Page 10 of Claiming Atlas
She wants Kincaid Summers.
But after Friday night, Kincaid is history.
Me:Can’t. I’m at work.
Collette:Work? You mean that strip club you’re ditching in a few days? It can wait. This can’t.
My phone beeps again with another text as I wait for her to go away.
Collette:It has to do with a certain rock band you love.
My ears perk up. If she’s trying to bait me by bringing up my favorite musicians, it won’t work.
I stare at my phone for a long time, then sigh loudly, wishing she could hear it. “Fine,” I say as I open the call log, press the last missed call, and wait for that smug ‘hello’.
“Honey, playing hard to get is really not your style.”
“Hey, Coll.”
“How are tips tonight?”
After pulling off my long purple gloves, I blow a breath through my nose and step out of my sequin dress. It looks amazing under the lights on stage, but is more uncomfortable than anything I own. “I think we both know you’re not calling to see how they’re tipping tonight.”
Collette laughs. “Ah, but if it’s slow, you may be more apt to agree to my little proposal.”
Shaking my head, I slip into a mini dress the same shade of red as my sequined gown—still playing the part of the cartoon vixen, albeit a bit more comfortably.
“I’m not working after Friday. We’ve been over this.”
She’s persistent as hell, but one of the first people I met when I moved to Vegas. I have Collette to thank for the last five years, and what those five years have done for my future. My big retirement and subsequent move back home are all thanks to the doors she opened for me.
Which means I occasionally owe her something.
Usually I’m eager to oblige. I mean, she’s an amazing friend on top of being so instrumental in my career, and I’d do just about anything for my friends.
But not this time.
“Honey, listen, I know you’re hanging it up, and I get that, really I do”—but does she?—“we all want to hang up the heels someday.” Ha. Collette will be buried in her Louboutins, don’t even kid. “But my little soiree Saturday night has just been upgraded to a full-blown can’t miss event... at least where you’re concerned.”
“They’re always can’t miss events.” I assess my reflection and tuck some loose strands back up under the bright red wig.
“This is true. I do know how to plan an event, don’t I?” She chuckles softly. “I have two words for you, hon: Banging. Cade.”
My eyes widen. I’d completely forgotten she’d mentioned Cade in her earlier text when trying to get me to call her. “I’m listening.”
She laughs triumphantly. Hmph. “You’ll never guess who I...sat next toon the plane tonight, hon.”
I’m going to ignore the way she saidsat next tobecause her tone impliessat on. I roll my eyes, but its forced nonchalance because I’ve been in love with this band since before they’d even made it to headliner status. She knows it. I know it. Playing it cool is futile.
“Someone from Banging Cade?” I hold my breath.
I don’t even have a favorite. Most girls are obsessed with Chris or Cade, but... I love all the boys equally. So much raw talent in one little package of five incredibly attractive guys. Not an ugly one in the bunch, which is remarkable in and of itself.
“Atlas Reynolds.”
My breath flies out in a whoosh. Holy shit. Okay, so maybe I have a favorite.
“Kayla, honey, you still with me?” She laughs, knowing damn well how I feel about Atlas. God, that dark hair and those dark, tortured eyes... he’s the epitome of bad decisions.
