Page 68 of The Secret

“Yep.”

The doorman hailed us a cab, and two minutes later, we were lost in a sea of yellow and a cacophony of loud honking. Payton smoothed down her jumpsuit, crossing her legs with atutalmost as loud as the honking.

“No offense, but I wouldn’t have a threesome with you. It would be too weird.”

“I’m not offended. I wouldn’t have a threesome with you either.”

“Why not?” Her tone was incredibly indignant considering she’d just told me the exact same thing.

“You want me to list the reasons?”

Her eyes bugged far too dramatically for a hypothetically based chat. “There’s a whole list?!”

“Okay, this is a stupid conversation. What’s wrong?”

Her huff summed up our days exactly. “Jackson Foggerty is a huge dick. God! Why did he have to be such a dick? Now I need to find someone else to fantasize over.”

“I’m sorry, babe. Some people are dicks.” I put my arm around her in comfort. “We just need to drink the day away and have some fun.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Oh look, we’re here.”

Payton knocked into me on my side of the cab as it swerved to a sharp halt outside the orange door signaling the entrance to Vitamin D. She righted herself while I passed a twenty to the driver and hopped out behind her.

We found a sharply dressed hostess standing by an elevator inside a very small entrance, so small it only contained the elevator doors. She was so sharply dressed it made me feel less overdressed, or at least less aware of how little I was wearing, and how high my heels were.

“Ms. Hawkes?”

“Yes?”

“We’ve been expecting you. Welcome to Vitamin D, this way please.” She pressed the button and the doors opened immediately. “Your table is waiting.”

I felt my attempt to not show any shred of surprise that this woman didn’t only know my name but also had a table waiting was award worthy, maybe not a Jackson Foggerty Oscar, but certainly a Golden Globe.

“Thank you.”

Payton pounced the second the doors closed.

“Did you book it? How did they know your name?”

I figured it out as we were shown to our table, easily the best in the bar with views heading out toward the East River on one side, and the Empire State Building on the other. It was confirmed when a bottle of champagne we hadn’t ordered arrived with compliments from Murray Williams.

“Wow,” Payton sipped, “this is seriously cool. You didn’t tell me he owned the place.”

I crossed my legs awkwardly, trying to stop my panties from showing, but however I moved, I was certain they did. “I don’t think he does. I think he said he invested in it, whatever that means.”

“He didn’t have to do this. This is seriously nice of him.” She took a long sip. “What happened when he got home?”

I stopped fiddling and focused on Payton with a heavy sigh. “I know. He is kind. He’s kind and sweet and smart and funny. And when he got home, he’d brought with him fifty one enormous long stemmed pink roses, fifty for me and one for Bell. And then when I told him his girlfriend had stopped by, he looked so confused and said he didn’t have one. I believe him, Pay.”

“Fucking hell. Fifty roses? And the one for Bell is adorable. “

My shoulders dropped, weighed down with the tension I’d been carrying since Fatal Attraction had rung the doorbell this morning. I should have let Graham deal with her.

“Yes, it was.”

“What happened?” She leaned forward, waiting for me to answer.

I picked up my glass and took three large gulps, needing something to take the edge off. Almost immediately, a waiter appeared to top us up.

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