No idea if she’s a friend or a foe, but I’ll take my chances. The Dating Pool gets me that much closer to my media goals.
The kind of close I want from Bellamy is close to my cock. But cock goals must take a backseat for now because I also want to reach her fans—a huge group of romance enthusiasts are my precise target. All those ladies talking up my parties? Yes, yes, and more yes.
Inside the club, I pass a table selling merch for the band and greet the tattooed pair of goth gals hawking T-shirts. I make my way to the bar in the corner and order a LaCroix. Not every night calls for liquor.
The bartender hands me the glass, and I thank him then scan the cramped quarters of this venue, my mind returning to the woman.
What does Bellamy Hart do on a Sunday night in September? See her friends? Curl up in a claw-foot tub, pink-polished toenails poking out of the bubbles as she soaks in the self-care with wine and bath bombs that explode between her thighs?
And that’s not helping my focus on business.
The naughty images linger, draping themselves all over the gray matter until my friends filter in. TJ and Nolan are joining me tonight. Nolan lives in San Francisco, but he’s been spending time in New York, working on some opportunities for his food show before he returns to the West Coast. TJ is the music-obsessed one, so he picked this joint.
I start directly in with my long-time friend. “I need to know something, T—”
TJ’s hand pops up like a traffic cop, his voice like a knife. “Do not.”
Nolan smiles wickedly, shaking his head. “Dude. You know better than to say his real name.”
“When a man gets skunk-faced drunk and spills his real name along with all his sad stories about his ex, you keep that ammunition handy,” I point out.
TJ jumps in. “Hey, Easton, did you want me to keep sending all my single lady friends to your parties or not? Because they flock to me. I’ve got loads of them looking for love. Not sure I need to share any more with you, though.”
“Fine, fine. TJ,” I say, dragging out his initials. I know he hates his full name; I was just fucking with him. That’s my job as his friend—to keep him on his toes. “But along those lines, riddle me something. Was this all some elaborate ruse from you?”
TJ scans the venue, dragging a hand along his bearded jaw. “Suggesting we all go to see a hip new band on Sunday night? Yes. I am guilty as charged, Easton.”
“No. I meant your friend Hazel’s companion last night. Did you set me up?”
Nolan’s hazel eyes twinkle. “Oh, sweet. Say yes, TJ. Say yes. I’ll grab my popcorn.”
“Do you even know what he’s saying yes to?” I counter.
“Nope,” Nolan says, rubbing his palms. “But if you’re wound up, it’s got to be good. And very little amuses me more than Mister Calm, Cool, and Collected getting knocked out of whack.”
“Thanks, Nolan. Appreciate that.” I turn my focus back to TJ. “So, Hazel’s friend. The one she brought with her last night to my fête. Was that your doing? Some little chess game machination of a creative mind? A new way to crack your writer’s block? By moving the chess pieces around my board?”
TJ furrows his brow, blinks several times. “You’re going to need to back this up, man. Yes, I am an evil genius, but I doubt your love life fascinates anyone enough to play chess with it. Still, I’ll bite. How does Hazel’s appearance relate to my writer’s block? Also, thanks for mentioning how much I suck at my job.”
“You’ll find inspiration soon enough. I have faith. Besides, if all else fails, just write about me.”
TJ spreads his arms out wide. “Yes! Thank you. I shall henceforth make you the hero in my next sexy romance novel. I’ll call it . . . Come Again.”
“Ah, that is indeed what all the ladies do when they’re with me,” I say, because it’s all too easy.
“I meant it more in a what-the-fuck way. Come again? My readers like their heroes with a little more finesse,” he jokes, then turns serious once more. “Anyway, what is this j’accuse all about?”
“Hazel brought along Bellamy Hart last night. What do you know about her?”
With a no-big-deal shrug, TJ scrubs a hand along the back of his neck. “Probably the same as you—whatever Google has to say. Hazel just asked to bring a friend.”
Nolan claps my shoulder. “Somebody’s got Easton’s panties in a twist.”
I heave a sigh. He’s not wrong. “She’s the one from Spencer’s bar,” I tell him.
“Ohh,” Nolan says.
“Elaborate,” TJ demands.
Nolan is all too happy to do that. “Two weeks ago, this dickhead dictated a work note at Spencer’s bar.”
“So, you gave him a dare,” TJ supplies.
“We bet he couldn’t snag a beautiful woman in a flapper dress,” Nolan puts in. “Long story short, she won the costume contest with him. He kissed her like a sailor kissing his girl before he ships out to sea, then she left without giving him her number. Basically, it was a beautiful night of comeuppance. Maybe that’s what you should call your next book,” Nolan says, finishing the not-a-love story.
TJ’s grin turns far too pleased. “I want to meet this woman. Buy her a drink.”
“Get in line behind my sister,” I say. “Anyway, that’s Bellamy. She’s complicated. Vexing. Smart as a whip. Sexy as a song.”
TJ smiles. “And you can’t figure out if she’s hot for you or hates you?”
“Or maybe both,” I say. “So, I figured I’d see if you knew anything more about her before I say yes to her request to be on her podcast.”
TJ shakes his head. “Nope. All I know is Hazel wanted into your events, since she’s in the mood for love. And she wanted to bring a plus one. Other than that, you’re on your own,” he says, his gaze straying briefly to the bartender, a hipster guy with tattoos.
The man smiles at TJ, and I’ve got a feeling my friend won’t be going home alone tonight. TJ tips his chin back in some sort of unspoken hello, then returns his attention to us.
“Want to take care of that right now?” I ask.
TJ rolls his eyes. “Nah. I’m out with the guys. I’ll deal with that later. For now, I want to hear why Hazel’s friend is making you crazy. Why do you care? You’ve made it abundantly clear you’re not in the market for romance.”
He’s right. So why has Bellamy claimed a patch of real estate in my head?
All I’m interested in is a good time. That’s all I’ve been interested in since Anna. There’s no room in my life for anything more. Running these parties solo takes up all my time.
Maybe I’m just caught up in Bellamy because of her podcast proposal.
“She wants to do a profile on my parties. I’m going to meet her tomorrow,” I tell them as we make our way toward the stage.
TJ nods like all that adds up. “That’s your thing, so it ought to be a no-brainer. Well, that and somehow proving you have the bigger dick than Coupled, Tinder, Match, and so on.”
I roll my eyes. “That’s not all it is.”
He scoffs, claps my back. “Right.”
“Sure. It’s totally not,” Nolan agrees.