“Murano,” Wright called from behind him.
Turning back around, Rafe nodded, lack of sleep and the residual effect of the whiskey finally catching up to him.
“Thanks.”
• • •
“Look at these,” Jade squealed, picking up a pair of pink strappy Valentino Garavani sling-back pumps.
“Try them on,” Fallon answered as she browsed through the handbags. This was Jade’s favorite boutique in Cherry Creek and Fallon had hoped it would cheer her up a little. She hadn’t been acting herself since the club last night, and Fallon had a sneaking suspicion that Dexter was the root of her bad mood. But Fallon wasn’t one to pry. She was the queen of privacy, and if anyone understood the need to bury the bad and move on, it was Fallon.
“I think I’m going to get them,” she said, her voice a little leery.
“So get them.”
Jade smoothed her fingers over the pointed toe as if giving it a parting caress before saying her good-byes. “They’re eight hundred and sixty dollars,” she whined, looking longingly at the shoes before setting them back down on the table.
Fallon reached in front of Jade and picked them up, handing them back to her. “Okay, and I sign your paychecks. I’m pretty sure you can afford them.”
Leveling her eyes at Fallon, she put the pumps back down. “That’s not the point. Just because I can afford them doesn’t mean they’re not out of my league.” Her face twisted with frustration; then she spun around and dashed toward the entrance.
Rushing after her, Fallon waved good-bye to the woman behind the counter and stepped out onto the sidewalk, squinting from the afternoon sun. “All right, I wasn’t going to say anything, but you’re as much of a shoe whore as I am, so now I’m starting to worry.”
Whipping around, Jade snapped, her eyes pooling heavy with tears she was pleading wouldn’t fall. “I went to Dexter’s last night and things were off with us. Dammit, Fallon.” She choked, pressing her finger beneath her eyes to catch the tears that escaped. “I didn’t want to talk about it because I knew I’d get emotional.”
“Okay, fair enough. How about some food?”
Pulling her purse into the crook of her arm, Jade inhaled a refining breath and aligned her shoulders. Composure sifted through the mangled emotions she wanted to suppress. She was so much like Fallon sometimes, it was scary. Showing emotion and letting your weaknesses seep to the surface was just terrifying—for both of them. It was one of the reasons Fallon got along with her so well. She didn’t need to worry about having margarita Mondays or weekend spa trips where women divulged their deepest, darkest secrets to each other. That wasn’t their thing. Thank god.
Naomi, on the other hand, would, and had attempted to drag them to those “girl time” events on more than one occasion.
“Food. Yes, please,” Jade replied gratefully.
“Pizza? Chinese? Or there’s that new burger place that just opened in LoDo by the Wynkoop Brewery.” Fallon might have liked her designer shoes, but when it came to food, she was easy to please. She’d take a burger and fries any day.
She’d missed out on anything having a high calorie count growing up. Ballerinas were slender, willowy, and beautiful. Junk food was poison to the body, forbidden by her mother along with everything else she desperately wanted to try. Their cook, Ann, would make her children chocolate chip cookies and sneak Fallon some in her lunch when she was in elementary school. She loved when Ann packed her lunch. Until her mom found out, and Ann was fired. You didn’t defy her mother without consequences.
“Burgers and beer sounds perfect,” Jade said, sliding into Fallon’s car.
• • •
Forty minutes later, they were both stuffed. Sitting outside at one of the sidewalk tables, Jade was about to finish off her beer when her phone vibrated against the glass table. She picked it up, smiled, and then strained her neck, looking side to side.
“What are you doing?” Fallon asked, turning her head over her shoulder, following Jade’s roaming eyes.
“George is somewhere close—he just texted me that he liked my boobs in this shirt.” She laughed.
Leave it to George to be the creep lurking in the shadows sending scandalous text messages to women on the sidewalk. He was the perviest gay man she’d ever known.
“Hey,” Fallon heard from behind her, and she turned over her shoulder to see George in all his beauty standing behind her.
“Hey, stalker.” Jade smiled. “We’re just finishing, but sit with us a minute.”
George had been with Fallon for the last two years. When she’d taken over the club, she’d made a few changes. One being the asshole bouncer who thought one of his job benefits was sleeping with her girls. Wrong. Gay men with no aspiration to screw her half-naked employees seemed the safest way to go. Even if he was verbally slutty.