I can hear the desperation in her voice. I almost tell her about Angelo. But then, what does that even mean? Hey, Zora, I can’t go on this double date we arranged weeks ago because this guy who’s not my boyfriend, but, well, we had phone sex last night and … I shake my head. Even to myself, it sounds weak.
“I’ll come for moral support,” I tell her. “But that’s all.”
“Yay!” she cries. “Thank you, Dani. I owe you!”
I can’t help but smile to hear cynical, scathing Zora sound so girlish and carefree. “Yes,” I tell her. “You do—big time.”
I head through into the bedroom and think about touching Wyatt’s shoulder softly, letting him know I’m heading out. But he’s working like I haven’t seen in years, biting the end of his pencil as he stares down at the math problem with his headphones on and cranked loud.
I leave a note instead, and then quickly get ready. I don’t do anything fancy. I don’t want to give Zora’s friend’s friend any ideas.
Zora texts me the address of the club as I’m applying some light makeup. I laugh like a crazy woman when I read it.
Sole Nero. Angelo’s club.
I call a ride and get in, wondering if Angelo is going to be there. If he is, what is he going to make of seeing me with another man? I’m shocked by how much this worries me. Obviously, Angelo and I aren’t even close to—well, close to anything. But the idea of him walking in makes me shiver.
Zora and the men are already waiting for me at the back of the line when the Uber drops me off. Zora came straight from work, but even so, she looks drop-dead bombshell stunning. Fishnets, choker collar, and the fuck-you-very-much attitude to make the edgy look work. Her sort-of boyfriend is a skinny guy who’s always wearing a beanie and a grandpa sweater with the sleeves rolled up. They look cute together.
My date is named Chuck and he’s tall and has the air of a banker bro about him. He’s got a gold watch and glinting cufflinks and—well, I guess Angelo has those things, too. But Angelo wears them better. This man looks at me like I should be impressed that he has them.
“So you’re a social worker?” he says in the line. Zora and her boyfriend have already retreated into smitten little whispers.
“I’m an EMT,” I tell him politely.
“Oh,” he says, sounding inexplicably offended. “I thought Ben said you were a social worker. No, that’s the other one—the lesbian.”
I grind my teeth. Be nice. “No, Quinny’s in construction.”
“Seriously?” he laughs.
“They let women do that, you know,” I comment, a little too icily.
Zora gives me a look, warning me not to ruin this for her. We shuffle up the line so slowly it hurts. I can’t help but think about the first time I came here, how I was just whisked to the front. The club is clearly packed, as usual.
“I’m a lawyer,” Chuck says before I even ask. “Corporate stuff, mostly.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, the hours can be long but the pay is sweet. I just put a down payment on a yacht. It’s got a hot tub and everything. You wanna see a photo, sweetheart?”
Sweetheart. If it wasn’t for Zora basically screaming with her eyes, I don’t know what I’d do. “Sure,” I grit through clenched teeth.
Finally, mercifully, we make it into the club. I head straight for the bar. Chuck is close on my heels, shouting in my ear about getting shots. I shout back that I’m just going to get a beer and he pulls a face like I’ve just kicked a puppy.
The line for the bar is not really a line. It’s more of a mosh pit. We all stand close together, packed tight, which is maybe why Chuck thinks he can get away with sliding his hand up my leg.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I snap, grabbing his wrist. Hard.
He opens his mouth mutely. “I … sorry, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to cause offense. That really hurts. Jesus, you’re strong.”
“Offense?” I say, tossing his hand away and stepping back. “There’s a thin line between—”
I trail off.
There he is.
I see Angelo walking across the bar, his face tight, his dark eyes flitting from between me and Chuck. Chuck turns to follow my gaze and shrugs, laughing. “Who’s this wannabe?” he grunts, jutting his chin in Angelo’s direction, apparently forgetting that he just tried to grope me. He seems surprised when he stops right beside us and stares pure death at Chuck. I’d be lying if I didn’t find the way Chuck’s face just drained of color sort of funny. He tries to stand up straighter, but he looks tiny opposite Angelo. “Is there a problem here?”
“I don’t know,” Angelo says. “Is there?”
“Look, man, we’re just—”
“No,” Angelo says. “You are not just anything. I suggest you go and find somebody else to party with. Ah, look, it seems you have found some admirers.” He grins, nodding at two members of the bar staff who are suddenly giving Chuck the eye and who weren’t even there before: women in tight dresses, waving daintily at Chuck. “Your drinks for the rest of the evening are on me—if you leave right now without saying a fucking word.”
Chuck looks at Angelo, looks at me, and then shrugs and just walks away. “Nobody said you could do that,” I tell Angelo once the lawyer asshole is gone.
“Do what?”
I roll my eyes at him. “Don’t bullshit me, playboy. You know exactly what you did. Riding in like a knight in shitty armor.”
“Shitty armor?” He’s laughing. “I think you meant shining.”
“No, I said what I meant.”
I am annoyed at him, and I want him to know that. And yet when he nods toward the door that I know leads to his private area, our self-contained universe I’ve dreamed about for weeks, I find myself agreeing. “But,” I emphasize, slapping him on the arm. “Don’t think this means you’re the big hero, got it? And, for the record, if that guy wasn’t completely insufferable, I might still be with him right now.”
He pauses. His eyes get darker. A tension moves through his body. “Do you mean that?”
I’m stunned by how much my joke has clearly affected him. Like he wants to claim me. Like he doesn’t want any other man to touch me. Ever.
“No,” I say, trying to laugh it off. “Since when did you get so serious, huh?”
“Fate keeps bringing us together, Dani,” he says. “Only an idiot doesn’t take fate seriously.” He winks, joking, and then holds the door open for me. But at the last second he rushes through it first. “Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot. I’m not your knight in shitty armor, am I? After me, then.”
I hurry after him. “You’re a fucking jerk, Angelo!” I say. “Has anybody ever told you that before? What are we even doing up here?”
I power-walk ahead of him and then walk around the bar and drum my fingers along it. “So, what can I get for you?”
“Service with a smile,” he says easily, sliding onto the barstool. “Do me a favor, Dani. Get me that beer from the bottom shelf of the fridge. And stick your ass out as far as you can. I want to see those jeans go tight over your spankable curves. I want to think about tearing them apart with my teeth to make a hole for my cock, and fucking you as you reach for the beer, and glass smashing everywhere, but we don’t care because I’m buried to my balls in your tight, aching pussy.”