Page 7 of Second Time Around
Kyra would also provide a buffer against Petra. His ex-fiancée would be more likely to keep her distance if he had a date. He should have thought of that tactic sooner.
Most tempting of all, Kyra would carry him back to the college days when he’d been able to shrug off the weight of the world’s expectations. Exhilarating days when he had studied just for the sake of knowledge. No balance sheets, no stockholders.
His meeting with Kyra had forced him to admit to the restless dissatisfaction that grumbled through the back of his mind during every meeting, every restaurant opening, and every proposed acquisition these days. His partner Greg accused him of being a champion of the status quo every time Will shot down a new product idea. When Greg really wanted to piss Will off, he claimed Will was turning into his father.
But Kyra had flooded his veins with the intoxicating elixir of carefree, potential-filled youth. He wanted to feel that again.
So he walked through the stainless steel portal the doorman swept open.
Bracing himself for a barrage of overloud music and headache-inducing strobe lights, he was pleasantly surprised by the restrained elegance of the entrance foyer’s blue floor and white columns, both of solid marble. Only the ceiling hinted at the club’s theme, with a painted sky that included a swath of indistinct white clouds—he assumed that was an authentic depiction of a stratus formation, since the word came from a Latin prefix meaning “layer.”
“Welcome to the Stratus Club, sir.” A young blonde woman with exceedingly long legs shown off by a slit in her white skirt approached him. “Is this your first visit with us?”
“It is.”
“If you’ll come with me, we’ll make sure you are well taken care of.” She clicked across the floor in her high heels, leading him through another brushed stainless steel door.
In the anteroom, a man in a dark suit scanned Will’s credit card and handed him a small silver ingot stamped with a cloud and anS. “Just touch the server’s tablet with this and it will take care of payment.”
Will slipped the ingot into his breast pocket and followed the willowy blonde through the foyer and into the hum of conversation filling the main room. It was furnished in a tasteful, understated style with silver-gray upholstery and various hues of blue infusing the carpeting and walls. Projected on the ceiling was a sky with clouds of various configurations moving across it as though on a windy day. While he watched, the sky began to glow with the colors of sunset, throwing a warm light over the well-dressed patrons sipping their cocktails.
“Would you prefer a table or a booth?” the hostess asked.
“A seat at the bar.”
“Of course.”
She swayed between the marble-topped tables and capacious chairs, leading him to a side room where the clouds continued to wash across the ceiling. One wall of the space was occupied by a long bar of intricately grained wood. Blue marble topped it while the same stonematerial was inset into panels behind the shelves, which held bottles of expensive liquor.
Will scanned the decor for only a moment before his gaze snagged on the woman wielding a silver cocktail shaker like a master.
Kyra. She was wearing a fitted black sleeveless top that showed a tantalizing amount of cleavage, as well as graceful but well-toned arms. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders in ripples that caught glints of the pinks and golds of the artificial sunset. Her generous mouth was curved into a smile that hinted at some private amusement. That smile had always tempted him to kiss her as though he could somehow taste the laughter on her lips.
Awareness surged through him with an unexpected heat ... and he remembered that night. The frat party, where he’d gone to drown the still-smarting injury Babette had inflicted on his fragile male ego. It had been a couple of days after he’d caught her screwing another guy in her bedroom. Kyra had witnessed his humiliation, offering awkward sympathy as he tried to pretend that he didn’t care. Her kindness had made him feel like an even bigger idiot.
His frat brothers had attempted to console him by revealing that the slime bucket was just one of several others whom Babette screwed while she was supposedly his girlfriend. Their flawed logic had been that she couldn’t be faithful to anyone, so it wasn’t only him.
Earlier that day, he’d had a final confrontation with Babette, who didn’t understand what his problem was. His response had been simple: “I don’t share.” And he’d walked away.
But he was still pissed off, so he’d headed for the party and downed several shots. He’d already switched to beer when he saw Kyra walk in with a couple of other sophomore women.
Even through the haze of alcohol, he knew he should look out for her. She wasn’t accustomed to rowdy parties like this one. When two of his frat brothers eyed Kyra up and down, he decided to intervene.
Someone had gotten her a beer by the time he had wedged his way through the crush of sweaty bodies. She sipped it as though she didn’t really like it, while she laughed and flirted with the two guys. He’d hesitated for a moment, thinking that maybe she wouldn’t appreciate his interference. But then a third brother had come up behind her, snaking his arm around her waist and pulling her back against him. Will was sure the asshole had a hard-on that he was grinding into Kyra.
Will lost it, slamming his fellow frat brother in the shoulder to knock him away from Kyra before hurling the contents of his half-drunk beer in the cretin’s face.
He’d grabbed Kyra’s hand and towed her out the front door before the asshole could retaliate. He would deal with the guy later. Right then he’d just wanted to get Kyra out of there.
“Will? What brings you to Stratus?” The surprise and pleasure in Kyra’s voice jerked him back from his stagger down memory lane.
He slid onto the high bar chair. “You.”
Kyra nearly dropped the cocktail shaker. “Seriously?”
Will smiled, his teeth flashing in the fake sunset. “You didn’t call, so I had no choice but to track you down with the only piece of information I had.”
“I’m pretty sure you could just Google my address.” She tried to sound cool after her very uncool first reaction to his appearance. God, he looked good in that charcoal suit. The pale gray shirt and dark tie made his eyes blaze even brighter green, and his shoulders looked even wider than she remembered.
