Page 68 of Slumming It
Fuck.
No way was I saying it again. I hadn't meant to say it the first time, and a repeat performance wasn't gonna happen. I stood. "What's your favorite vodka?"
She stared up at me. "Why?"
"Because I'm gonna get you some."
"You don't need to do that. Champagne is great. Or at least itwillbe."
She was wrong – and not about the champagne.I needed to get the hell away from her, if only to clear my head. "Your favorite vodka," I repeated. "Don't make me guess."
"I don't have a favorite."
Bullshit.Everyone had a favorite. "What do you normally get?"
"Whatever's on sale." But then she winced. "That sounded pretty low-class, didn’t it?"
Not to me, it didn't. I had plenty of money and didn't mind spending it. But something about Emily's honesty was refreshing – and dangerous to my assumptions. She was weaseling her way under my skin, and the messed-up thing was, I found myself liking it.
This wasn't part of the plan.
If I were smart, I'd ditch her now and call it good. If I were smarter, I would leave town tonight and never return.
But I wasn't feeling smart. I was feeling all kinds of fucked up, like a machine that had been suddenly reset. Earlier, she'd called me a machine – incapable of love or hate.
She'd been only half right. Hating came easy. But love? I wasn't that kind of guy.
No reset was gonna changethat.
I didn't respond to her question. Instead, I turned away, heading toward the stairs. When I reached them, I gave Emily asingle backward glance. When our gazes met across the distance, she gave me a confused look, as if wondering what the hell was going on.
It was a good question.
But as far as answers, I had none.
Chapter 26
Emily
I watched Reese Murdock until he disappeared down the open stairway and reemerged several moments later on the lower level, wading his way through the jostling crowd.
As he moved toward the main bar, several people turned to stare – notallof them, but enough of them to indicate that he wasn't going completely unrecognized.
Or maybe they were just looking at his clothes. They were excessively casual among the dress slacks and button-down shirts worn by other men. And yet, I saw more than one woman turn to stare in obvious admiration as he passed her by.
Embarrassingly, I knew exactly how she felt. Even if he had been Joe Blow at some gas station, I still would have turned to stare.
All things considered, I should have been happy. So far, things were going much better than I'd anticipated. We'd gotten into the club just fine, and Nikki and Morgan were nowhere in sight.
Plus, I'd gotten that unexpected apology. As far as apologies went, it wasn't the best I'd ever heard. But it wasn't the absolute worst either.
In the case of Curtis,hehadn't apologized at all. Instead, he'd acted likeIwas the crazy one for taking offense at how he'd been sucking up to Morgan and Nikki in spite of their rudeness tome.
In contrast, Reese Murdock sucked up to nobody. When it came to ass-kissing, he was the kissee, not the kisser. And everyone knew that he wasn't the apologizing type.
So, what did his apology mean?
He couldn't have been truly sorry – unless he was regretting giving me so much money to avoid apologizing at all. Onimpulse, I reached down and patted the front pocket of my jeans, reassuring myself that the cash was still there.
