The cab we were riding in pulled up in front of Six and I handed the driver some money, thanked him and followed Cara onto the sidewalk.
“The glove does not fit, my friend?” I said to her. “I’m just here to have some drinks with my best, most paranoid friend. And also return this shirt.”
I clutched Kane’s flannel shirt in one hand and my bag in the other. Since I was in public, I resisted my urge to press it against my nose and inhale its cedar scent yet again.
I’d been single for so long that I was extra susceptible to excitement over manly things. Muscles, flannel and stubble actually made me tingly these days. Ten months without sex was a long time for a 28-year-old woman. Especially since that sex hadn’t even been good.
And in my most honest moments, I admitted to myself that much more than sex was missing from my life. I envied couples I saw holding hands at the farmer’s market. I wanted someone to share life’s ups and downs with, and my efforts to find that someone had only turned up one lousy guy after another.
Cara poked my shoulder, bringing my attention back into the moment. “I don’t think we’re getting into Six tonight,” she said, sounding defeated.
I followed her gaze to a line that stretched down the sidewalk. The bouncer at the front door was explaining to someone that they couldn’t get in without a reservation.
Things didn’t look promising.
“Let’s go to that new place I was telling you about,” Cara suggested. “The sushi bar. It’s only a couple blocks from here. We can walk.”
She turned to walk away from the club, but I stopped her. “Wait. Just give me a second.”
The bouncer at the door was almost as wide and muscled as Kane. He held a hand up as soon as I approached.
“Sorry, we’re full unless you’ve got a res—”
“This is Kane’s.” I held the shirt up halfheartedly. “I was hoping to return it. If we can’t get in, can I just—”
The bouncer’s brows shot up. “Oh. Come on in,” he said, lifting up the hook on the rope that cordoned off the entrance. He called to a woman in a black dress. “Elyse, she’s here to see Kane. You have a table open upstairs?”
The pretty redhead smiled and extended her arm. “Of course. Right this way.”
I waved to Cara, who dashed through the opening in the rope and grabbed my arm.
“Who is this guy, anyway, Viv?” she whispered. “You dropped his name and we not only got in, she’s taking us upstairs.”
“It’s probably just overflow seating,” I said absently, scanning the room for the burly, tattooed man whose shirt I held.
“Are you kidding? All the good stuff is upstairs in clubs like this.”
I met her eyes with a silent question about just what kind of club this was. I wasn’t going to say the words in front of the redhead who was leading us up the open, smooth stone staircase.
The table we were led to in a small, private room was already set for two. An open door led out to a huge balcony that overlooked the first floor of the club. People were drinking and dancing out there.
“I’ll let Mr. Kane know you’re here,” the redhead said. “And a server will be here shortly.”
“No, I’ll go down and find him,” I said, getting up and following her to the door. I turned to Cara. “You don’t mind?”
She waved a hand. “Course not. I’ll go out there and mingle.”
I descended the staircase, keeping a hand on the polished marble railing as I scanned the club. The dance floor was filling up fast. But why was I looking there for Kane? Just the thought of him dancing made me break out in a smile.
After two trips around the first floor, I still hadn’t seen him. I went down the hallway that led to his office and found his door was open just a crack. I leaned against the wall to wait.
“ . . . better than that,” Kane was saying. “I’ve got no choice but to fire you.”