One Year Later
The club is obscenely loud.Young people grind on the dance floor and pretty girls in short skirts lounge near the bar. I wonder how many are hookers. Probably half.
“That’s my shit!” Chase Devereaux jumps to his feet when a new Beyonce song comes on. I barely recognize it. God, I’ve been such a workaholic this past year that I haven’t had much time to keep up with pop culture.
Better not tell Prime. He’ll rub it in my freaking face.
I tip the bottle girl ten bucks and she comes back with more champagne. “So what were you thinking, Chase? Are you happy with the numbers?” I hold the bottle, unwrapping the foil.
“Numbers?” He frowns at me, confused, before brightening. “Shit, yeah, the property. Look, Deanna, you’re the shit. For real, I mean that, like, deep in my heart, you are wildly the shit. I’m head over heels for the numbers.”
“Then we’re doing this?”
He sinks down across from me. Chase’s baby face twists into a manic smile, his bright blue eyes glowing.
“Fuck yeah we’re doing it. Pop that bottle, bitch!”
I’m so glad Prime isn’t here.
He’d smash Chase’s teeth straight through his throat.
“Here’s to new deals!”
We toast and drink. Chase sprays champagne on some passing girls. One of them gets pissed, the bouncers come over, I have to bribe the manager and I send the girls a bottle of vodka to make them happy, and all the while Chase barely even notices there’s a commotion.
Four months.
Chase Devereaux, playboy, spoiled rich kid, investor, has been the bane of my existence. I’ve been courting him ever since I heard he was looking for properties to dump his prodigious generational wealth into, and now finally, fucking finally, I have him.
“Sign here, here, and here.”
He scribbles his name. The contracts gets liquor on it but I’m pretty sure it’s still legal.
“Love this! Love it to fucking hell!” He leaps over the back of the private couch we’re sitting on. “I’m going to go dance. See you later, Deanna, you snake!”
I wave him off and the second he’s gone, I gather all my things, pay the tab, and get the fuck out of there.
Chase won’t notice I’m gone. Chances are good he’ll wander home with some pretty gold digger, fuck her brainless, and never learn her name.
He reminds me of someone I know.
The black town car is waiting outside the club. The window rolls down as I approach and Prime leans toward me, talking over the dull pulse of the music. Dozens of people waiting in line for entrance watch curiously.
“How’d it go in there?”
“Got him.” I hold up the papers triumphantly. “Can you believe it?”
“Absolutely yes, I really can.” He opens the door, pulls me into the back seat, and kisses me.
“You know what’s the best part? He’s totally legit. My side of the company.”
“Lucky girl.”
“And you’re sure your boss won’t mind?”
“Already ran it past him. He thinks it’s funny. I mean, Chase Devereaux’s got a reputation.”
“He really does.” I lean against my husband’s shoulder and run a finger down his chest. “Just like someone else I know.”
