Loving My Best Friend's Dad(5)

Maybe I’ll find her later tonight... I think. I might be a father, but I’m no prude. A man has his needs, and after the divorce, I find myself hesitant to get involved too deeply in any sort of relationship. My constant travel was a sore spot, one that festered between Renee’s mother and I until there was no recovering from it. I doubt many women would feel differently. I tried a few more times, but I know when to quit. Maybe there’s a woman out there who could handle her lover leaving the country half the time, but I haven’t found her. I find it easier instead to bed a beautiful woman only when it’s clear that there are no strings, no commitments attached. Flight attendants are great for this, though even then it can get sticky when it lasts too long.

Atlantica is special as it’s a rooftop bar, complete with pools and cabanas. It has magnificent views of the city on three sides, and includes an outdoor patio. I prefer to visit during the daytime, but I know that it’s incredibly popular at night. We push through crowds to get to the top, and I can hear the music practically rattling my bones as we ascend to the top. The spacious elevator opens, and we’re inundated with heavy bass, flashing colored lights, and a wall of heat coming off of at least a hundred dancing bodies.

I lead the way, pushing through until we hit the VIP area. Sleek white lounge sofas are arranged in a U shape pattern, and there’s a complimentary bottle waiting on the coffee table already.

“Sweet dude!” one of Mike’s friends say, high-fiving him. “This is bomb!”

I don’t know if they’ve never drank before or what, but they get blitzed in no time, and a few pretty, plastic looking girls (the identical nose jobs give them away) show up to party. They’re attracted to the money, but Mike and his friends don’t seem to realize it. At least they’ll have a good night to remember. One of them eyes me, but I make it clear that I’m not interested. She’s thin as a twig, her dress hanging off of her almost two sizes too big, and her head’s like a lollipop. Not my type. I’m relieved when they decide to head to the patio to smoke, or at least, the girls do. Mike and his friends are more than happy to follow. My job here is done, and I’m ready to head home. The women here are too young for me, and if I hurry, I could maybe fit in a conference call with Liu Fung in Shanghai. There were a number of loose ends I would have preferred to wrap up before I left, but I had to come back in time to meet Renee.

I’m threading my way through the crowd when I catch a flash of gold. The woman from earlier. Almost before I know it, I’m changing course, heading towards the bar where she’s going. She’s stopped by a guy, which I’m not surprised about. The woman is gorgeous, a beacon in the dark with her gold dress. She shrugs off the guy and continues onward. Multiple guys show up, but each gets turned away. I wonder what she’s doing here if she’s not looking to hook up. It intrigues me. Most of the time I’m used to a gorgeous, curvy woman like that working a guy, making them buy her drinks, curling them around her fingers. But she seems nervous instead, as if she’s lost as to what to do.

But then things changed.

She’s waiting for a chance to get her drinks at the back of the bar. I guess she didn’t know that she has to force her way through like anyone else, because the crowd’s never going to thin out. Another interesting thing. A guy comes up to her, neck like a bulldog, and a grim face to match. A real thug of a guy. He invades her personal space immediately, and I can tell she’s uncomfortable by how many steps back she takes, trying to assert control over the situation. Not that he seems to care. He keeps talking, chatting her up, but now she’s really shaking her head, looking around for help. I can tell she’s bothered, her arms crossed protectively around her.

That’s when I decide that enough is enough. I’m not going to sit back here while some guy forces himself on a woman, especially when she’s signally clearly she has no interest. I step forward between then, physically creating a barrier.

“Finally found you,” I say. “Let’s head back.”

“Hey? Who the fuck do yo-”

I whirl around, ready to lay into the guy, and he shrinks like a pansy. Just like I thought. He’s the kind of douche who thinks he can bully a woman into doing what he wants because he’s bigger than her. Now that he’s dealing with someone his size, he’s tucking his tail between his legs and scurrying away.

“Thanks for doing that,” she says, her voice so soft it’s barely audible over the thumping music. “I just, I don’t know why they keep coming.”