“I don’t know,” I said, flinching at the thought of getting off the couch, much less moving toward a bar or club.
“You know I’ve never steered you wrong,” she said smiling. “And you’ll get to spend some of that hard-earned divorce money on booze and hot men, just what it was intended for.”
My eyes opened wide, and I smiled at the thought of spending his money on clubs and bars. “Fine,” I said, finally convinced. “But you have to let me get myself together.”
“Deal,” she said. “You go shower, and I’ll move this garbage around so it’s in neater stacks.”
I stuck my tongue out at Mona and headed back to the bathroom, letting my blanket fall from my shoulders halfway down the hallway. I stood in front of the mirror, waiting for the shower to heat up, staring at my reflection in the mirror. Mona looked like a human being while I looked more like something from a zombie movie. Mona was the voice of reason between the two of us and always had been. She had no problems sticking up for herself, and I always chalked it up to the fact that she was barely five feet tall. Her long brown hair cascaded down her back, and her cute little features magically turned seductive when you put some makeup in her hand. She was that friend who was loud and slightly embarrassing, but you couldn’t imagine a life without her in it.
As I let the hot water of the shower wash the last few days of wine and sleep away, I could feel my body begin to react. I did not want to go out to the bars, nor did I have any intention of picking up a man, but I guessed Mona was right, it was time I started acting like a human again, at least for a few hours. I knew I would have a good time, dancing, drinking, and laughing, but I also knew I had the ability to come home and hide out again if I really wanted to. Jordan had completely twisted my life upside down, and I needed to start taking back my control. He was no longer part of my life, and I didn’t need to let him affect me even more than he already had, no matter how hard it was to see that.
Chapter 5
Jason
Desperately needing to get out of the house and have some fun, I agreed to join my buddies at one of the clubs in Manhattan. I really didn’t like clubs because they were so packed and you could never really see the girl you were talking to between the dimly lit room and the strobe lights, but I thought it would be a good change of pace from the bar and Rose. Don’t get me wrong. She was fucking hot, and I never got tired of dragging her off to the back room, but a little variance in my life would be nice. I just second-guessed hitting on girls because while I was not looking for serious, they didn’t know that, and it wasn’t often you found a girl like Rose, who was more than willing to screw your brains out and not want anything more than that. Sometimes, I wondered what her life was like outside of the bar, but then I stopped myself, remembering the rule to these kinds of relationships was never asking too many questions. I had gone to my loft apartment in SoHo to shower and change clothes before going out.
In the shower, I thought about Tiffany, wondering what she was doing in that house in the Greek District. I remembered when my brother found out she wanted to live there and not the penthouse he had bought the year before. He was pretty damn irritated, but he seemed like he loved her so he agreed as long as he didn’t have to sell his place in Manhattan. She didn’t care, as long as he came home to her every night. I didn’t know what he did with the place since they seemed to be pretty much attached at the hip until he’d left her. Well, it turned out it was a good thing he kept his place, and Tiffany got to keep her house. I guess in a way, it would be nice to leave the city every day, get out into the suburbs where you could enjoy some peace and quiet for a little while. I thought her house was awesome with all the amenities Jordan would love, like a big screen television and pool in the backyard, but with the same feeling you get when you went to your aunt’s place out in the country for the weekend.
When I got out of the shower and dried off, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and shook my head. As usual, I was still thinking about Tiffany. It was starting to drive me nuts, but I guess I cared about the girl and took personally the fact that someone with my name screwed her over. I had always had a small sort of crush on her, but I figured everyone did. I mean, how could you not? She was intelligent, beautiful, forward, and caring toward everyone around her. I saw what Jordan was talking about when he would gush over her for hours when they had first started dating. It was the first time in my life I had listened to Jordan talk about someone other than himself. He had obsessed over Tiffany for years, and when he’d finally caught her, he was smitten as hell. I thought it was good for him, since his taste in women outside of her were usually blond bimbos with very little brain power.
