Page 7 of Breakup Games

He orders a whiskey—top shelf and neat—and I tell the bartender that I’m waiting for someone so I’ll just have water for now. Matt looks my way a few times and I smile politely and look around, keeping up my act that I’m waiting for a date.

“I think I’m being stood up,” I say after ten minutes go by.

“Sorry to hear that,” Matt replies and finishes his whiskey. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Ummm….” I smile and shake my head. “What the hell, why not?” I scoot down next to him. “Thanks. Maybe my night won’t be so bad after all.”

“Here’s to hoping. You look like a white wine kinda girl.”

“How’d you know?” I flash a big smile, internally groaning. I hardly ever drink and if I’m going to sip on something, I don’t want it to be wine. The vibes coming off this guy already are giving me the biggest ick. What does Whitni see in him?

He orders me a glass of wine and moves his stool closer, making small talk. I keep my purse in my lap so the convo can get picked up on the recorder. It doesn’t take long to confirm Whitni’s suspicions. Matt is a total loser who thinks his shitdon’t stink. Within ten minutes, he’s trying to get me to “get out of here” with him.

“Well,” I start, leaning back with the hopes my body language will clue him in that I’m not leaving here with him. Something tells me I could hand him a piece of paper stating such and he’d just tear it up, not respecting me at all. “Thank you for the drink. I’m so embarrassed I got stood up but the night wasn’t so bad after all.”

“Hey, maybe it worked out after all.” He flashes a smile and even though he’s not all that good looking of a man, he has a charm about him—and he knows it. “Do you want the rest of the bottle?” He motions to the expensive white wine behind the counter. “You can take it home or we can take it upstairs and continue this conversation.”

I look down, tucking my brunette hair behind my ear in a way that makes me appear modest and shy. “I have a rule.”

“A rule?” He widens his legs and moves closer, putting my knees between his thighs. I resist the urge to gag, though this would be a great photo to show Whitni.

“Yes. A rule.” I look back up and smile, meeting his eyes. “I don’t even let someone kiss me until at least the second date. We can’t even consider this a first.”

“Oh, we can’t?” He laughs and even though he gives me bad vibes, I can see how someone like Whitni could get sucked in. She’s a successful woman and for some reason, successful women seem to get fooled by losers like this.

“You didn’t ask me out.”

“Well, Mya,” he says. “Give me your number then.”

“I have a better idea.” I pick up my phone and open a text. “Send yourself a message so I have yours.”

His fingers sweep over my skin—a little too intentionally—as he takes my phone. He fires off a text and his phone vibratesinside his suit jacket pocket. He grabs my wrist as I go to put my phone back in my purse.

“You interest me,” he says quietly, making me lean in so I can hear him. “I will see you again, Mya.”

“We’ll see,” I say back, careful in my movements so I convey fake attraction. The bartender comes over to close out the tab and reach for my purse, though I have no intention of paying.

“I got this,” Matt says and hands the bartender a credit card. I smile and thank him, noticing the name on the credit card that he just handed the bartender. It doesn’t say Matt or even Matthew Baker. It’s a different name entirely, and it’s familiar for some reason but I can’t place it.

Lorenzo Moretti.

Chapter

Five

MASON

The first thing I notice is how her eyes match her dress Emerald green and almost glittering under the lights. She walks right past us, eyes on the bar. But she diverts to a table off to the side, and I have to mentally remind myself that I’m on a mission and I can’t be distracted.

Diego and I are at the Palmer House Hotel in Chicago, trying to get some intel on Enzo. I’m in the lobby and he’s outside, hanging around the rear entrance. My gut tells me it won’t take long before we at least make a visual contact, and my gut is rarely ever wrong.

But right now…right now my head is tipping to the side as I watch the lady in the green dress walk by. She’s pretty, and she has a nice ass as well. I take a sip of my drink and do a quick scan of the room. Other than Green Dress, nothing interesting is going on. My phone dings, and I glance down, seeing if it’s a text from Diego.

It’s not, and I swipe over, turning off notifications because that’ll be the first of many texts in my sibling group chat. The chance of missing something important is slim to none; the chatmostly consists of my sister, Rory, sending baby pictures and my sister in laws Josie and Chloe loving the images.

My eyes flit to her again some time later, and I see her straighten up. Following her gaze, I watch Enzo sit down at the bar. I glance back at Green Dress just in time to see her take a picture then get out a voice recorder. What the hell? She records something and then puts it in her purse, purposely placing it so she can record a conversation.

Then she goes to the bar and sits just a stool away from him.

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