Page 45 of Destined To Fall

“I think the fermentation negates the ability to use it as one of your daily two.”

“Semantics.”

She studies me for a moment too long, and I fight the urge to squirm under her gaze. Even in college,Laura could see right through me like I was nothing more than a pane of glass.

“Have you had enough?”

I ponder that for a minute, knowing she’s not referring to the wine.

I have everything I’ve ever wanted. The decked-out apartment, the wardrobe some celebrities would die for, and complete and utter independence. Not one cent came from my parents’ trust fund, and to me, that is worth every pound of flesh I’ve paid. Laura and I worked damn hard to get me to this point. It sure wasn’t easy or always pleasant. Shitty client after shitty client until I made a place for myself in the right—or wrong, depending how you look at it—circles. Now I have it incredibly easy. I want for nothing.

But have I had enough?

“Let’s go to Vegas for the weekend!”

Laura raises an eyebrow in response.

“Come on. It’ll be fun.”

“Last time you said that,I wound up naked in a bathtub full of condoms.”

Alaughbursts outat the memory. I’ve never been into drugs, not even the recreational kind. I get my kicks elsewhere, but Laura used to like to dabble before she became a fancy lawyer. We drove to Atlanta on a whim—mine, not hers—and bumped into one of Lewis’s A-list clients at the casino. He’d seen me with him the night we met. As men do, the details were shared, rather explicitly, and I was commandeered for a night. One night turned into a weekend of hard partying and endless sex.

“You can’t blame me for that. I didn’t get you high or force you to dance naked around the condo.”

“No, that was the tequila.”

“You went to pee and never came back. Inoticed, eventually,” I tease. She was completely fine—just fell asleep. How she ended up in the tub will always remain a mystery.

“Real nice.”

I shrug.“It was a memorable weekend.”

“One for the books. But I’m not repeating it, and you have Maxwell tomorrow night.”

“Ah, fuck.”

Laura raises a brow.

“I forgot.”

“Okay, something is up, and don’t tell me there isn’t. I’ll get to the bottom of it sooner or later.”

My lip twitches, knowing she’ll try and fail—I hope.

God, I don’t want to be here. I want to be anywherebuthere. I vetoed Maxwell picking me up and caught a cab to the“exclusive” location of the back-room poker game. Skeeze, the douche we met the last time, had messaged Max, telling him where and when. So, here I am, down a filthy alley, shivering my tits off,waiting for Max. I may have balls of steel most days, but hell no am I walking in there alone. Not that Max will be any good to me if something goes down.

The silver Bentley I’ve come to recognize as Max’s town car pulls to a stop at the lip of the alley. My stilettos echo off the brick walls as I storm toward it.

“’Bout fucking time, Max. Where the hell have you been?”

“We got lost.”

God help me.

“Someone’s got their knickers in a knot.”

I roll my eyes and make for the back entrance.

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