Avoiding Decisions (Avoiding #1.5)(11)

The End.

Ramsey’s Point of View

The First Time Ramsey Meets Lexi

CHAPTER 1

GET OUT

“Bek, come on. I know who I am looking for,” Ramsey said impatiently into the phone. He was ready to be back in Atlanta now that his vacation was practically over. He had business he needed to take care of with his clubs. In particular, a certain Valentine that he had just hired.

“You just can’t f**k this up for me. Daddy wanted me to do the interview, but you were already in New York. It made more sense,” Bekah said.

“I got it,” he grumbled, running his hand across the rumpled hotel sheets. The cleaning crew better come to his room before tonight. It would be awkward if he brought a girl here, and it still smelled like the last. “Anything else?”

“No. But will you please pay more attention to the interview than your next conquest? I know the company matters to you so much,” she drawled sarcastically, “but you’ll be surprised to find out that it still matters to some people. Me, mostly.”

“And we all know what really matters,” he said, walking across the room, sitting in a chair that looked out across Central Park, and crossing his leg over his knee at the ankle.

“Oh, shut up,” she snapped.

Ramsey smiled. He could practically see Bekah rolling her eyes on the other end of the line. She was so easy to rile up.

Bekah continued when he didn’t say anything else. “I can’t believe you’re insisting on doing this in a club, as if you don’t spend enough time in them.” The disdain was apparent.

“It’s where I’m most comfortable.” Which was true. He spent more time in his clubs now than anywhere. After Parker had left, there hadn’t been anything for him. Now he had the clubs, and most of the time they were the only thing that mattered.

Bekah scoffed. “Then so be it. Just remember call me later to tell me how the interview went. I have to go,” she responded, clicking off of the line without waiting for his response.

Typical Bekah.

“How lovely,” he said, stuffing his Blackberry into his suit coat pocket.

Ramsey picked up the drink he had left forgotten on the table after Bekah called. The ice sloshed through the whiskey and clinked against the edge of the glass as he twirled it in his hand. He tipped the glass up to his lips and tilted the liquor into his mouth. The whiskey slid easily down his throat, and he wished for at least the fifth time tonight that he had gotten something a little smoother. He didn’t always care for finest things in life, despite how he had been raised, but whiskey was a resounding exception. He wasn’t even sure why he had ordered this drink from room service, when he was going out soon. Maybe it just helped him drown out everything else in his life. Drown out her.

“Who were you talking to, darling?” a voice crooned from the bathroom.

“Really none of your business,” he responded sharply. He took another drink and as he took a look at the woman standing before him, he remembered all over again why he had ordered it.

“Was it your wife?” A tall, leggy blonde in nothing but a towel peered around the corner of the bathroom. She had flawless milky skin, long lean legs that didn’t even touch at the tops of her thighs, and full fake br**sts that peeked out of the top of the towel. Her lips were pouty and eyes wide and a light blue almost grey color.

“Wouldn’t you like it if it was?” he drawled. He had to refrain from rolling his eyes. This type of woman kind of disgusted him, and he wasn’t sure what that said about himself.

“Oh, so you are married,” she said, as if it didn’t surprise her in the least.

“Hardly.”

The girl shrugged. She actually didn’t care one way or another. “Suit yourself. Are we going out?”

“I have work. We aren’t going anywhere,” he said curtly, staring at her with a blank expression on his face.

“What do you do anyway?” she asked, ignoring his statement. Her blonde hair flopped to one side, and she managed to look completely incompetent. She had clearly spent her entire life using her giant boobs to get her way. Well, it had worked on him for a solid afternoon. Good enough.

“Please, get out,” he said, pointing at the door.

“What?”

“Out. Get out of my hotel room.”

“But…I don’t understand,” she said, her eyes wide.

“I’m sure you understand very little, but I think get out is in your vocabulary.”

“Asshole,” she said, dropping her towel shamelessly to the floor. She strode casually across the room and reached ever so slowly for her clothes piled neatly on a chair. She changed back into the dress and heels she had been wearing that afternoon, when Ramsey had picked her up all too easy at the bar in the restaurant down the block. With how slow she was moving and the way she was twisting her body so that he had full view of all of her finer assets, she obviously thought he would change his mind or something. Not very bright indeed.

The woman took her time walking across the room, and Ramsey managed to control himself enough not to stand and force her out. She opened the door and looked over her shoulder at him. Her hair fanned around her face seductively.

“Are you sure you don’t want another round, baby?” she purred.

“I’d rather use my own hand then have you remain in this hotel room.”