Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 60700 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60700 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
“Yeah, okay. I’ll have a Moscow mule.”
He flags down the bartender, and I get served right away because the guy knows I’m Gina’s friend.
“What’s your name?” He has to shout over the music which has been turned up as the club transitions from lounge to nightclub with the later hour.
“Lexi,” I tell him.
“I’m Jayden.” He holds his hand out, and I shake it. It’s sweaty, and the handshake is awkward.
Ugh. I’m already regretting accepting the drink if it means I’m stuck making weird small talk with a stranger for the rest of my time here.
“What do you do?”
“I’m a hairstylist.” I look around to see where Gina might be. How long before she can come over and rescue me. But the place is filling up. She’s busy working the tables along the walls that are filled with new customers. She probably won’t get much time to hang out with me tonight. “How about you?”
“I’m in sales.”
Sales could mean anything at all. He could be a sign spinner on the corner. I doubt he’s selling anything too spectacular based on the way he’s dressed and carries himself. I’m not judging, just observing. I’m not one to poke holes in anyone else’s financial situation when mine is so shitty. Still, this guy does nothing at all for me. I struggle through the chit chat while I suck down my drink which is mostly ice, anyway, and set it on the bar.
Jayden waves at the bartender to get me one more, but I shake my head. “I’m good, thanks.” I slide off the barstool I was camped on. If I don’t move from this spot, I won’t be able to shake this guy.
“Thank you for the drink. I’m going to head out.”
“What? You can’t leave now, things are just warming up here.”
I pull a mock mournful face. “I know, but I’m working tomorrow. Have to get my beauty rest.”
He catches my arm. I grit my teeth to keep from shaking off his touch. “One more drink,” he wheedles.
“Nah, I’m good. Thank you, though. It was nice talking to you.”
Unfortunately, the bartender arrives with my drink, not catching or ignoring that I didn’t want it.
“He already brought your drink. Now you have to stay.” He flashes a smile that I’m sure is supposed to be charming.
I suck at situations like this. I really do. I was raised to be a good girl. Always be nice and polite. Never hurt anyone’s feelings or insult them. Always smile. It makes it hard to figure out how to say no when someone’s being pushy.
So I lie. “Yeah, okay. I’m just going to go to the bathroom,” I say. Call me a chicken. It’s true. “I'll be right back.”
I walk toward the back of the club and pop into the women's room–that part wasn’t a lie. Just the coming back part. I exit and head toward the back door. It's an emergency-only exit, but I can probably talk the bouncer stationed there into opening it for me since I'm Gina's friend, and I know Leo.
Except I’m stopped when fingers close around my arm, and Jayden yanks me backward.
“Ouch!” I glare at my unwanted suitor who apparently thinks he has a right to be pissed off now.
“Where are you going?” he demands, like I just screwed him out of five hundred bucks or a trip to Paris or something.
I open and shut my mouth trying to figure out if I'm going to tell the truth or fib again. I guess the jig is up.
I try to pull my arm away from him, but he hangs on. “I really have to go.”
“I bought you two drinks,” he accuses. Apparently, I owe him my firstborn child now.
“That was your choice. I didn’t ask you to. In fact, I tried to refuse the second one. Now let go.” I yank harder. This guy is going to leave finger bruises on my arm.
“Bullshit, I heard you telling your friend you wanted a sugar daddy.”
I’m not having this conversation. “Let go of me.”
If anything, he squeezes tighter. I’m about to make a scene in hopes the bouncer at the door will notice and throw this guy out when a different hero shows up to save the day. A very well-dressed Italian hero.
“Let go of her.” The guy seizes Jayden by the throat and shoves him up against the wall. Jayden lets go and stays pinned there, the side of his face mashed against the plaster.
“This guy bothering you?” my rescuer growls in a gruff, gravelly rumble. He’s an extremely hot, older man with a commanding presence. One of the owners, then.
A mob boss.
The good girl, the nice girl in me would say no. Because complaining about people isn’t polite. But I’m way too pissed. I rub the red marks on my arm where he held me. “Yeah.”