Page 27 of Close Match
Why can’t I make their dreams come true to repay them? I think angrily. Another large swallow of my drink hits the spot, soothing the burning anger bubbling up inside me.
A pretty redhead sidles up next to me. “Can I buy you a new drink?” She bats her eyes at me flirtatiously.
My only response is to narrow my eyes even as I lift my drink again to my lips. I don’t want company; I want the burn the alcohol will provide in my stomach. I want the ache I’ll feel when it hits my stomach.
Pouting, she mutters, “Right,” before she slinks off.
The bartender slides a fresh napkin beneath my drink before I put it down. “Judging by the look on your face, I don’t suppose you’re interested in the three offers of drinks that I’ve been asked to slide your way, right, Monty?”
“Not really, Mike. Not tonight.”
“You’re killing me here, man. You could have anyone you wanted. What are you waiting for?” he asks exasperatedly.
Scanning the room filled with people who don’t see beyond their immediate needs, I shrug. Standing, I pull out a few bills and toss them next to my drink. “I think I’m looking for a miracle. And I’m not going to find it here.”
“Dude, I could have told you that before you walked in the door,” he laughs. Holding out his hand, he reaches over and grabs mine. “Come back when you’re in a better mood.”
I open my mouth to wish him good night when a petite blonde shoves up against my chest.
“Hey, Monty. How are you doing? It’s been a while.” Her hand lands on my arm, and she trails her fingers up it in a familiar way. Mentally, I’m shaking my head. This little girl is the daughter of one of Ev’s business partners. Doing the calculation, I realize if I got started just early enough, this girl could be my daughter.
“It sure has, Amy. Be sure to tell your dad hi when you get home. Okay?” I pull away and head to the front door. After I make it out into the spring night air, I realize I could have easily had a drink tonight in the pasture with the horses and been more content than I was on the scouting grounds of Bar Louie.
I need a new hangout. Either that or maybe I’ll toss a few back with Ev while talking in his study or something. One thing I know is I’m getting too old for this shit. Sliding behind the wheel of my Jag, I sit for a few minutes before I let out my frustration punching the steering wheel as hard as I can.
What am I—what arewe—going to do if we lose Ev?
Sixteen
Evangeline
It’s late when the car takes me back to my place after dinner with Sepi. I didn’t expect to enjoy myself as much as I did, but my agent is just so kind, the night out did me good.
Now every block the town car travels, I feel tension creeping back in my shoulders. Maybe I should take a vacation and get away for a while, I think absentmindedly. Not forever—my life is here. My family is here; my job is here. But maybe for a little while.
The car comes to a stop. Peering out the back window, I see we’re at my building. I quickly give the driver a hefty tip using my phone. “Thank you,” I murmur before I open the door and slide my legs out.
Striding to the entrance of the building, I start to call out a greeting to Lou, the evening doorman, when he interrupts. “Miss Linnie, Ms. Bristol is waiting for you upstairs.”
“What?” Why didn’t she call me? I just paid for the car on my phone, and there weren’t any missed messages. “Did she appear to be okay?” I’m racing toward my private elevator.
“Yes, but she appeared to be agitated,” he calls out just as the doors open. I use the key card to buzz to my floor before I type in the code.
“Thanks, Lou.” The doors close smoothly between us cutting off his reply. As the elevator ascends, the burden that left me at dinner completely erases. My heart is somewhere in the vicinity of my throat, and all the club soda I drank is churning in my stomach. I burst out of the elevator. My sandals make a little clicking sound on the glossy tile outside my entranceway. Knowing the door won’t be locked if Bristol’s inside, I fling it open.
“She just got here. I’ll call you in a few, honey.” Bristol hangs up her phone. She comes directly toward me with her hands outstretched, and I race into her arms.
“What is it? Is it Simon? The baby? Tell me,” I demand before she can get a word out.
“I think you need to sit down for this,” she tells me quietly, guiding me to the large sectional that dominates my family room.
“Bris, you’re scaring the living crap out of me,” I tell her shakily.
“I couldn’t sleep. I don’t know why. I decided to get up for a while, figuring I’d catch up on work.”
“Okay,” I reply, confused.
“And that’s when I got the notification. Swear to God, Linnie, it came in less than thirty minutes ago. If it had been longer, I’d have called you…”
