You've got to be kidding me. Not today.
In my haste to escape the woman chasing me, I haven't paid attention to who was already in the elevator. Turns out it's none other than Elizabeth Carlton—a woman I've slept with many times, but who always wanted more than I was willing to give.
I turn to look at her, taking in her always immaculately styled look of long blonde hair, perfect make-up, short red dress, and heels that must kill her feet. Usually, simply looking at the woman turns me on, but today I doubt I could get it up even if I tried.
Jesus.
What's wrong with me?
"A man needs a day off every once in a while, Elizabeth," I reply, making sure to keep my tone flat and uninterested. Encouraging her today is the last thing on my list. I have something much more important to attend to.
She gives me a wry laugh as she flicks her hair. "I doubt that very much. If there's one man in this city who never takes a day off from chasing tail, it's you."
I rub the back of my neck and clench my jaw. "If you must know, I'm taking my sister to an awards ceremony." I'm not sure why I'm even bothering to explain myself to her.
Her perfectly shaped brows rise. "Anastasia's home? I wouldn't have thought she'd want to show her face after the last scandal that was printed in the papers here."
If I thought there was no way she could turn me on today, I now know there's no way she'll ever turn me on again. I've always ignored her faults because her body blinded me, but to say shit like this to me is not something I ever condone.
"Perhaps if gossiping bitches put their time into their own lives, they'd be a lot happier," I suggest as I track the floor numbers on the elevator display panel. Ana's floor can't come soon enough.
Before she can respond, the elevator stops. Her gaze darts to see what level we are on, and she takes a step towards the door. Looking back at me, her eyes roam over my body before she says, "You should call me, Tanner. It's been far too long between drinks."
Not long enough.
I will never understand some women. Even when I try to give them the hint that I'm not interested, they don't listen. Stooping so low as to insult them doesn't work most of the time either. It causes me guilt, but all it seems to do is increase their interest.
A couple of minutes later, I exit the elevator and head to Ana's suite. As I knock on the door, it is yanked open and a woman collides with me in her haste to leave.
"Jesus, Tanner," she mutters as she stops and regroups.
"Your manners precede you, Kadence." Sarcasm drips from my words as I step to the side so she can move past me.
She glares at me. We have a long history of pissing each other off. I detest the woman and can't for the life of me figure out why Ana keeps her around.
"Screw you," she snaps before stalking down the hall towards the elevator. No doubt she's in need of a cigarette.
"You're early." Ana greets me from the couch when I enter the suite and I detect the stress she's experiencing in her voice.
I drop a kiss on her cheek and say, "I'd rather you chastise me for being early than for late."
She pokes her tongue out at me and then moves the conversation along to what I'm sure is a much more important topic for her. "What do you think of my dress?" She stands and smoothes her hands over the blue dress she's wearing.
"You look beautiful, Ana." She always does, but I know she won't believe me. Although my sister's beauty has been undeniable since she was a toddler, she struggles to see herself the way everyone else does.
She surprises the hell out of me today, though, when her face breaks out in a huge smile and she agrees. "Thank you. I've got Juliette to thank for this."
"Juliette?" I figure she must be one of Ana's horrid hanger-on friends.
Ana smacks me on the arm and shoots me a dirty look. "She's my new stylist. And you can stop thinking those awful thoughts about my friends that I know you must be from the look that just went across your face. They're not as bad as you think they are."
"I don't know what you classify as bad, but in my opinion, anyone who uses you for money or fame in the way your friends do, is a bad friend. And don't even get me started on the way they talk shit about you behind your back."
She opens her mouth to respond, but a cough from behind me catches our attention. Turning, I'm surprised to see the woman who tripped over her heels while getting out of a taxi earlier. She must have been in the bedroom because I didn't hear the door to the suite open.