Page 3 of David's Love

Forever against settling down with someone, they have crossed paths with me more than once when it comes to enjoying the company of women.

We happen to like the same type of woman, and not surprisingly, we’ve stumbled upon each other in some of the most exclusive gentlemen’s clubs around the world.

So, I’m not surprised he is probing me about my women.

Although, Elizabeth might not be what he has in mind.

“Is she someone I know?” he asks before binging his drink to his lips.

This is one of the things when you’re in this game. No one is in it to get married. And since we’re not playing it to get hitched, a recommendation can go far for all parties involved.

But this is not the game I’m playing now.

In fact, I’ve moved away from it.

I move my gaze over his eyes.

Gavin Livingston and his brother, Bret, have had some of the most beautiful women in Colorado. Their appetite for having fun with them, rewarding them for their time, and moving on with the probity and precision of a Swiss watch has only been matched by mine.

But things don’t feel the same for me right now.

“No. Not in the slightest,” I rush to say, doubling down on my lie.

I don’t think he knows Elizabeth, but he’s surely familiar with James’ inner circle.

So, dropping her name and hinting at her connection to James will most likely spark interest in this story, which isn’t something I indulge in. In fact, I’d like to avoid that at all costs.

“How come?” he asks after swallowing his hard liquor and reading my eyes.

“I’m trying something different this time,”’ I say before taking a sip myself.

A knowing smile curves his lips.

“Hmm…” he says, briefly looking down. “So if she’s not married or a dancer, what is she… A college student?”

The blood drains from my face.

The good thing is that only a sliver of light glows across our faces, and some of my displeasure remains hidden in the dark.

Fuck.

I hate how predictable this thing is.

But what else is there, right?

I have a hard time answering his question.

“Don’t tell me…” he murmurs before emptying his glass and pivoting to a nearby table to set it down. “Does she work for you? I totally understand it if she does,” he says.

He knows we have a strict policy against affairs at work.

A newly written one.

Yes, things had been wild before James got married, but now, we have to go public or keep it outside the office. And preferably with someone from outside the office as well.

No one wants that type of complication at work.

“She’s neither,” I say. “She’s a writer.”

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