The Stopover (The Miles High Club, #1)(23)
“Ask him if he feels like he might die if he doesn’t get to touch you again.”
I frown. “Why would I ask him that?” I whisper.
“Because there’s another man who does.” The phone clicks as he hangs up.
I frown as I stare at the phone in my hand as I feel tingles all the way to my toes.
Holy fucking shit.
I put my hand over my mouth; I can’t believe this.
I stumble back into the bar to find my two friends bouncing in their chairs as they wait for my return. “What happened?” they all but scream.
I slump and put my hands in my hair. “He wanted me to go over to his place and put him out of his misery.”
“Holy fucking shit,” Aaron cries. “Can I have your autograph?”
“Are you going?” Molly stammers. “Please tell me you’re going.”
I shake my head. “No.” I think for a moment. “He told me to ask my boyfriend if he felt like he would die if he didn’t get to touch me again.”
They frown as they listen.
“Because there is another man who does.”
“What?” Molly screeches. “Oh holy hell, we need tequila.” She gets up and disappears to the bar.
“He asked you to his place?” Aaron squeaks.
I nod.
“Do you know where he lives?”
“No.”
“Park Avenue, overlooking Central Park.”
“How do you know that?”
“Google. He used to live in the One57 Billionaire Building, but he moved out of there and into a building on Park Avenue. His apartment is worth something like fifty million.”
“Fifty million,” I gasp. “Are you serious? How could anything be worth fifty million dollars? That’s just ridiculous.”
He shrugs. “Beats me. Must have gold toilets or something.”
I giggle as I get a vision of someone sitting on a gold toilet.
Molly sits back in her seat and hands me a shot of tequila. “Drink this, and then go and fuck him stupid.”
“I’m not going,” I snap.
“Well, what’s the plan of attack?” she asks. “Are you playing hard to get?”
“No attack. I’m going home to see Robbie tomorrow.” I exhale heavily. “I need to sort out our relationship, and hopefully he will come back with me.”
Aaron rolls his eyes in disappointment. “Can’t you at least be as excited about Jameson Miles as we are?”
“No. I’m not. And remember, not a word to anyone.” I sip my drink. “I know exactly what will happen with Jameson Miles. I’ll sleep with him once, and then he will move on to his next victim, and I’ll be conveniently fired.” I shake my head in disgust. “I’ve worked too damn hard to get this job, and this is the man who didn’t even want my number the last time we slept together.”
Aaron turns up his nose. “God, why are you so sensible?”
“I know, it totally sucks.” I sigh.
Molly’s phone rings. “Please let it be Jameson Miles looking for a backup plan,” she huffs with an eye roll. “Hello.”
She frowns as she listens. “Oh hello, Margaret. Yes, I remember who you are. You’re Chanel’s mother.”
She smiles as she listens, and then her face falls. “What?” Her eyes widen. “Are you serious?” She pinches the bridge of her nose. “Yes.” It sounds like she’s unable to get a word in. “I can understand why you’re upset.”
She narrows her eyes and shakes her head at us. “I’m so sorry.”
Aaron and I frown at each other. “What’s happened?” I mouth.
“How explicit are we talking?” she asks. Her eyes widen. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” She listens. “No, please, don’t go to the principal. I appreciate you calling me first.”
She closes her eyes as she listens. “Once again, my sincere apologies. Thank you. I’ll handle it, yes. Goodbye.”
“What?” I ask.
She puts her head in her hands. “Oh my God. That was Chanel’s mother, the girl my son is crushing on. She went through Chanel’s phone and found provocative messages between them.”
I bite my lip to stop myself from smiling as I listen. “That’s pretty normal in this day and age, isn’t it?” I try to make her feel better. “I think they all do it.”
“How old is this girl?” Aaron asks.
“Fifteen,” Molly cries.
I giggle as I listen. God, I can’t imagine what it’s like to have a teenage son. She dials her ex-husband’s number. “Hello,” she snaps. “Go into your son’s bedroom, and grab his phone, and throw the damn thing in the toilet. He is grounded for life.”
She listens.
Aaron and I begin to giggle uncontrollably.
“Michael,” she says as she inhales deeply to try to calm down. “I know he’s been seeing her, and I know she probably likes it. He’s fifteen years old,” she whispers angrily. “Take his phone, or be prepared for me to come over and smash it.” She hangs up in a rush and puts her head down on the table and pretends to bang it continually.
Aaron and I burst out laughing, and I put my hand on her back. “Do you want some more tequila, Moll?” I ask sweetly.