Page 22 of 7 Nights of Sin

"It does. Here," she said, pushing another drink over to me. "This one's on me. You give me good business, and it's sad to see someone as handsome as you looking so down." She winked and then pushed another drink my way before going to take care of another customer.

I smiled. It was nice to get preferential treatment sometimes. I worked hard at my skill and the thing that made me a top tier athlete, and I didn't think there was anything wrong with taking advantage of the admiration of the people from time to time.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I knocked back the rest of the drink before fishing it out, smirking when I saw the text was from Caro.

What the hell?was all it said.

Short, angry, and to the point. Just like the woman herself. My smirk turned into a pleased grin.

I considered ordering another drink, but instead I left a fifty-dollar bill under my glass, gave the pretty bartender a little wave, and then stepped outside.

There was a chill in the air, and I leaned against the side of the building, one hand in my pocket while I hit the 'call' button on the screen of my phone.

It rang for a second, and then Caro's clipped tones came on. "What the hell are you doing?" she demanded.

"Hello, Caro. I hope you're having a good night. Probably still in the office if I know you, and I'm pretty sure I do."

I could just imagine her scowling.

"I don't have time for pleasantries," she muttered. "Why did you send flowers to my office?"

"Why not?" I responded. "You're helping me out. Fixing my terrible reputation or whatever. Maybe I just wanted to show my appreciation."

There was a moment of silence, while she apparently processed that. "And the coffee?" she asked.

I grinned wider. "Caro. You live on coffee. You're basically a workaholic. I knew you could use it."

She sighed. "Well. Whatever. Don't do it again. You can't send gifts to my office. I'm working as your publicist right now, and it can come off as looking like bribes. I don't need that."

I hadn't considered that, and I nodded. "Okay. Fair. Sure. I'll just send things to your apartment instead. What's your address?"

"I am not giving you my address," she said. "What are you trying to do here, Kevin? And don't lie to me. You're a fucking terrible liar."

"Please," I replied with a smile. I'm an excellent liar. You're just too good at seeing through me. You always have been."

"Not always," she muttered, and I wanted to ask, but figured it was better to just press on.

"Like I said, I want to show my appreciation. I know you're putting in a lot of work for me. And...I want us to be okay, I guess. I know we agreed to be friendly or whatever, but sometimes it feel like you hate me. I want to make things better."

That wasn't the whole truth, of course, but I couldn't tell her the whole thing. She'd immediately shoot it down, and then I'd feel like a dick for pursuing it.

"You don't have to send me shit, Kevin," she said. "I've told you it's fine. I'm over it. I've moved on with my life, and you obviously have, so there's no need to dwell on it. I can be a professional about this if you can."

It sounded like she wanted nothing more than a truce, but that wasn't good enough for me. I missed the way we'd been so close that we could practically read each other's minds back in college, and I knew I wasn't going to be satisfied with professional distance for the next however long and then never seeing her again.

I wanted more than that from her, but I didn't know what she wanted.

She was still the girl I'd been so into back in college, but she'd gotten more beautiful, more headstrong, and it was so damned alluring to me.

"I'm always professional," I said with a grin. "You don't need to worry."

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