Page 19 of Final Serenade

Should have worn a skirt, Cassy.

I refilled my drink purely out of habit and pushed my way through the baked crowd. I needed to pee. Badly.

My shoes tapped against the parquet floor as I continued into a hallway. There was no light here and the first door to my right happened to be locked.

“Shit,” I muttered, taking a deep breath. My stomach lurched.

Voices behind me became muffled background noise. My blurry gaze carefully skimmed over the wall and registered another door. I reached for the handle and pushed it open.

The room was dark, but the blinds weren’t shut, which gave me a perfect opportunity to witness a potential scandal. The silhouettes of two bodies molded together were drawn against the shimmering backdrop of L.A. nightlife. I wasn’t a prude; I watched porn. But I’d never seen two men having sex. The view gave me the best kind of brain freeze. I stood there with my mouth agape and my spine wrapped in pleasant chills, and I watched their beautiful bodies slickly moving together until one of them finally noticed me.

“What the fuck?” His head snapped in my direction.

“Sorry,” I mumbled. “Carry on.” I pulled the door shut.

My mind was spiraling out of control as I continued along. Then my bladder reminded me why I’d come to this part of Dante’s penthouse. The place was huge. I hadn’t realized that there was another wing here, quiet and free of the rowdy rock ’n’ roll bunch that was trashing the living room and the kitchen.

I floated through the hallway until I saw another door that was ajar. When I pushed it open and walked in, hoping to find a restroom, my leg banged into something hard.

“Fucking hell.” I winced as my kneecap wept.

The room was pitch-black, and my drunk eyes couldn’t make out anything. My body wobbled as my hands inspected the air. After distancing myself from the piece of furniture that had assaulted me, I set my glass on the floor and bent down to hug my legs because the pain was horrible and that seemed like the best way to make it stop.

“There’s a first aid kit in the restroom,” someone said from somewhere across from me.

Electricity surged through my chest. My stomach turned over. I’d recognize that voice in my sleep. It was Frankie’s.

My common sense told me to return myself to a vertical position, but my knee told me to keep doing what I was doing, stay folded in half with my arms wrapped around my thighs and my mouth pressed against the thin fabric of my pants.

“Thanks,” I said meekly. “I just need a minute. Please don’t mind me.”

“I can call 911,” he offered. There was a hint of a smile in his tone. Evidently, my impromptu yoga session amused him.

“That won’t be necessary.”

I heard a click and saw a soft yellow light from the corner of my eye.

You sure know how to impress a man, Cassy.

Drawing a deep breath through my teeth, I released my legs and straightened up. Frankie was sitting in a chair across the room. A drink sat on the table next to him and he looked…tired. Traces of stress and fatigue marred his face.

Beside the table, there was a floor lamp. A large leather couch that apparently had a problem with me separated us.

“We meet again,” I said, smoothing my palms over my pants.

“Three times in one night.”

“Freaky coincidence.”

“I don’t believe in coincidences, Cassy.”

Frankie Blade remembered my name! His words made me high as a kite. In a good way.

“Well…” I paused to collect myself. “I’m not sure what else to call it.” That was the truth.

Warmth filled my stomach when his gunmetal blue eyes caught my gaze.

We stared at each other for a few moments, and I couldn’t think of anything to say. My mind was scrambled. I knew everything there was to know about this man, yet I had no idea how to behave in his presence while I was off the clock.

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