Page 3 of Recon Rendezvous

Huh, good luck with what? Has he forgotten who I am?

Eli continues to laugh, swiping at the tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Calming down enough to finally speak, he stands and repeats, “Yeah, man, good luck with that.” Before sauntering to the dance floor to join the others.

Drew meets my eyes with a smirk. What the hell have I missed?

“You know hooking up at weddings is bad luck, man. All this glittery, romantic shit? Yeah, you might as well put that shackle on now.”

“Nah, you know I’m allergic to romance. I’m just happy the wedding wasn’t in a church. I would have blown up like Xander-fetti. Besides, I’m not like those idiots. I’m too young for all that forever shit.” Twenty-nine is way too young to be locked down.

“Sure, but I’m calling it now. Even if you don’t catch the bouquet tonight, you’re fucking next.”

Scoffing, I turn back to the dance floor, needing just one more glimpse of her. But as I search the crowd, there’s no London in sight.

She’s gone.

Three Months Later… Chicago

Ifuckinglove Chicago. Stepping out into the bustling city street, I shake off the hectic morning of calls, meetings, and mini crises of my investment banking firm.

Pulling in a deep breath of crisp air, I roll my shoulders to ease the tension building, wishing I had time to get in another swim to wash away the morning. I hate working weekends, but a stomach bug swept through the team this week, taking down my managing director, CIO, and who knows how many others. Butmoney talks and it comes with the territory of being the CEO. This place is my pride and joy, founded six years ago, and we're a fucking juggernaut in this town. If there are two things I’m good at, it’s analyzing data and making calculated decisions. It’s why we’re so reputable. I may be the guy you call when you want to have a good time, but I’m always the guy you call when there’s money on the line.

Taking in the eclectic crowd traipsing the sidewalks, my love for this city expands. We go hard for our sports teams, tricking people into tasting Malört, and any event that involves drinking. And that's never truer than Saint Patrick's Day. I’m ready to put the morning behind me, and I briefly consider taking the scenic route so I can see the green river.

Checking my watch, it’s just past noon and it’s time to meet up with the crew and go crazy. St. Paddy’s Day is one of my favorite holidays. You drink all day and fuck all night. You really can’t go wrong with that combo. I don't even need the luck of the Irish.

Jumping into the back of my waiting SUV, I meet my driver Karina’s blue eyes in the mirror. “Step on it. I need a green beerexpeditiously.” She laughs, as I bend, grabbing the bag with a change of clothes.

“Alright, ma’am, eyes up front. I need to change.”

She shakes her head, pulling away from the curb. “No problem,sir.I don’t know how many times I have to tell you. You aren’t my type.”

Yanking off my tie, I scoff. “I’m everyone’s type. Look at me.” I flutter my lashes and rattle off the shit that’s written about me or even worse, I hear from women. “Myenigmaticeyes, sexy just fucked hair, Adonis physique, and huge…feet,all aboard a boatload of money. What’s not to love?”

She rolls her eyes. “I like them busty. Bouncy. Petite and sweet. You’re none of those things.”

I grunt, pulling on my T-shirt. “Well, your taste sucks, unless she’s coming home with me, but I’m glad we can keep our relationship professional. I really can’t have you lusting after me like the other ones did.”

Her eyes shoot to mine again. “Seriously?”

No, but I can’t help pulling her leg. “Eyes front! Yeah. This was just a test, and you passed.” She’s been driving for me for about six weeks, and she was finally warming up to me. Pulling my jeans over my green and gold shamrock boxers, I zip up before reaching for my boots. We should be pulling up toCeltic, the first stop of our bar crawl, in less than five. Tossing the rest of my shit in the back, I pull on my favorite green ND beanie with the poofy pom and push up the sleeves of my matching zip up hoodie. Making sure I have my phone and cash, I sit back and drum my fingers on my thighs.

“If your female drivers keep falling for you, why don’t you try male drivers?”

I give her a look. “I was just kidding. Sort of. I have had a few that were too interested in what was going on in the backseat when I was entertaining. But I enjoy the eye candy.”

She laughs. “Pig.”

“Hey, watch it. And that’s Mr. Pig to you.” There was a joke in there about pulled pork, but I’m too lazy to make it work.

Double parking outside of the bar, the sidewalks and street are crammed with people and it’s like a parade of green in every direction. “Thanks, Karina. I’m going to be out for a while on this crawl. I’ll text you later if I need a ride, but maybe someone will be riding me, if you catch my drift.”

She gags. “Good luck, but I’m sure I’ll be hearing from you later.”

I clutch my chest. “Damn, your lack of confidence in me cuts deep.”

She huffs. “Whatever. Get out.”

Shooting her a salute, I slide out of the SUV. Fuck, even with the sun shining bright, it’s still windy and cold as hell. I’m glad I grabbed my sweatshirt, I think with a shiver, as I zip it up to my neck. But taking a look around, several ladies were fooled and are exposing some skin. Flirty girls bouncing all around today. Have I mentioned this is my favorite holiday? Rubbing my hands together, I laugh. This holiday is for kings.

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