A Week in New York(23)

“So you’re not seeing him tonight?” Leah interrupted my thoughts that for just the twenty seconds before hadn’t been full of Ethan.

“I’m not sure. We were and he invited me to the Hamptons, and then it got weird, and now I’m not sure.”

“Wait, he invited you to the Hamptons?”

“Oh, yes. Sorry. I was going to speak to you to see if you would mind if I went. I guess it doesn’t matter now.”

“Of course I don’t mind. You should go. I’m sure it’s fine. He didn’t uninvite you, did he?”

I shook my head. No, not yet. That would come later … I was sure of it.





Ethan

I’d officially grown a vagina.

Make that two vaginas. I was becoming a vagina farmer. What the fuck was the matter with me? It stung when she said that women didn’t want to sleep with me more than once. I mean, I knew it wasn’t true, but the fact that she might think that. A vagina farmer. Fuck.

She was the greatest lay I’d ever had and I had to wear her down to spend the weekend with me. That stung, too. That was it. I needed to kick some ass and take some names. I wanted to get this work done so I could fuck her out of my system. Just after I had another look at that sexy-as-hell text she’d sent me of her in her underwear.

I worked like a maniac all day. I was sure that my associate was on the verge of quitting two or three times. I could see the panic in his eyes as I piled more and more work onto him, but I was too busy to think about it. He said that he wanted more responsibility, so he shouldn’t fucking whine when I gave it to him. I was going to have to look over various documents over the weekend, but I was going to be able to get out of the office. My biggest client was on vacation, which couldn’t have come at a better time. I looked at my watch. Jesus. How was it 6 p.m. already? Would she be at the hotel by now or was she spending the evening with Armitage’s girlfriend? Had she said? I checked my cell for messages but there was nothing.

Me: Hey sexy. What are you wearing?

Nothing. For thirty minutes.

Anna: Hey.

Hey?

Me: Are you at the hotel?

Anna: No.

Me: When will you be there? Make sure you bring your case so we can get straight off in the morning.

Anna: Later. Okay.

Me: Let me know when you’re at the hotel. I should be back by midnight.

Three hours later and I’d just come off the least useful conference call in my career. At least it hadn’t generated more work. The ball was in the court of the Chinese. We had the weekend off.

Back at my desk, I checked my phone.

Anna: At the hotel bar.

The text was sent over an hour ago. The hotel bar, for Christ’s sake? It was close to 9:30. No doubt a million sleazy guys had hit on her.

Me: On your own?

Anna: You haven’t died then.

Me: On your own?

Anna: I’m making new friends.

New friends? New friends with dicks? My fists clenched. Jesus. I was going to end up in prison by the end of the weekend if I wasn’t careful. I put some papers together quickly and left the office earlier than I should have.

***

I saw her as soon as I entered the bar. She was sitting at the bar, her head tipped back, and she was laughing at something the bartender had said to her. He looked like he’d just hit a home run. I knew how that felt—it lit me up when I made her laugh. I didn’t like that he got to feel that, too. I’d never felt jealousy over a woman before now.

I came up behind her and rubbed her back. She was mid-laugh and she jumped when I touched her. I hated that.

“Hey!” she said a little too loudly and both her hands flew into the air. “He’s here,” she said to the bartender.

The bartender nodded at Anna and turned to me. “Can I get you a drink, sir?”

Anna interrupted my response “You’re here! I’d thought you were gone and now you’re here! My New York lover.”

“I think she’s had enough for both of us,” I said.

“No! Have a drink. I have lots of new friends to show you. Which one do I like best?” She looked imploringly at the bartender.

“You like them all, ma’am.”

“I do. I like all these cocktails. They are my friends. My New York friends.” She pointed at a list of at least twenty drinks.

“Tell me you’ve not served her all these?”

He shook his head. “Just the first five or so. She was working her way down the list.”

“Come on, beautiful. Let’s get you to bed.”

I signed the tab and helped her off the stool.

“My case, my case, my case,” she said as she spun around and went to grab a small silver suitcase, which I took for her. I put my free arm around her waist and guided her back to the elevator bank.