Well, really, they're not your hopes and dreams. They're your fathers. You've just gotten so used to them, you think of them as yours.
His birthday was in June. He'd be thirty-one. His father was sixty. Just five more years, and he'd retire. Ari was so close to his goal. So close. That's what he wanted, he didn't need Valentine confusing him. Making him lose sight of that, demanding he choose one or the other. Her or his dreams. She could've offered to be a part of them. Selfish. She was so selfish.
Yeah, so selfish, she only wanted the best for you and thought better of you than anyone you've ever known. That's all.
He didn't need her. He'd survived for a long time without her. Fuck her. He was done with her. She lived on the opposite side of town, hung out with a totally different crowd, lived a completely different kind of life. They'd never run into each other. Easy peezy. Ari Sharapov was officially done with Valentine O'Dell.
All of which he repeated to himself when he headed down to Caché on Thursday night.
I'm a member. A member for life, at one of the hottest places in the city. There's a lot of rooms in Caché, I probably won't even run into her.
He hadn't been down to the Club Room in a long time. Just walking into it filled him with a sense of deja vu. He scanned the floor quickly, and though it was packed, he could already tell Valentine wasn't in it. The girl ... shined when she danced. Like there was always a spotlight trained on her. It's how he'd found her so easily that first night, that first time.
She wasn't in the Moon Room, thank god, because there seemed to be an orgy going on in there. She wasn't in the Music Room, either. She wasn't in the rooms upstairs – one of which was hosting some sort of fight club. He stopped looking when he realized that he was actually actively looking for her. That's not why he was there, not at all. Before he could leave, though, the gorgeous, large and in charge, “Lady of the House” stepped into the hallway and rubbed a long feather across Ari's chest.
“Long time, no see, handsome,” Charice purred low in her throat, then she tickled the feather under his chin. He batted it away.
“Always a pleasure,” he grumbled. “Seen our little saint anywhere?”
“Maybe,” she sighed, stepping close and pressing herself against him. “What's that kind of information worth to you?”
“Sorry, sugar,” he chuckled. “After what I bid a couple weeks ago, I'm fresh out of payments for people.”
Charice stepped back and plunked her hands on her hips. It was funny; she was a tiny woman. Even in her kitten heels, she was maybe five-foot-three, at the most, almost a foot shorter than him. Yet her presence was so large, he almost – almost – felt intimidated by her.
“She left maybe half an hour ago. Saw her sneaking out with a date,” she explained. Ari resisted the urge to scowl.
“So she's gone for the night.”
“Yeah, I doubt she's coming back.”
“Of course,” he grunted. He felt like he wanted to vomit. Or kill someone. Instead of doing either, he straightened out his jacket and tie. “I guess I should've shown up a little earlier if I wanted to see someone who's such high demand.”
He went to turn away, but the ostrich feather brushed against his cheek, so he looked back.
“Or you could go find her right now.”
Well, well. Charice was full of surprises.
“You know where she is?”
“No. But I think I know who she's with ...”
Evans Daniels was somewhat nondescript when a person attempted to describe him – brown hair, brown eyes, average height. Yet Ari still knew exactly who Charice was describing. If his blood turned into straight up magma, setting his entire body on fire with rage.
It was late, and if Evans had bought a date, that meant they had go somewhere there was food. At least, that's how Ari had interpreted Val's weird rules about her dates – she only went to restaurants and/or Caché.
There were only so many places open after midnight that served decent food, even in a large city like Chicago, so that narrowed down the choices. As Ari pulled away from Caché, he ran through a list of places he knew off the top of his head. When he landed on the name Dots, he paused for so long at a red light, the car behind him honked.
Dots – a dark, funky little after-hours pub. He'd recommended it to Evans when the man had complained about having trouble finding good late night spots. It was also the kind of place Valentine would love, with its vintage décor and electic style.
Why didn't I ever bring her here?
It didn't matter. Why was he even thinking about? Valentine was no longer his concern – she'd made it painfully clear that they were over. That she wanted nothing to do with him. She was free to date whoever she wanted, do whatever she wanted. It didn't concern him. Didn't bother him.
Nope, doesn't bother me at all.
That was the thought running through Ari's head as Valentine quickly pulled her hand free from Evans'.
“This isn't what it looks like,” she spoke quickly, and he was surprised. Why defend herself to someone who didn't mean anything to her?
“Looks like two friends enjoying some late night food,” he replied. That took some of the wind out of her sails, and her mouth opened and closed a few times as she sought for a reply.
“Looks like it's about to be three,” Evans chimed in, and he scooted further into the circular booth. “Take a seat.”
“I think I will.”
But he didn't take the empty space next to Evans. He simply started to move in next to Valentine, leaving the pair of them with no choice but to quickly slide out of the way. When they were finally all situated, his knee was brushing against hers.
What am I doing? Why am I here? When did I become so pathetic? I just stalked her down. Sweet jesus, I'm Harper. Valentine was right – all us rich people are fucking weird.
“What brings you downtown tonight?” Evans asked good naturedly, smiling broadly at both of them. Valentine was staring at Ari like she couldn't decide if he was a mirage or not.
“Just looking for something to ... nibble on,” he replied, smirking at her. “I had to work late, so I decided to go out and look for trouble.”
“You found it. I haven't seen you in a while, Ari. What's new?” Evans asked, swirling his drink in his glass before taking a sip.
“Not a whole lot,” Ari replied casually. “Hired a new assistant a while back.”
“The man who hates to work with others has an assistant?” Evans laughed. “I'm almost impressed. Must be someone really special.”
“You could say that,” Ari said, still staring at Valentine. “Pity she quit without giving notice. We have unfinished business to work through.”
Valentine abruptly stood up, causing the table to rock and tip forward. Evans managed to grab ahold of it before it went over, and Ari saved their drinks from sloshing everywhere. Then he was quickly moving as Val tried to shove her way out of the booth.
“Thanks for the drinks and food,” she spoke quickly as she reached into the side of her cleavage and pulled out a small coin purse. Evans held up his hands.
“No, no, on me. I dragged you away from work, so my treat. You can get it next time we go out.”