Page 8 of Billion Dollar Dispute

“Sheesh,” I mutter with a shake of my head.

“Yeah, so I just need to be sober when I date.” She laughs.

I laugh too. “And have sex.”

“Definitely. Or at least know him sober before jumping into bed with him,” she adds with a grin, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“How are you so positive?” I ask, amazed by her resilience. She's joking and laughing, even though she’s been hurt. Meanwhile, just thinking about my situation makes my stomach harden.

“Therapy,” she says simply.

The idea of therapy hasn’t crossed my mind; I’ve been so busy since Butch’s arrest three months ago.

“Have you seen one?” she asks.

I shake my head. “No.”

The glass building we need to enter comes into view. The modern skyscraper stands out against the older buildings around it. We slow our walking pace, then pause on the sidewalk to finish our conversation.

“Are you anti-therapy?” she asks, her eyes searching mine.

“Not at all.” I blow out a breath that fogs in the cold air. “I just don’t know if I’m ready.”

She reaches into her purse to pull something out. “Take my therapist’s card for when you're ready to book an appointment.”

I take the card, staring at how worn out it is. There’s no point in making an appointment now. I don't have time. Every spare moment, I’ve been pouring over the numbers, and paperwork, scrutinizing every expense and revenue stream. The deeper I dig, the clearer it becomes…this place is drowning in debt. I have to focus on making this business profitable, because it’s sinking fast into the red.

Chapter 3

Harvey

“Harvey, let’s go again,”my latest hookup says, her voice high-pitched and echoing off the walls of her dimly lit bedroom.

“Maybe another time.”

“Baby, come on,” she purrs.Baby?I’m older than her… The nickname is making my dick soft. I clearly drank way too much. Work has been a nightmare lately, and I thought I needed a release.

We met earlier at a bar, and I left my friends, Eriq and Gabino, to take her home.

Technically, not my home, because I don’t let anyone come to my place, especially not a hookup. So we’re at hers, while her roommates are still out partying. As soon as I came in, I noticed her room was a mess. Everything is in shades of pink, including the bedsheets we’re on. Make-up is scattered across the vanity, and clothes are thrown everywhere…draped over chairs, piles on the floor, and spilling out of drawers.

“One more round,” she begs, her voice like nails on a chalkboard.

Fuck me. I need to get the fuck out of here, and fast.

I stare up at the cracked ceiling. I’ll get up and get the hell out of here as soon as the room stops spinning.

Her hand wraps around my middle, and she snuggles into me, her naked body pressing against my side. Her skin is warm and slightly sweaty. The smell of my alcohol and her cheap perfume fills the air, making my stomach turn.

“Feel better?” I ask, not because I care, but because it’s the right thing to do.

“Yeah, that was amazing. You're amazing,” she purrs, her heavy lashes fluttering against her cheeks.

“Thanks.” I make the mistake of looking at her again. She’s staring at me, clearly waiting for me to say something nice. I force myself to say the next few words. “You were great.” The words taste bitter. That’s what I get for lying.

“Did you want to lie on the couch?” she asks, her expression hopeful.

I’m about to say maybe, but then she adds, “Also, are you free tomorrow? Maybe you could meet my parents.”

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