Nada. Nothing. Zilch.
Maybe I’d have to change my approach, tone down The Kendy. Be sweeter, more innocent? Maybe he had to be the one to make the first move?
Yeah, that was probably it. He gave me the impression he didn’t like the aggressive type. After all, a man needed to feel like a man.
Luckily for him, I was sugary and sweet with a touch of spice underneath to keep things exciting all day and all night long.
With a hopeful grin, I watched him disappear down the hall. As my confidence returned, I flipped my blonde locks over my shoulder and stopped pouting. I knew what had to be done.
***
BRIAN
I surveyed my surroundings at the Clipper Night Club. The laser lights blinded me as I strolled past security. We had waited almost an hour to get in. Funny how women, if in a group, were allowed easy access, but us guys had to wait outside in line like kids waiting to enter Disney World. No wonder they called this the Meatpacking District. Men swarmed like flies around the hot women here.
I stepped into the club and sighed heavily as I took in the crowd. I realized the wait wasn’t worth it. I should’ve kept my ass at home and gotten that proposal for Tiggins Corp done. Then I’d have less to worry about come Monday morning. If I intended on getting the promotion, I needed to land this deal.
I tipped my beer back, trying to drive out thoughts of work.
Well, you’re already out. Let it go.
I loosened the collar of my button down. The amount of people jammed in the club made this place feel like a sweat lodge. The bass from the music echoed throughout the warehouse, thumping under my feet. That alone should have loosened me up, but it didn’t. I let my eyes stray to the cluster of attractive women on the dance floor, swaying in a group.
The scene grew old quickly. I had done this life in college and post-college. I wasn’t a saint by any means. A couple years ago, I would’ve strolled to the middle of the group, thrown the women some lines, bought them a bunch of drinks, and gotten my game on.
Tonight, I wasn’t in the mood to try too hard. Maybe it was the deal I was trying to land at work, maybe it was getting older, or maybe I was just tired of the same shit, weekend after weekend.
I followed Trey to the bar, where he tried to squeeze through the mass to order us a round of drinks. The bartender, an attractive brunette, was serving the patrons in front of her. I moved in behind Trey, studying the intricate tattoo of a snake wrapped around her arm, which ended at the top of her wrist.
“I’m going to get your ass drunk tonight, loosen you up. We’re gonna have a good time, you hear me?” He raised his hand to get the bartender’s attention.
She ducked her head to take his order and proceeded to get our beverages. Trey threw some change on the bar and passed me my beer, then we headed to a less crowded area as the laser lights illuminated the space while the music blared in the background.
Trey’s eyes roamed our vicinity. “BB, twelve o’clock. Dude, she’s looking this way.”
BB, meaning beautiful blonde. In high school we used to talk with abbreviations to get our game on. He pointed his beer bottle in her direction, and she smiled back at us.
“Blonde? Not my type.” When pictures of a brunette with emerald eyes entered my mind, I rubbed the back of my neck and shook my head to bring me back to the present.
“Come on. You’ve been in town for months, and you haven’t met any ladies. You’re dick is gonna fall off from lack of use. Let’s do this.” He lifted his fist, waiting for me to fist-bump.
After a beat, I complied and connected my fist to his. “You go.” I cocked my head in the girl’s direction. “She’s more your type.”
Trey winced. “That was high school. I don’t do blondes anymore.”
I recognized the hint of hurt in his voice. Shit. I should’ve caught myself before I spoke.
Trey had dated my younger sister, Katelyn, for three years. Blonde, blue eyes, and beautiful. We’d gone to the same high school together in Wisconsin, but he’d up and moved to NYC to go to college and eventually work for his father.
I still didn’t know what had happened between them, but from what I understood, he’d been the one left brokenhearted. If it had been the other way around and my sister had been heartbroken, he’d have gotten an ass-whipping. Being the older brother of three sisters, I’d always been overprotective.
But Trey didn’t like to talk about that time in his life; therefore, I didn’t force the issue.
He sat down on a stool next to me, his light and ready-to-party demeanor from a second ago now gone. This was turning into a sad night real fast. I tipped my beer all the way back, glancing back at the BB. It wasn’t that I didn’t have game. I was just tired of playing.
But for my boy, I’d do just about anything. I needed to lighten the atmosphere, so I zoned in on the blonde and took a deep breath. “All right then. Let me show you how it’s done.” I patted Trey’s shoulder and stood.
Trey perked up immediately and slapped my back before I strode to the other side of the room.
The blonde was attractive, but in a slightly fake way. Thick makeup caked her face and bright crimson lipstick lined her lips. Up close, I could tell she was a bottle blonde. She reeked of wealth. I’d seen it many times before. The ladies of Manhattan liked to flaunt their belongings and their assets.
I focused automatically on the curvature of her breasts. Her V-neck halter made it known she wanted everyone to notice her body.
I debated turning back around since I didn’t have time to think of a pick-up line, but she beat me to the punch. “Hey, handsome, you come over here to buy me a drink?” She touched my arm and angled forward so I could get a closer peek at her chest.
“What you having, beautiful?” I nodded in her direction.
She forced out a high-pitched laugh, and my eyes roamed up her slim, yet voluptuous figure. I knew what she’d come here for. Sitting at the bar, no girlfriends.
I didn’t want to assume, but hell, her body language was spelling it all out. She’d come here to get laid.
Maybe I should’ve been upfront: Let’s go to the bathroom and get it done. Still, the Midwestern boy in me knew there was a process to these things.
“I’ll have a gin and tonic.” The lilt in her voice sounded soft, cute, and somehow disconnected to her overdone appearance.
Part of me still wanted to walk away, but then Trey gave me a smirking nod from down the bar and I sucked it up once again.
After I ordered her a cocktail and another beer for myself, I leaned against the bar next to her. “Why are you here all by yourself? I know you women travel in packs.” I forced a suave smile, my normal bravado lacking.
Her red manicured fingers inched up my chest. “I’m glad they’re not here because I’m sure we would’ve had to draw straws for you.” She laughed softly and batted her eyelashes. Her eyes held a sensual flame as they roamed up my body. “You’re not from around here; I can tell. I’ve never seen you in here.”
“I don’t get out much.” I tipped back my beer as I threw her my smooth smile, but when my eyes met hers, my stomach sank, because there was nothing—no spark—and I knew I’d already grown tired of a conversation that had only just begun. How was it possible to feel lonely when this woman was standing right in front of me?
“I just moved here from Chicago. Moved in with my best friend.” I tilted my head in Trey’s direction, who was already chatting up another woman, a brunette with a short bob. By the way she angled toward him, I could tell my boy was doing well. “How about you? You grow up here?”
“Born and raised in Manhattan. Most people here are transfers, but this is the place I call home.” She crossed her legs, her skirt hitching up higher on her thighs. “I didn’t catch your name. I’m Denise.” A flirtatious smile crossed her face as she seductively bit her lower lip.