapped the pic without her knowledge.
It had been over two months.
And he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her.
His gaze roamed over her perfect face and statuesque body. She was one of the few women he had met tall enough to look him in the eye with ease. And those eyes … intelligent sapphire eyes capable of piercing your soul. He’d felt naked, incapable of hiding anything under her gaze, as if she could see his deepest secrets and darkest desires.
Speaking of desires … she’d kissed the living daylights out of him. Not a day went by that he didn’t recall the heat of that kiss. She’d captured his imagination back in high school, and seeing her again confirmed that his feelings for her hadn’t changed. Whatever had attracted him had only grown stronger.
She was the one that got away.
