Page 4 of Red Queen
“Don’t tempt me, Mateo.”
Oh, but I do.
I don’t usually ask for another round from women I bring home, but she was something else. Just one more minute of feeling her mouth around my cock, and it would solve my headache. Okay, it wouldn’t, but it would solve my damn boner. I’m about to answer when I hear my phone ringing. I pick it up with a sigh.
“You’re late.” I recognize my manager’s voice through the phone. Yes, I’m super late. I see the woman wave to me and go out my front door.The woman? Jeez, I don’t even remember her name.
“I know, Enzo,” I groan, and he lets out an annoyed chuckle. Uh-oh. I’m in trouble.
“Who was the lucky woman this time?” It’s a rhetorical question, I know, but I love to brag about my skills with women.
“A super hot chick, mate. You should’ve seen those curves. Like a porn star, I’m telling you,” I say, but he doesn’t appreciate my attempt to lighten his mood.
“Look, I know you won yesterday and congrats, really, but you can’t throw your entire schedule out the window because of that. You have a race in a week. Oh, and did you make her sign the papers?”
Shit! The papers. I was too busy looking at her ass.
“No, man… I forgot them. But don’t worry, alright? She’s good.”
He scoffs.
“Of course she’s good, Mateo. Until two days later, when you see her pulling you down to the darkest corners of the media. What’s her name?”
“I don’t know, okay? I don’t remember. Now leave me alone, I have to go back to sleep.”
“You’re unbelievable! Mateo?—”
I hang up before he could curse me to the ends of hell.
I messed up. Big time. I know I have to find her, but not right now. I should be at the gym, working out. Instead, here I am sitting in my kitchen at home, feeling like I could throw up at any moment. When is this coffee gonna work its magic?
Until I wait for the coffee to kick in and put some will to live inside me, I shoot Aiden a text asking if he’s still alive and if he remembers the woman’s name. All my hopes are in his answer, but if not, I’ll have to call my PR agent, which, believe me, is the last thing I want to do. She hates me enough already; our “friendship” doesn’t need another scandal.
Although Vickie’s one of the best in her job—which I like to remind her of as many times as I can—she shouldn’t have to deal with me. I know she never backs down from a challenge, but maybe I’m starting to become too much. I don’t want her to go crazy because of me before her thirties.
I hear a ping, and I see my teammate’s name—Aiden—on the phone. He replied with a voice message.
“No, I’m most definitely dying, or I might have died already. You’re crazy. Next time, I ain’t letting you get me so many tequilas. I’m American, for god’s sake. Not everyone is built like you. But no, I don’t really remember much. I think it was something like Maya? Or Mi… Me… Mo… Oh, Mona! It wasdefinitely Mona. Or at least that’s what she said. Anyway, hope you’re doing better than me. See you soon. Or never.”
Wow. Well, that was a very detailed and interesting voice message. I write him back a super thankful message for helping me out and forward the news to my manager. What are friends for, if not for helping you find the woman you slept with? Hopefully, he finds Mona and everything works out.
Unfortunately, despite Aiden's wishes, I’m not doing any better than him. Maybe it’s time for a power nap. I drag myself back to bed and plop down on it.Oh, how much I missed you. Fortunately, it doesn’t take long for me to fall asleep.
4
MATEO
Iwake up to an infuriatingly loud noise coming from my phone. I groan and answer it without looking at the screen.
“I found her.” My manager’s voice welcomes me from the other end of the line. Despite the good news, he doesn’t sound pleased.
“That’s…good, right?”
“Bad. Awful. Terrible. One day, I’m gonna kill you myself.” Is it weird that I can actually see that happening?
“Spill it already. What happened?”
“She’s a goddamn journalist, Mateo. A journalist. Are you out of your mind? And you didn’t even make her sign the papers. Pray that she’ll sign them before she publishes anything.” Oh, for god’s sake. One time, I forgot. One time and she has to be a journalist. Seriously, God? You’re cruel. What did I do to deserve this?
