Overlooked(1)(62)

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” I take a sip and close my eyes to enjoy.

“Not from me.” She winks and walks away.

I immediately survey the bar. This week, none of my old conquests are lining the walls, and no one takes credit for it. When life gives you free whiskey, though, you fucking drink it.

“It could be poisoned.” Geoff offers after I drain the glass.

“Fuck off, Geoff. No one likes you.”

Five minutes later, Becky returns with another glass.

“Who is it?” I ask, taking the glass. “Show her to me.”

“Who says it’s a she?” Becky teases and leaves.

Paxton claps loudly. I mull this over, staring at the brown water that saves my life every weekend. Taking it up the ass is not my style, but I’d gladly share a bottle with the dude if he wants to keep sending it my way. I toss the drink back.

“I need to move to family law,” Paxton marvels. “Every one of you fuckers has liquor falling from the sky, wherever you go.”

“It’s a shit pit. You don’t want in it. You’ll end up jaded like the rest of us and resist relationships to fuck everything that moves. On second thought, maybe you should.”

A third drink is put into my hand. This time, Becky nods toward the end of the bar. I’d know that body anywhere. Kate McArthur. The beautiful brunette in a screaming red dress is spending a lot of time studying the beer list on the back wall.

There is a certain power to whiskey when it crosses my bloodstream. Instead of whiskey dick, I become invincible. Sex for hours, up all night, luck at the casino. Name it, it happens. Suddenly my plan to sleep the weekend away no longer looks appetizing.

“I thought you were going to—”

“Geoff, none of us like you. Go home.” I toss Paxton a two-fingered salute at my temple and skirt around the full bar tables to the vixen responsible for feeding me booze. “I understand you like good whiskey.”

Thick curls I can already envision wrapped around my wrist bounce as she turns around with a smirk.

“I knew you wanted me.” I drop into the seat next to Kate McArthur. Without David mouth-breathing next to me, it’s easier to check her out. She looks better than she did six years ago on that topless beach. “But this is pretty brazen.”

“I know you think this cocky asshole routine is cute, but it’s really not.” Kate tosses back with a flirty smile.

“I’m not the one buying you drinks.” I spin the half-empty glass on the bar and give her a hard look. “You can’t buy me off, no matter how good the whiskey is.”

“Who said I was looking to buy you off?” She checks her phone, bored. “You looked like you wanted to kill your friend over there and blood makes me nauseous. Your kind usually shuts up with a little booze.”

“I don’t think you know anything about my kind.”

“Try me.”

It’s a threat. It’s an opening. It’s a heavy suggestion. Her eyes are heavily lined and her lips are as red as her dress. Everything about her screams fuck me.

“If you fuck me, I’ll nail you for infidelity.”

“Ridiculous. Everyone knows we’re getting divorced. We’ve been separated for a year. It means nothing anymore.” Here, she sounds a little bitter. The mask shifts just a bit. Everyone in Hollywood has their tells. “Besides, everyone in town knows you like to sleep with your clients’ exes.”

“Who says I’m interested in you?” I stand and lean over her. She smells sweet, tinged with something dark. It’s my favorite smell. “Who says I’ll take your whiskey and then let you touch my dick?”

“I think you hate David as much as I do. Wouldn’t it be worth it, then? Fuck him over by sleeping with me?”

I don’t like where this is going. I grab her chair and spin her around to face me. I hook a finger under her chin and pull her up to look at me.

“What are you trying to pull? I’m smarter than you, Kate. Don’t cross me.”

“You don’t scare me.” She breathes.

“I should.”

She pulls something out of her tiny purse and sets it on the counter. She shoots the rest of her glass and stands so we’re almost humping already. I can feel every inch of her pressed against me and my pants run tight.

“I’m in room 1275.”

“I’m not going to sleep with you, Kate.”

“I never said anything about sleeping, Eric.”

I palm the key and stick it in my shirt pocket. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”





CHAPTER SEVEN

KATE



Making good decisions is one of those things I always grappled with: what, exactly, made something a “good” decision or a “bad” one? Everything is so subjective and someone’s moral tailspin doesn’t always jive with mine.