A do-over with Jordan.
A way to make her see me as more than just her client. It was a bad idea. A horrible idea.
Try and really seduce her.
Because for the first time in . . . hell, I didn’t even know how long—she made me want more than just a first date.
Or even a third.
“So should I go now?” Colt stood.
“Sit.” I pushed the cup away. “Sorry, lost in my thoughts.”
“Do that shit on your own time.” Colt put a napkin over the mermaid and folded his hands on the table. “Look, I just don’t want to see anyone get hurt, and girls . . . they’re emotional. Believe me, I’m married to one.”
“Damn it, I knew there was something different about Milo!” I snapped my fingers and pounded the table.
“Hilarious.” Colt rolled his eyes. “Just be careful.” A camera flashed outside the window. “Now that you can’t piss without having your picture taken, if things go south . . .”
South. I smirked. Please let them go south. I could do a lot of damage with south.
“Dude, look at me that way again and I’m going to punch you in the nuts.”
“You sounded like Max just then.” I laughed.
Colt didn’t.
“Not a compliment, was it?”
Colt shook his head very slowly.
“Sorry.” I stood. “I’m going to pack and I’ll see you guys later at the airport . . . Jason’s coming, right?”
“Yeah.” Colton threw our cups in the trash as we walked out. “But his parents made him swear to bring a helmet.”
“He’s twenty-four, why the hell would he need a helmet?”
“Because Milo will be there, and the last time they traveled together Jason suffered three blunt head wounds and a black eye. Guy wore a patch for a full week. We still call him Sparrow.”
I nodded. “Think if we get him drunk enough in Vegas we can convince him to get an actual Sparrow tramp stamp on his lower back?”
Colt chuckled and rubbed his hands together. “We can always blame Max once Jason wakes up from his drunken stupor.”
“Really, we’d be doing him a favor.”
“Yeah, we’ll just have to make sure we tell him that when he wakes up with ink above his low-rise jeans.”
I checked my watch. “All kidding aside, I really need to get back to the apartment.” I kept my head down, making sure my hat and sunglasses were in place. “I’ll see you at the airport.”
Colton put on his black Ray-Bans and nodded. “Think they’ll have enough alcohol on that plane to sedate us? I’m worried that we’ll all be traveling with Max in such confined space.”
“Welcome to my hell.” I turned around and waved. “See ya soon.”
Colt returned my wave and hailed a taxi while I made my way down the street.
While waiting for the walk signal, I pulled out my phone and texted Jordan, who I’d programmed into my phone as Sebastian.
Me: You packed?
Sebastian: NOTHING FITS!
Me: Why the all caps?
Sebastian: You cook too well and my swimsuit from last year looks like . . . hell, it looks horrible. I can’t wear it. I can’t.
Me: Naked suits you. I thought we discussed this?
Sebastian: Prison, however, does not, so if you want me to stay out, I need to go shopping, but I don’t have time and Otis cried when I dropped him off at doggie day care.
Me: Dogs don’t cry.
Sebastian: Full-on sobs!
Me: He’s fine.
Sebastian: I left him a toy, do you think he thinks I abandoned him?
Me: Yes.
Sebastian: I CAN’T GO TO VEGAS!
Okay, damage control was seriously not working. With a flick of my wrist, I looked at the time. I had a few hours left—I could pack like a champ. I was going to officially fix one problem.
Me: You’re going to Vegas. What’s your size . . . I’ll stop by Saks.
Sebastian: Never ask a woman what size she is!
Me: If you don’t tell me I’ll just buy every size and return the rest.
Sebastian: . . .
Me: Spit it out. Didn’t hear you!
Sebastian: Eight.
Me: And what a beautiful eight . . . I’ll pick out a few suits. And before you freak out, I have amazing fashion sense. Also, Otis is fine, he’s just spoiled and wants to go with. It’s the weekend, not a month. He’ll make friends and probably fall in love with a Chihuahua named Milo, they’ll hump like rabbits and have miniature E.T. aliens and all will be right in the world. Now get your ass packed.
Sebastian: A Chihuahua? Really?
Me: PACK!
Sebastian: DON’T YELL!
Me: Pack, please.
Sebastian: Fine, and I like black.
Me: Great, because you’re getting red!
Sebastian: I said black.
Me: Sorry, losing cell service.
Sebastian: Texting service?
Me: A:DGJDG:HDGJSDLKJGF
Sebastian: REID!
Me: JORDAN!
I shoved my phone back in my pocket though it continued to buzz, I’m sure with expletives and other choice language. I couldn’t remember the last time a girl getting irritated with me actually made my day.