Gold (All that Glitters #2)(3)

Bryna stormed away, back to her friends. She struggled to find composure.

The thought of Gates irritated her to no end. He had been in love with her, and everything had gone straight to shit. She hadn’t even talked to him since he kicked her out of his movie premiere, and now, Eric Wilkins had brought him up.

Ugh!

And that only made her think of one thing. Images flooded her mind. The most prominent of them all was him.

Jude.

She took a deep breath and shut down. She locked away the image of him. She refused to think about the man she had once loved telling her he was married with a son, and then him turning around, following his wife out of the banquet room, and leaving her forever.

She swallowed hard. This wasn’t right. Jude’s name held no power over her. Never again would he hold any power over her.

She shouldn’t let this get to her. Gates was out of her life. Jude was out of her life. And Eric Wilkins didn’t matter.

“SO, WHAT DID HE SAY?” Trihn asked. She planted her hand on her hip and gave Bryna an expectant look, thinking she had the cat in the bag.

“No. He said no,” she said tightly.

“What?” Stacia asked. Her mouth dropped open in her overly dramatic style. “I can’t believe it.”

“Well, believe it.”

“I mean…have you ever been rejected before?” Stacia asked. “I haven’t. What was it like? Did it suck?”

“I’m giving you my big, fat f*cking I-told-you-so. I knew he’d say no,” she said as if everything else he had said didn’t bother her in the slightest. “Now, where are my drinks, bitches?”

“Maybe we should verify,” Trihn said.

Bryna shrugged her shoulders. “Confirm if you must, but Eric is going to tell you the same damn thing. I think a better use of our time would be to find some guys in VIP to buy me those drinks.”

Trihn still looked skeptical but acquiesced to Bryna’s suggestion. They walked across the room and to the upstairs VIP lounge. The bouncer checked them out first before allowing them access. In L.A., Bryna wouldn’t have even needed a second glance. If the bouncer didn’t know her, then her promoter friend, Max, would always put her name on the list. The scene was so different here.

Trihn swished her hair to one side and smiled at the bouncer. “Thanks!”

Bryna kept from rolling her eyes. Trihn, the eternally nice one.

“You don’t have to talk to him,” Bryna murmured.

“What?” Trihn asked.

“The bouncer. You don’t have to talk to him.”

“Ignore, Bri,” Stacia said. “You know she’s a bitch.”

“I am,” she conceded. “But I stand by my statement. Your approach to bouncers might be different in Brooklyn, but isn’t everything?”

“Hey now. Brooklyn gets a lot of heat, but it fits my image,” Trihn said with a smile. “Plus, you can’t have a fashion photographer for a father without living in an artsy area. You all should be glad I ended up with the fashion side and not the artsy side.”

“Trihn…you’re a design major. Does that not scream artsy to you?”

“At least I have a major,” she said, pointedly staring at Bryna.

“Whatever. I assume you lived your life like Dan from Gossip Girl.”

“I am not Lonely Boy!” Trihn cried.

Then, all three of them cracked up laughing at the ridiculous turn of their conversation.

“Drinks!” Bryna cried.

She ushered them away from the entrance. Once she reached the bar, she eyed the crowd and focused on her prey. She could see a couple of hot guys who would likely buy drinks for them with no more than a smile from her. The home game had brought in so many prospects.

Leaning forward against the bar, she let her chest pop over the top of her dress, and she winked at the bartender. “Maya!”

Maya fluttered her fingertips at them from the other side of the bar. The girls had quickly become regulars at Posse, and Maya was their favorite bartender. She finished pouring drinks for a group of frat douches and then sauntered all five-foot-ten inches of her luscious African-American caramel-toned body over to them. “Hey, babes. What can I get for you?”

Bryna pursed her lips and looked around the room. “Him and him and maybe him, too.” She pointed out each guy in turn.

“You don’t need help with them. Not if I know you,” Maya said. “How about a dirty martini with three olives?”

“You know me so well,” Bryna crooned.

“Trihni, my love!” Maya leaned across the bar and kissed Trihn on the cheek. “Gin and tonic, and something girlie for the cheer slut?”

“Perfection,” Trihn said. “Just like you.”

“I love when you talk dirty to me,” Stacia said.

A minute later, all three drinks were placed in front of the girls. Before any of them could retrieve their wallets, a guy motioned for Maya to put it on his tab. Bryna raised an eyebrow as Trihn fawned over his generosity. He was good-looking in an LV State button-up and slacks that he had likely worn to the game. His appearance screamed wealthy alumnus, and even though everything in Bryna told her to back away, she couldn’t help but be interested in older guys. Another unfortunate side effect of the Jude catastrophe.