High Strung (Power Station Book 1) (28 page)

“Of course they offered it to you. I knew you had it in the bag.” He unfolded his arms and pulled me onto his chest. “Best you learn now, babe, I’m always right. And as for playing with the
big boys
, pretty sure I already took care of that.”

“Could your ego get any bigger? Is there even a shred of humility that lives within you?” I nestled into the crook of his arm, falling into my own little happy place. My distaste was purely superficial. His self-assurance didn’t bother me as much as it usually did. Desensitization and all that. His attitude was sexy.

“It’s not my ego that is getting bigger babe, that’s my cock,” he whispered into my ear.

I tried to resist laughing. Honestly. I even bit my lip, but it was futile. Between floating on clouding freaking nine from the amazing news I had received and Dan’s predictable but well-delivered response, I didn’t stand a chance. Instead I dissolved into a fit of laughter, wrapping myself around his firm, warm body like a vine.

“I’m really happy for you, Ash.” Dan’s finger traced the edge of my jaw. “I love it when you laugh.”

It was official. My long-term plan was going to need modification. I was too deliriously happy to walk away from Dan. Whenever that kick in the gut came, I would take it. I would accept whatever misery came after this. The days I would spend in my PJs crying into a pint of Ben and Jerry’s after he had eventually broken my heart. It will have all been worth it, just for this. This moment, right now.

“You know, I’m not
feeling well. Why don’t we grab the check and I’ll head home.” I swiped the screen on my phone. It was nine thirty and as far as birthdays went, this one kind of blew. I wanted to go. Find an excuse to ditch my friends and go see Dan. I knew it was wrong and one night apart wasn’t going to kill me, but it was my birthday so surely I should be able to do what I wanted to do.

It was almost impossible to get a booking at The Mexican Cantina, the wait unusually extending months. They had the best Mexican food in the city and how Megs had been able to secure us a table on such short notice was still a mystery. Maybe her dad had called in a favor or something? The food was amazing. I almost died when I saw the prices, but the atmosphere was fantastic and the margaritas delicious. Still, I was dreading the bill.

“Ash, there is nothing wrong with you, unless you count being a bad actress. You are going to go straight to Dan’s.” Megs took a sip from her frozen margarita. “And if you check your phone one more time, I’m going to have to confiscate it. Seriously, I’ve seen people waiting for kidney transplants less anxious.”

“Oh, ha-ha, Dr. Winters.” I twilled the stem of my still full margarita glass. I wasn’t feeling it. Not even a little. Pathetic.

“C’mon, Ash. Give us one night, you can see him tomorrow.” Kyla waved over a waitress. “Besides, when are we going to meet your new guy? I can’t remember the last guy you dated.”

“He’s not really
my
guy. It’s complicated.” My hand moved from the stem of my glass to the napkin in my lap, anything to help distract me from these questions. Complicated was an understatement.

Megs knew the full story but Kyla and Brianne had no idea. As far as they knew, I’d met some guy at a job interview—not a lie—and we were kind of seeing each other. They also knew his name was Dan, and they had assumed he was a businessman of some sort—also technically not a lie. Being that I hadn’t dated anyone recently or shown any interest in dating, they were more than a little excited to meet this mystery man. The idea made me nauseous. How would I even introduce Dan? While I was happy with our
arrangement
—that was the best word I could think of to describe it—I didn’t want to complicate this situation with labels or lack-there-of.

“Not fair trying to keep him all to yourself.” Brianne pouted. “Boyfriends need to be vetted. It’s girl code.”

“Guys, I already told you. He’s not my boyfriend. We’re just trying to keep it casual right now, which I’m fine with. He travels a lot. For business,” I qualified, hoping my lame explanation would stop the questions about Dan. Questions I didn’t want to answer.

Megs rolled her eyes at my poor attempt. Secretly, I think she was enjoying it. “Well, it’s obvious Ash isn’t going to play nice. I say we hit a club and dance until we can’t stand up.”

“Yay.” “Yes,” Brianne and Kyla both chimed in enthusiastically. My opportunity to escape slipped further away. I was going to have to remember to kill Megs and her bright ideas when I got her alone.

“I don’t know. I’m tired and I start my new job on Monday. I should probably get an early night so I can spend the rest of tomorrow preparing.” I threw out my last ditch effort to derail Megs’s plans. Plans that had not been discussed nor agreed upon. She knew I hated surprises.

“Yes of course. The fancy-schmancy new job.” Brianne’s brow lifted suggestively. “Does Dan work there too?”

“No.” I shook my head, knowing it was going to take a lot to get them to let this go. Another reason why tonight had been a bad idea. “I’ve been offered a twelve-month contract with JenCorp as an analyst. Of course, Mr. Jennings explained they have room on their staff if they are happy with my performance but he’s pretty conservative which I completely understand.”

The twelve-month timeframe had initially disappointed me, but I understood why a company would take that route. It made smart business sense, and the package I was offered was more than generous. No, seriously. I hadn’t even dreamed of the kind of cash they were throwing at me. Not to mention a company credit card for expenses and use of the company car service. It was like a fantastic fairy tale come to life, but better because it was real.

I knew that within the year I would be able to prove my worth and secure a more permanent position and during our follow-up meeting yesterday, Mr. Jennings had made it clear he was pleased with what I was bringing to the table. While our interaction had been very formal—he’d sat behind his desk the entire time and didn’t crack a smile once—he didn’t seem cold, just cautious. I could deal with cautious. Hell my middle name was cautious. Well, at least it used to be. Ashlyn Cautious Marie Murphy had been a bit wordy, so I guess my middle name was now back to being plain old Marie. Not sure if the relinquishing of the title was a good thing. Time would tell.

