Page 78 of When Hearts Collide

Ryland makes a sharp turn into the glass corridor leading to his office. His head is now dipped toward his phone, his fingers pressing a few buttons before he lifts the phone back to his ears. He unlocks his door and strides inside, dropping off his briefcase on a chair before walking to the large windows and staring out into the courtyard.

My steps slow, and I take a calming breath. And another. But nothing seems to slow my heart, which is thumping like a certain cartoon roadrunner running away from a coyote all the while screeching “beep beep.”

I can do this. Life is too short for regrets. I should know that out of everyone.

Heaving out one big exhale, I walk to his opened door.

“Anytime is fine, but nighttime is preferred.” His voice is deep, smooth like chocolate. Of course, he’s commanding someone on the phone, my big brute.

I hear faint sounds of the other person responding, but since his phone isn’t on speaker, it’s impossible to make out the words.

“Monday night at seven works. Yes, Noire at The Orchid.”

My brows furrow. Noire. That sounds familiar.

“The entire club. No other patrons. I want brunette, long hair, blue eyes, five-foot-four give or take, and…” he pauses for a brief second, as if wavering and pinches the bridge of his nose, “younger, early twenties, can pass as a college student.”

What? Is he describing me to someone on the phone? And why does Noire ring a bell?

I take out my phone and text Grace, who knows a lot more about The Orchid than I do, since she worked as a dancer for a brief stint at their burlesque club, Trésor, before she got together with Steven.

Millie

Do you know a place called Noire?

Three dots appear immediately, then disappear and reappear once more.

Grace

Yeah. It’s a club within The Orchid. Why do you ask?

Millie

I was going to talk to Ryland like we discussed, but he’s on the phone right now and I heard him mention Noire and then described me to whoever he’s calling. What’s this place?

A few seconds pass by, the three dots taunting me. I tap my foot on the marble floors as her response comes through.

Grace

Um. I’m just going to tell you straight up. Noire is one of the specialty sex clubs on one of the Rose floors in The Orchid. It’s a large indoor space decorated to resemble the outdoors. There’s a fake forest, abandoned buildings, and other structures in there.

My stomach plummets and I grip my phone tightly while re-reading her words.

“There are rumors he’s a beast in bed and gets off from chasing willing women in their sex clubs. I totally wouldn’t mind him hunting me down.” My classmate’s words on the first day I met Ryland at ULA ring in my mind.

Sex clubs. Chasing. Hunting.

He’s arranging for sex with some random woman who resembles me?

My heart stops, the coyote on the verge of finally nabbing the roadrunner, and a scorching heat floods my body. My hands shake, my eyes burn, and the telltale moisture gathering there tells me I’m seconds away from losing it. My mind is filled with images of him pinning another woman down, giving her his lips, his caresses, his bites, and a sharp agony slices through me as I try and fail to control the pain forming in my chest.

How dare he? How could he not give us a chance and instead decide to be with someone else?

How could he?

Swiftly, I turn away and stalk back in the direction I came from. The agony radiating from behind my rib cage squeezes my lungs and wetness blurs my vision. My phone pings.

Grace

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