I walked back to my room and pulled out my outfit for the night, putting it on and looking in the mirror. Immediately, I took the shirt back off and tossed it in the corner. I looked like my brother, and it was not what I was going for. Sure, we had a lot of similarities, but it was mostly aesthetic. When it came to business, though, we tended to agree more often than not, and we saw the company going in the same direction. That probably had more to do with having the same educational background and being raised by the same father, but I put a mark on the positive side for our relationship. When I was done getting ready, I checked my hair one last time and gave my reflection a charming smile. I grabbed my keys and took the elevator down a floor and hopped out, glad to see the car I called was already parked out front. The driver opened the door for me and then climbed into the front. He already had my destination, so we pulled off, watching the apartment fade into the background. I looked around as we drove, watching all the people getting out of their cars for an evening out in town. You could tell who the clubbers were and who the rich people on their way to dinner were. The excitement was a completely different level, and with winter quickly approaching, the rich bitches had pulled out their mink stoles and fancy jewelr
y. Driving through Manhattan on a Friday night offered more glittery sights than a jewelry store.
We pulled up in front of the club, and I hopped out, giving the driver my card so he knew my number when I called for a ride home. The doorman greeted me with a hug and a hand shake and opened the ropes to let me straight into the club. I winked at the blond girl standing in the front as I passed and laughed as she blushed and giggled with her friends. When I got inside, I went straight to VIP, finding my friends pulled up around a table, gawking at the girls on the dance floor and pounding back shots of vodka. I ordered a whiskey tonic from the server and pulled up a chair, listening to their mindless chatter about who they were going to be banging in the bathroom at the end of the night. I didn’t really like these guys very much at all, but now that hanging out with Jordan made me sick to my stomach, I had called up my old college buddies and got them into the good clubs. We were all relatively successful, but I was the only billionaire of the group, and they knew I could get them in the good spots. I was pretty sure they used me just as much as I used them to not feel like a loser coming to a club by myself. I didn’t want to be that creepy guy in the corner staring girls down while I sipped my drinks and picked my next victim. I was an ass, but I was not a creepy asshole.
As I took a sip of my drink, I choked. Was that—? Yes, that was Tiffany standing there with her best friend. Immediately, I was floored at how absolutely stunning she looked. She was wearing a short, tight black skirt that barely came over her ass and a low-cut top that was open in the back. Her long sexy legs ended where her six-inch heels picked up. Her long blonde curls fell over her shoulders in ringlets and her smooth fair skin was highlighted with subtle makeup. She was laughing at whatever Mona was saying, but she didn’t look like she was being genuine. I had this overwhelming feeling driving me to go and talk to her. I set my cup down and straightened my shirt, rolling my sleeves up to my elbows to look more comfortable and relaxed. I pushed the chair back and took a big gulp of my drink as I walked forward toward her. As she fake laughed again at whatever the douche in the group was talking about, she turned her head toward me, her fake smile forming into a genuine one. She stepped away from the group and met me across the floor. I leaned in and half hugged her, stopping to kiss her lightly on the cheek. She didn’t think anything of it because that was the normal greeting in our household, but I felt the electricity surge through me as my lips touched her skin.
“How are you?” I had to yell over the music.
“Okay,” she said shrugging. “You?”
“I’m good,” I said nodding. “I’ve been worried about you.”
“Yeah, I saw you called,” she said, smiling awkwardly. “Sorry I didn’t call you back.”
“It’s alright. I understand. I’m just glad you’re doing good,” I replied. “The office hasn’t been the same without you.”
“Yeah, right,” she chuckled. “I bet no one has even noticed.”
“I noticed,” I said feeling an awkward silence coming on. “Look, I just want to say that what my brother did was wrong.”
“It’s okay,” she said taking my hand. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“No, but still, he’s my brother,” I replied. “Even after all the stupid shit he’s done, I thought he was a better man than that.”
“I guess that makes two of us,” she yelled, laughing.
“Can I buy you a drink?”
“Sure.” She shrugged her shoulders and followed me over to the bar.
She ordered a Jack and Diet and I got another whiskey tonic. We stood there, looking at each other for several moments. I thought it would be awkward, but that wasn’t really the vibe. Instead, I felt comfortable around her.
“You remember the time we came here and Mona got wasted and fell off the bar?”
“Oh, my God.” She laughed. “That was like twenty-three stitches. She felt right on that bottle of vodka those guys bought. They were so freaked out by the blood on the table, they wouldn’t let us buy them a new bottle.”