“You have all of tomorrow to get responsible,” Megs unhelpfully added. “It’s your birthday and your last weekend of freedom before you become a slave to the corporate machine. You owe this to yourself. Besides,
Dan
would want you to have a good time.”

“Okay.” I let out a long dramatic sigh. I wasn’t going to get out of this easily so I might as well use it to my advantage. “I’ll agree to get incredibly drunk and go to whatever club you all want to go to on one condition. We don’t talk about Dan. No one can mention him or ask anymore questions about him?”

The waitress who Kyla had waved over a while ago finally made her way to the table and brought the check. Not that we’d asked, and given we still hadn’t finished our cocktails, it was kind of rude.

“Here.” She placed the leather folder containing our bill on the table before disappearing.

“What a bitch. She is totally getting minimum tip.” Kyla seethed as she opened up the folder and surveyed the damage. It was a fancy place but we’d been sucking down cocktails for a couple of hours. It was bound to be brutal.

“She is probably having a bad night. It’s busy. Don’t be too hard on her.” I couldn’t help but feel an affinity with that poor girl. I’d been there too many times myself.

“But what’s the point in getting you drunk if we can’t get you to divulge juicy information?” Brianne completely avoided the situation with the waitress, preferring to obsess further about Dan and me, and the possibility of finding out more. Not likely.

“Those are my terms, ladies. Take it or leave it.” I was serious, too. If I couldn’t be doing what I wanted on my birthday I would at least have some level of control over it. “So am I getting in a cab and heading home or we going to drink overpriced shots and fend off unwanted advances?”

Brianne drained what was left in her glass. “Fine. He’s probably boring and wears a sweater vest.”

Megs spluttered loudly as she bit back her smile from across the table. I knew what she was thinking. Dan and boring didn’t even belong in the same hemisphere let alone in the same sentence. I coughed, taking the opportunity to finish my drink. Just thinking of Dan in a sweater vest was hilarious. I should totally buy him one for Christmas. Assuming we are still seeing each other.

Megs pulled out some cash and waved the waitress over. It was a lot of cash. Enough to cover the entire check, and a sizeable tip. Two problems with this: one, there was no way I was allowing her to foot the bill for my birthday dinner and two, Megs rarely carried cash.

“What are you doing?” I asked pointing to the leather folder.

“Ash, it’s your birthday. I’ve got it covered.” She waved me off like it she hadn’t just put a stack full of fifties into the folder.

Kyla gave Megs a pointed look. “We’ll sort it out later.” I knew that at the very least both the girls would be covering their share. Money wasn’t an issue for Megs. We all knew it, but no one was about to take advantage of her generosity.

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll work it out.” Megs pushed out her chair doing little to convince me she was going to be accepting any money from anyone. “Let’s get out of here. I’m nowhere near drunk enough and I have our names on a door.”

“Oooo name on the door. I like it. Megs is in charge of my birthday party next July. Just sayin’.” Brianne smiled as we left our table and made our way to the door.

I had no idea where we were heading and to be honest I didn’t really care. It might have been my birthday but Megs was running the show, and for whatever reason, this seemed important to her. Maybe it was to show me I would be okay post-Dan, maybe it was to show me I could still have a good time with my friends, or maybe she was just being a good friend and making sure I had a happy birthday. Any of those reasons would do. What we needed now was to start drinking. Let go and enjoy the night. Without Dan.

****

“You took us to a bar?” Kyla looked horrified as the cab pulled up to a plain looking brown and red building on Lower East Side. “I thought you had an in at a club?”

“Oh stop being so snobby. This place is great. I’ve heard good things.” Megs smiled as she pulled out even more cash and paid the driver. What was with all the cash?

“I don’t know, Megs.” I looked at the large arched windows. This was not the kind of place I imagined spending my evening avoiding thoughts of Dan. It didn’t look like the kind of place I’d spend my time, period. At all. Ever.

“You getting out?” The driver opened the window divider, his engine still running.

“Yes, of course.” Megs popped open the door and all but pushed me onto the sidewalk. “Give it an hour. You hate it and we’ll go somewhere else. Okay?”

“Sure. Okay. Whatever.” I didn’t even try and hide the fact I wasn’t onboard with her choice in venue. What the hell was this place and would I need a Hep C shot after leaving?

Brianne and Kyla followed us toward the bar/pub/dive/whatever. As we got closer to the front of doorway, I saw a bright red sign with the word
Tommy’s
on the front. The name of this fine establishment I assumed. There was a long line, not that Megs seemed too deterred. She smiled as we walked to the front of the line. She’d already told us that she’d organized our names at the door so I guessed she wasn’t worried about the people who were eyeing us off as we walked past them.

Megs gave the door guy our names and he immediately let us through, shooting us an overly familiar smile. I’m sure in his head he was mocking us. While most people were dressed in denim and leather, the four of us were wearing short skirts and heels. Sure there were other women whose barely there outfits rivaled our skirt lengths, but they were on a different spectrum. A trashier one. Only calling it like I see it.

“Sixty minutes and counting,” I tried to scream over the music, hoping Megs heard. A wall of bass hit us square in the face as we walked into the venue. It was loud and gritty. Some DJ was playing some music I’d never heard, and god willing wouldn’t have to hear again after tonight. Realistically I wasn’t going to need fifty-nine of those minutes, I had already decided. We were out of here the minute the counter expired and the clock was ticking.