***
I hadn’t planned on going to Enigma. Hell, I hadn’t planned on going anywhere. I thought I’d work on a project that had been sorely lacking my attention. Then I’d work out until I was too exhausted to do anything but fall into a dead ass sleep.
But here I was, heading up the steps to the VIP lounge and happy to see Julian sitting at the balcony rail, sipping a drink, scowling at something on the main floor. I laughed when he jumped as my hand came down on his shoulder.
“Who are you about to kill, and can I help?” I asked with a grin.
He didn’t respond, just kept scowling down at the floor, then chuckled and looked up at me. His sudden change of mood was confusing. “Forget your meds today?” I asked and took a seat across from him.
He grinned and looked back down. “Nah. Just enjoying the view.”
I followed his sight line and spotted a gorgeous blonde handing some pissed off looking dude a towel. The man stood, and I could see that his crotch was wet. I looked back at Julian, who hadn’t taken his eyes off the blonde.
“Pretty.”
He nodded and slid his eyes over to me, piercing me with his gaze. “Off limits,” he barked, “I’m helping her out.”
The waitress had set my usual drink onto the table. I lifted the glass to my lips and took a long drink. “Helping, huh?”
He narrowed his eyes further. “Yes, helping. Hands off.”
I lifted my hand in mock surrender. “I hear you. Want to talk about it?”
He scoffed. “No, Dr. Phil. I think I’m good.”
I laughed and looked back down to the floor, then glanced back over to Julian to see him practically salivating over the blonde. She lifted a tray over her head and the hem of her dress rose. Julian groaned, and I laughed again.
He scowled over at me. “You seem to be in a good mood,” he said and took a long drink, then signaled to the bartender for another round.
I kept the smile plastered on my face. “Life is… um, interesting.”
Julian snorted. “You buy that bumper sticker?”
“Yep, and the t-shirt.”
Silence fell between us. Not an awkward one, we’d known each other too long for that. But it felt empty, like there was something hanging between us that needed to be said. I glanced at him again, tempted to tell him about Riley. Fuck. I needed someone’s advice. Why not my best friend’s? But I wasn’t ready. Besides, I was a fucking dude. Dudes didn’t talk about feelings and shit.
Instead, we talked about football and the new MLB baseball team, the Beasts, and how we both wanted to get season tickets. We talked business. Women. Normal locker room shit. Riley’s name sat on the edge of my tongue, but I couldn’t say it out loud just yet. Not even with Julian.
“You okay, man?” I asked Julian as he stared back down at the main level.
I found the same blonde waitress he was watching. Helping out. Yeah, right. But I wouldn’t push it. Julian clearly wasn’t ready to talk about a girl either.
He flicked a glance at me. “Yeah. I’m good.”
I smirked, then all humor fled as I watched him watching the girl. I missed Riley.
And I hated that I missed her. Lifting my drink, I downed it in a single gulp, and stood up. I clamped a hand on Julian’s shoulder. “Let’s talk soon. I’ve got some things on my mind too.”
He seemed to do a double take and looked up at me, brow furrowed. “Want to head to the office?” he offered. “I’ve got time now.”
I looked at my watch. “Not now. Later this week, maybe.”
He stood and held out a hand. “Anytime, anywhere.”
I shook his hand and strode off toward the steps, checking the time again. Heading down, I glanced back at Julian one last time. He was still staring at the girl.
And I had a feeling that both of our lives were about to change.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Riley
I settled into the plastic chair with an exhausted sigh. Every part of my body ached, but my calves hurt the most. Taking a moment to myself, I closed my eyes and stretched my legs out under the table. At least I was alone in the bakery. With the day done, all the customers and other employees were gone. It was just me, a dirty floor waiting to be swept, and a cash register waiting to be counted.
Opening my eyes, I stretched my arms above my head and looked out the window. Being busy all week long had been good. It afforded me less time to think about Xavier.
I thought he’d call by now, or at least text. The Xavier I thought I knew the week before wouldn’t have, but the Xavier I saw over the weekend? He was the kind of guy who didn’t let you out of his sight, the kind of guy who checked in every morning and called every night to make sure you got home safe.
What happened to that guy? Did he only come out on the weekends? On the full moon?
I could have just texted Xavier myself, but I didn’t know what I’d say. Hey, what’s up? I couldn’t ask him to meet up right then because I was up to my eyeballs in work.
He could have been busy. Just like me. The whole week had been kicking my butt. In an attempt to make up for angering Dan over the weekend, I’d picked up two extra shifts. Add those to my waitressing shifts, and that meant the last two days had been doubles. I was close to falling over. But at least I’d caught up in the money department. All my bills would be paid on time this month and I’d have some cash to put into savings. Remembering that made me feel a little bit better about my whole life.
Taking the bills out of the drawer, I started counting. I wrote everything down as I went, in an extra attempt to get the numbers right. Once I finished, I counted the bills all over again, checked my totals, and made a drawer for the next day. I put the fresh drawer back in the cash register and deposited the rest of the money in the safe in the office. Now all that was left was the floor. After I cleaned that, I was out of here.
As I walked back to the front, debating what kind of cleaning music I should jam out to, my phone beeped. I hurried over to my purse and took it out. Xavier.
Hey, did you see my wristwatch while we were at the cabin?
The initial euphoria I felt over seeing his name pop on my phone vanished. Instead, annoyance took its place. This was how he chose to get back in touch after four days of silence? By asking me if I’d seen his wristwatch?
And who even wore watches anymore? Rich, stuffy businessmen, that’s who. Like Xavier. A guy who could probably afford to buy every watch in the world, plus some more.
Nope. Sorry. I texted back.
I realized how cutting I sounded and composed a second text. I’ll look in my bag when I get home. Maybe it got picked up with some of my stuff.