Imperfect Truth(54)
“I kicked Alexandre out,” I declare into the phone.
“Way to jump right in. Wow, okay, we need ice cream—”
“No, we need vodka, maybe tequila, and we need it five minutes ago.”
“Okay, hmmm, meet me at the bar down the block from my place. On the corner, next to the French brasserie.”
“Okay, see you in what, thirty?”
“No I’m still dressed from Babbo, I can be there in fifteen.”
I walk the block to the bar and find Jules already ordering us a round of shots, Patron Silver chilled. I smile at her, but my smile doesn’t touch my eyes or match my tone.
“I don’t want to think anymore. I just want to be told what to do. What should I do?”
“Honestly? I think you need time. Time alone.” I nod and then turn to the shot glasses sitting in front of us.
“Bottoms up.” We both take the shot, the cold liquid leaving a chill in my throat as it rushes down.
“Another round,” Jules says to the bartender standing in front of us.
The next shot is sitting in front of us within minutes. This one goes down even smoother. This time I speak. “Keep them coming.” I laugh. By the fourth shot, I’m feeling good. My inhibitions are down, and I reach for my phone. I send the text.
Me: I’m yours…
My phone rings instantly, I answer, but before I can speak, I hear his voice.
“Ava,” his words come out husky, “Come meet me. I’ll text you the address.” I say nothing through the whole exchange. He doesn't give me time to object; he knows I won’t. Jules, who is talking to the bartender, has finally noticed that I’m on the phone. She looks at me with disapproval.
“Damn it, Ava, what are you doing, please tell me you didn’t just text Ryder again under the table. Please for the love of God, tell me that wasn’t him?” I bite my lip thinking of what to answer as I stand.
“Oh my God. Please, please for the love of God. Please don’t tell me you are going to him now?” She studies me as she continues to speak.
“Oh my God you are. He fucks with you. He fucks with your emotions, all the time! You know it, I know it, and worse, he knows it.”
“I’ve got no choice. I have to go,” I declare.
“We always have choices, Ava,” She looks so sad, so disappointed in me.
“I love you, Jules,” I say as I kiss her cheek, “this is just something I need to do.”
“I know.” I look away, and sigh…I know I’m an idiot, but I just don’t care.
The cab ride is short, thank God. I’m losing liquid courage and at a remarkable speed. As we pull up, I hand the driver a ten dollar bill and jump out on the corner in front of the quintessential Irish Pub, green awning and all. Hell, there is even a shamrock on it.
I walk in and scan the bar, and I catch him in my sights. Ryder is standing against the wall in the corner. His breathtaking gaze falls upon me. Ryder is beautiful. He is brilliant, and I can’t believe he wants me. When he looks into my eyes, I have no choice but to sigh.
My scope of vision widens, and I notice he’s leaning towards a girl, talking to her. She is drop dead gorgeous. As if she walked out of a lingerie catalog. My heels click across the sticky floor. Ryder’s eyes stay with me as I make my way to him. God is he gorgeous, his coppery brown hair is extra disheveled today, and it appears he hasn't shaved in a few days. His sapphire eyes sparkle as he smiles at me. He leans in and gives me a soft kiss on the lips. I look over to his friend, to imply not so subtly that I want an introduction.
“Ava, this is Danielle. Danielle is my PA.” He turns to the blond bombshell.
“Aww, yes Ava. I’ve heard so much about you.” She laughs, and I’m instantly uncomfortable. There is a wicked gleam in her eye.
“Danielle, I will call you later.” Ryder dismisses Danielle and leads me by my arm to the exit of the pub.
“Where to?” he inquires as his face splits into a naughty grin.
Did I really just take a cab here to be leaving so soon? Ryder wraps his arm around my waist and starts trailing circles around my hip as he opens the door for me. I’m completely and utterly lost in his touch.
“Can we go back to your place?” I ask him.
“Nah, not tonight, baby. Let’s just go back to yours.”
WE LEAVE THE bar and silently walk the twelve blocks to my apartment. He is leading me by at least two steps, and surprisingly, my shoes don’t hurt. It must be all the alcohol and nerves racing through me. We finally make it, and we walk right past the doorman. I don’t stop to say hi. It feels wrong bringing someone else here.
We take the elevator up to my floor and walk in…I feel Alexandre everywhere.