Page 34 of Daddy's Rules

“Got it!” Owen winks at me. “We’re okay now. Thank you. And we’ll take the dress.”

I burst out laughing as soon as I hear the lady leave and Owen kisses my mouth to stop me.

When the lady rings us up, Owen hands her his credit card, looking completely casual, as if nothing out of the ordinary has occurred. But as I smooth my hair, very self-consciously, I can see she has a pretty good idea of what we were doing and knows it didn’t involve soap, even though it was dirty.

* * *

The bar is loud andevery time I look at my dress, I remember what Owen did to me in the change room and feel heat on my cheeks. Riley is on the dance floor with some of the other girls who came out to celebrate her birthday. I’m nursing my drink and watching, knowing I’d need way more alcohol than I intend to have to get out there in this dress. But the music has a good beat and my Cosmo tastes delicious.

I’m trying to ignore the man staring at me from across the bar. I frown. He probably recognizes me. I’m considering actually going out to the dance floor to avoid his gaze when someone comes to his table and his attention is taken. I grab my drink and find another table, hoping he’ll think I’ve left.

I wave as Riley comes off the dance floor, sweaty and smiling.

“C’mon, Jords. Dance with us,” she says, elongating the us. I smile. She’s tipsy and adorable. A popular Spanish song comes on and she grabs my hand. “No pining over Owen, let’s dance!”

“And what makes you think I’m pining?” I ask, shouting over the loud thumping. She rolls her eyes, smiling crookedly.

“Because he’s friggin’ hot and I know you two have a thing for each other, but aren’t admitting it.” She yanks me and I’m up on my feet, a little wobbly, not from the Cosmo, but from the heels I’m not used to wearing.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure we’ve admitted it now,” I say and catch my lip between my teeth.

Riley’s eyes widen. “Oh. My. God. Spill!” she demands breathlessly. One of the others comes back and plops down at our table, so I let Riley drag me onto the dance floor.

I tell her a little about the fitting room, but it’s too loud to get into details. I get swept up in the music and stay with her and the others for five songs before I head to the bar to order us each another cocktail even though I still have one at the table. When I get back to the table, hot and slick with perspiration, I down my drink.

The guy that had been staring all night is suddenly beside me. He smiles and asks if he can buy me another.

“I just ordered one, thanks.” One of the girls drops in the chair across from me and smiles at the guy beside me.

“You can buy me one,” she says and he immediately heads to her side of the table. I chuckle and look for Riley. She mouths the words ‘I’m coming’ and takes some guy’s hand following him back on to the dance floor. That’s when I spot a familiar but drastically out of place face.

Greg.Kari-Anne’s assistant. Shit! My eyes dart around the room. If Greg’s here, so is Kari-Anne, but I can’t see her. I relax a little when Riley returns and assures me we can sneak out and go to another bar after our drink.

“No need hanging out here and risk having your face plastered on the tabloids and being features on Kari-Anne’s vlog tomorrow.”

When our Cosmos arrive, I shout above the booming music, “Happy birthday!” And lift my drink high, clinking it with hers. “To a fabulous year!” I say and she smirks.

“To the hot men we’re going home to tonight!”

“Oh, I’ll definitely drink to that.”

* * *

I’m a little disorientedand can’t remember where I am as I lift my head from my knees. I’m sitting on a floor. Music is resonating a salsa beat through the hallway and my head is throbbing. A couple of giggling women come out of the bathroom and don’t even look at me as they pass. It’s then I remember I was at a club with Riley.

Where the hell is she? And why am I on the floor? I look around and then try to stand. The walls start to spin so I sit back down. I reach for my purse, which is thankfully over my shoulder, and shuffle through it for my cell.

It takes me several minutes to find it, my bag is full and I’m feeling lethargic, but when I do I’m shocked at the time. It’s two in the morning. The last thing I remember was clinking glasses with Riley and that was at ten.

I try to concentrate but it almost hurts to think. I remember the group coming back to the table, I remember lots of laughing and all of us dancing for a long time. Then, I think we left the bar. I rub my head. Yes, we went down the street, stopped at a street meat cart... I’m sweating just trying to think as if it’s physical labor.

The music in the background... it’s salsa. Did we go to a salsa dance club?

Blinking in disbelief, I note the twenty-three messages on my phone. I’m alarmed at my fuzzy memory and attempt to rise again. This time I make it to my feet but kick off my shoes before I take a step. I’m too unsteady to walk in them. Heading down the hall toward the music, shoes in one hand, I search my phone for texts.

There are several from Riley asking where I am, but the others make me swallow hard. They’re all from Owen and they’re increasingly more urgent and threatening—in a way that makes my knees weak with want and my gut sink with trepidation. I gather a breath and call Riley first.

“Hello?” It’s a garbled voice but it’s my friend.

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