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I refuse to sit here and die of boredom or humiliation. I’ll just use my boss’s black credit card to pay for a ride home. He might even splurge on an Uber Black ride for me.

First, bathroom. Because God forbid, I’ve been sipping expensive whiskey and there’s no telling how long it’ll take for my ride to show up. I slip Henderson’s card into my purse and hop off the barstool. After straightening my skirt, I weave through the crowd to the black door with a holographic woman on it. Honestly, it’s like running an obstacle course. A wall of muscle blocks my path at one point, but I duck around them and make it in.

The bathroom reeks of expensive perfume and desperation. I do my business and head for the sinks. That’s when a chick in a sequined mini-dress barrels into me, nearly knocking me off my feet.

“Sorry, babe!” she cackles, fake lashes askew, nearly face-planting on the tile.

“Yeah, no problem,” I mutter, already counting down to freedom.

She stumbles out, and I catch a glimpse of her in the mirror, giggling with her friends by the exit. I reach for my purse. Gone.

Motherf— Are you fucking kidding me?

I rush out the bathroom door and run right into a brick wall with the most intense brown eyes I’ve ever seen. I physically bounce off him. Like, straight up rebound, nearly falling on my ass, except he catches my arm in a grip that’s all brute strength and zero effort.

It’s not just the eyes. I mean, yeah, they’re dark brown and so intense they nearly burn right through me, but there’s more. He has to be at least a foot taller than me. Maybe more, actually. This dude’s built like a brick shithouse. He’s wearing black jeans and a black tee stretched across a chest that’s thick enough to bounce quarters off of. His arms are covered in intricate tattoos.

His dark hair is cut short. He’s got a goatee thing, and I’ve never been a fan of men with facial hair, but I’m starting to change my opinion as I stare up at this guy.

My breath legit gets stuck in my chest. He doesn’t let go of my arm. Just stares at me, sizing me up, turning my insides to goo.

His scent is sharp, leather and something spicy, definitely not cologne, just clean man. This close, he’s freaking intimidating, and his stare is flat-out predatory. There’s danger all over this guy, radiating from every muscle.

I’m in so much trouble.