Page 30 of Damaged Enemy Next Door

“I thought you weren’t drunk,” I say.

“No, no,” she says, coming closer. I can smell the alcohol on her. “I was just at the bar. I wasn’t drinking. So anywhooo, I called your secretary earlier, and she told me where you live. I dropped by. Would you mind helping me get back to New York Darling?”

“So that’s why you’re here?” I ask in disappointment. With Veronica, what else was there except disappointment? “For money?”

She doesn’t say anything. She just looks away. “How much do you need?” I ask.

She replies.

“No way,” I say. I pull out my wallet and a few hundred dollar notes I keep as emergency cash. “That’ll be enough to get you back to New York. Now get the fuck out of my house, or I’ll call the cops.”

She tries to protest, but I close the door on her face.

CHAPTER 15

OLIVIA

Itrulythoughtthatthis night out with the girls was exactly what I needed. Club José is absolutely banging, as it always is. The first hour, the girls and I danced like there was no tomorrow. The next? Drank like it was no tomorrow.

But still, it wasn't the same as it usually was.

It didn't take long for me to realize what it was. I thought I was out here with the girls having a genuinely good time - until the boys started hitting on us. They were offering us drinks, calling us beautiful, and telling us that we looked like trouble. And before I knew it, every group of boys kept coming up to our corner, asking if they could buy us drinks.

I want to be clear, there's nothing wrong with accepting a free drink from someone you just met in a club. But something felt off about this situation.

And then I saw them, a young couple dancing on the dancefloor. It looked like they had known each other for years, and were totally in sync with each other's moves. She was spinning him around, and he dipped her down in a low sweep. The way they moved together - it almost felt like I was watching a real-life movie scene.

My eyes followed them on the floor as I absentmindedly thought of sweet nothings - and then, suddenly, Adrian came to mind.

Fuck.

Was I not having a good time because I was missing Adrian?

I'm clearly very drunk. The world is spinning around me, and I don't know what I'm thinking when I pull out my phone to get Adrian on the phone. I call him, but he doesn't pick up.

"What R U Doing?" I drunk text.

"Putting Emily to bed," he responds. "Have fun?"

"Sarah," I say, pulling at her. She turns around with a questioning look. "What's up?" she asks, her voice muffled by the pounding music.

"I don't think I should have come here tonight," I say, suddenly feeling the urge to confide in someone.

"What do you mean? We're having a blast!" Sarah exclaims, taking a gulp of her drink.

"It's just that ... I don't know. I miss Adrian. And these guys hitting on us, it's making me feel uncomfortable," I explain, my words coming out slurred.

Sarah gives me a sympathetic look. "I understand, girl. Maybe we should call it a night?"

I nod, relieved that someone else feels the same way. We both put on our jackets and stumble out of the club, the cold air hitting our faces. I fumble for my phone, determined to get through to Adrian.

"Hey, we're leaving the club now. Will you be up when I reach home?" I text him.

"I'm getting ready for bed," he replies. "But I can be up. All okay? Do you need a ride?"

"Aw, he's so sweet," I tell Sarah, showing her the message.

"Oliviaaaaa," she mumbles, as she hails down a cab and we get in it. "Stop bothering him. Adrian is a matuuureee man. He needs his rest. Work, and stuff, you know ..."

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