Frayed (Connections, #4)(68)

“Who are you?” I ask her.

She smiles. “I’m the new manager. My name is Kate.”

I lift my glass. “Nice to meet you, Kate. The place looks great.”

“Yeah, the band Echo starts tonight. They’re really good. You sticking around?”

“I might be.”

Beer after beer . . . I chug them down and before I know it I’ve moved on to my trusty old Jack. She pours me another drink and I hazily stare at what she’s wanted me to notice all night. Her tits hang out of her tight T-shirt nicely. They’re not bad-looking and neither is she—short blond hair, medium height, about forty.

“How do you know Beck?” she asks over the start of the blasting sound of the bass.

I glance around and notice the band is onstage and the dance floor is full. “I met him here. He works for me now.”

She smiles. “You’re his new boss.”

I try not to slur my words. “That would be me. I’m Ben. Ben Covington.” I reach for her hand.

She extends hers. “Nice to meet you.”

A redhead I hadn’t noticed before calls her over to the other end of the bar. When I look over toward her, she winks at me and I can’t keep my lips from pulling into a frown as I think of S’belle’s red hair. My mind wanders back to what she told me today—I have a child out there somewhere in the world. A child that is about the same age I was when my father died. My mood turns dark.

“She’s bad news,” the bartender says.

I turn to look at her. “Makes no difference to me.”

She nods. “Trust me, it should.”

I shrug. “A chick’s a chick.”

I stand up and gain my balance, needing to hit the restroom. To get to the back hallway I need to weave my way through the crowd. The number of people has multiplied tenfold since I arrived and everyone seems to be in their own world, caught up in the music and seduction of those around them. The band is pretty decent and I catch the sound of horns in the background, which even in my state draws my attention. The bartender chick was right, they are pretty good.

When I come out I run right into the redhead from the bar. Her gaze traces me and I allow mine to do the same to her. She’s tall, really tall. Her features are attractive enough and her body isn’t bad. I zero in on her ample chest and catch sight of her nipples pebbling through her sheer top. Fuck, she’s not wearing a bra.

“Fancy meeting you here,” she says, her eyes locking on mine.

I allow a smirk to cross my lips. “Something tells me you planned it.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Cocky, aren’t you?”

I shrug. “Can I buy you a drink?”

She smiles and steps a little closer. “I’d love that.”

I sidestep her to head to the bar. The place is so packed there’s nowhere to move. I turn toward her. “Stay here and I’ll grab us a couple of drinks. What are you drinking?”

She tugs the collar of my shirt. “We could go somewhere . . . quieter,” she whispers in my ear as she leans forward.

I pull back and stare at her, considering the possibility of forgetting everything and just getting lost in her. “How about a drink first?”

“Sure, vodka cranberry.”

Just as I pass the dance floor I come face-to-face with not only Tate Wyatt but f*cking Romeo Fairchild. I try to ignore them both, but as soon as I walk past them one of their hands is on my shoulder.

“Ben, man, it’s been far too long.”

I’m in no mood for this guy’s shit. I turn to look at him. My eyes take him in—dressed in a suit with a smug-ass look on his face. I really want to deck him. “Not long enough,” I mutter under my breath, and keep walking.

“I saw your name on your friend’s phone not too long ago. Shame you’re just friends because she’s a hot piece of ass.”

“Why the f*ck is she showing you her phone?” I don’t even give him time to explain because I don’t give a shit what he has to say. I just turn around ready to pound him to the floor like the piece of shit he is. This arrogant son of bitch and I were never friends, but his superiority complex isn’t why he hates me. He hates me because he couldn’t get the one thing in high school he wanted—Dahlia.

A hand grips my shoulder a little too tightly and draws my attention. I twist around, ready to deck the guy getting in my space.

“What’s going on?” Beck asks.

My teeth are gritted and the anger is all I can feel. He steps between me and them. He whispers something to them I can’t hear and they make their way toward the door.

“Yeah, you better leave,” I spit out.

Beck grabs me. “Shut the f*ck up.”

I take a step back. “Yeah, sorry, man.”

His lips settle into a thin firm line. “Come on, man, let’s get out of here.” He pulls me toward the back door and Ruby is right behind him. I nod in her direction. The fraction of a smile graces her lips in return.

I look at Beck. “You two just got here. Don’t you want to stay and celebrate with me?”

He furrows his brow. “Let’s get you home and you can tell me all about what you’re celebrating.”

“Fair enough.”

“Hey, what happened to that drink?” the redhead asks, pulling on my shirt.