Shame on Me

Well, the multitude of kitten pictures on her Facebook page makes sense now. But I fear for the children of our future if she’s the one educating them.

“It has to be the guy she was with the other night then. You don’t know anything about him? You didn’t recognize him?” I question as someone jostles me from behind and I slam up against the front of Matt.

I put my hands up against his chest and look up at him so I can apologize. He’s staring down at me. Actually, he’s staring right at my lips and his arms wrap around my waist to steady me, but pull me closer instead.

We stand this way until the noise and all of the people around us fade away like in some cheesy rom-com. All I can focus on is the feel of his body pressed up against mine and the way he can’t stop staring at my mouth, like he wants to kiss me.

“This is weird. Is it weird for you? Tell me it’s not just me. I mean, I just met you,” he explains with frustration.

“It’s not just you,” I reassure him, feeling equally annoyed and turned on all at the same time.

Shame on me for thinking I was going to get out of this with my heart intact.





CHAPTER 7




Are you sure? I don’t have a good feeling about this,” Matt tells me as he grips my hand tightly while I pull him with me through the dance floor and over to the roped-off VIP area.

I stop right at the edge of the dance floor and turn around to face him. “I’m sure. Don’t worry. Someone needs to go up there and get her to talk, and it’s obviously not going to be you. She has no idea who I am, so it’s the perfect plan.”

He glances back and forth between the VIP area and me. “You must think I’m a complete loser. What kind of guy asks the most beautiful woman in this place to spy on his ex-wife?”

I laugh and rub my hand up and down his arm reassuringly. “You didn’t ask. I volunteered. But thank you for the compliment.”

“I don’t know why I’m even worrying. You’re never going to be able to get in there,” he tells me, staring at the bald, buff, badass-looking bouncer who is currently standing guard in front of the ropes.

“Don’t worry about me, I’m pretty resourceful,” I tell him with a wink. “Just wait for me back by the bar so she doesn’t see you.”

He leans in and kisses me on the cheek before walking away. I watch him push his way back through the crowd, then I take a deep breath and walk right up to the bouncer, tapping him on the shoulder so he’ll look down at me.

He turns his head with a scowl on his face, not too happy about the fact that yet another person is going to bug him to get up into the VIP area. When he sees me standing there, the scowl turns into a huge smile that appears rather strange on a man who looks like he just got out of prison.

“Paige! Holy shit! What the fuck are you doing slumming here, beautiful?”

Yet another thing I failed to mention to Matt—I recognized the bouncer as soon as I walked into the club. He was one of the regular bouncers at a club I frequented during the height of my modeling career.

“Ronny, it’s so good to see you!” I tell him as he leans down and scoops me up into a bone-crushing hug, lifting me up off of my feet.

I guess when you’re six foot seven and weigh over three hundred pounds, you could lift a building without breaking a sweat.

Ronny finally sets me back on my feet and holds me out at arm’s length.

“When did you start working here? Last time I saw you, you were breaking up a fight at the Viper Room in LA,” I remind him.

“Eh, the wife got transferred to Indy for her job. So here I am,” he says with a shrug. “You want to go up into the VIP area?”

He nods behind him and unhooks one end of the velvet rope.

“Thanks, Ronny. Give Kim my love,” I tell him as I walk past him and into the private area.

“Will do. Don’t be a stranger now,” he calls after me, hooking the rope back into place after I walk through.

I make my way up the three steps to the walkway that leads to all of the VIP lounges, grabbing a glass of champagne off of a passing tray as a waiter walks by. I pause just outside of the wall of Melanie’s lounge and take a deep breath.

Showtime.

Putting on a huge smile, I giggle at nothing as I stumble into the opening of the room and flop down on the end of the huge sectional sofa where Melanie and her friends are sitting. They immediately stop talking and stare at me. They look like Charlie’s Angels. Melanie in the middle is blonde, the friend on her left is a brunette, and the one on her right has black hair.

“Oh, my gosh! I’m SO drunk. I’m totally in the wrong lounge!” I tell them with another giggle and a sip of my champagne.

They immediately smile at me and Melanie speaks first. “It’s cool. Drink up, sister!”