“You’re drunk.”
“I assure you, I would lick it off you sober, drunk, bone-tired, or sick as a dog,” he whispered in her ear, flicking the tip of his tongue over her earlobe.
“I’m changing your name to Captain PDA.”
“What can I say? I have my woman here with me, and I’m out with my good friends. All is well in the world,” he said, then pulled back to catch Liam’s attention across the table.
“Liam, we have a bartender in the house. Let her show you how much you wish you had her drinks on your menu here at Speakeasy.”
Julia rolled her eyes, and pushed his shoulder. He grabbed her and kissed her on the lips.
“Man, do I need to book you a room at the Plaza?” Cam said, slamming his hand on the table.
“Yeah, ‘cause we know you have connections everywhere,” Clay said.
“Hey, I told you I got out of that racket.”
“Well, you two boys just keep up the chest thumping, and I’ll go a-mixing,” Julia said, heading to the bar. She perused the offerings, considering gin, vodka and rum, then decided to start with a tequila as the base, adding in some fruity mixers, a little lemon soda and then something special—a secret ingredient. She held up a glass when she was done. “Who wants to be my guinea pig for the Long Distance Lover?”
Liam raised a hand, waving broadly. “My place. I go first.” He trotted over to the bar, brought the glass to his lips, and tasted. “Mmm, this is superb,” he said, smacking his lips. “You’re like a mad scientist of the liquorian variety.”
“Call me a chemist. I’m all about new flavors,” she said with a big smile.
“You need to text me the recipe.”
She shook her head. “A good bartender doesn’t give up her recipes for free.”
“Then give me your number and we’ll make a deal for it.”
She pointed her finger at him playfully. “Now you’re talking,” she said, and rattled off her number.
Liam spun around and used his big stage voice to call out to the table. “Everyone needs one of these.”
After whipping up more cocktails, she returned to the table and served drinks to the rest of the players.
“Mmm, I love it,” Clay said to her after he tasted the drink. He was pretty carefree and happy. Maybe it was the alcohol loosening him up. Or maybe it was because she was winning. He pulled her into his lap.
“Since when do you like mixed drinks?”
Julia looked up to see Michele asking Clay the pointed question.
“Every now and then I like to break out of my habits,” he said.
“You’re always a scotch drinker,” the brunette added pointedly, and there was something protective in Michele’s voice. Almost like a lover, or an ex. An ex who knew things about someone. “You were never like that in college.”
“I was never a lot of things in college.”
College. Julia’s ears pricked at that word. Why on earth did Michele keep hearkening back to college with Clay?
“You were some things,” Michele said.
“C’mon, enough about drinks and college. Time to deal,” Klausman said gruffly, and started doling out the cards.
Julia slid off Clay’s lap and back to her own chair. Focus, she told herself. She was almost there. She had to keep riding this wave of luck and skill to the tune of another few thousand dollars and she’d be free and clear.
She appraised her cards, and soon the betting began. Then the strangest thing happened. Michele won the next hand. And the next. And the next. With each successive win, Julia grew more tense, and she noticed Clay’s light-and-easy mood slip away. He was no longer leaning casually in his chair. He was more focused on the game, his eyes shifting back and forth, and he kept looking at his watch too. The ticking clock, winding down to Charlie.
Michele cleaned up once more with a full house that made Clay sit up straight in his chair and reach into his back pocket. Maybe for his phone. But then he stopped, resting his hands on the table, and checking out Julia’s dwindling stack of chips.
By the time the woman who’d known him since college had sliced Julia’s winnings in half, she was ready to lunge at her and it had nothing to do with her staring at Clay, but everything to do with how jealous Julia was of Michele’s hands all over the money she needed.
She probably didn’t even need it. She’d probably use it for a goddamn spa weekend, not to pay off a mob boss.
“I swear it’s beginner’s luck,” Michele said with the kind of laugh that sparkled. A pure laugh, a happy laugh, but it grated on her to no end because Julia wanted those chips to herself. “I have no clue how to play.”
“What are you going to use your money for, baby?” Liam said, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek. “Take me out someplace nice, will ya? I want to go to the Bahamas again.”
“Yes, and have your picture taken by someone trying to sell you real estate.”
Julia latched onto one word—Bahamas. And it nagged at her brain. “My ex is probably in the Bahamas,” she muttered.
Clay’s eyes snapped up. “Dillon?”
She shrugged. “He always said he wanted to go there,” she said in a low voice.
“He did?” Clay whispered.
“Yeah, but everyone wants to go there. He could be anywhere,” she said, and something inside of Julia coiled tightly, like a viper rising through her chest. Maybe it was her mention of Dillon. Maybe it was Michele’s carefree way with money. Or maybe it was the simple fact that when Liam kissed Michele’s neck, her eyes didn’t flutter closed. She didn’t part her lips to sigh. And she didn’t slide her body closer to his.
Instead, Michele peered out of the corner of her eye at Clay. And the look in her brown eyes was one of such deep longing, and something more. Something much more. In a blinding moment of clarity, Julia no longer sensed that Clay hadn’t been truthful about their relationship. She knew. There was something more to them, and she didn’t care about the game, or the money, or Charlie. She cared about whether she’d been played again.
She pushed back from the table. “Excuse me,” she said, and she tapped his shoulder and cleared her throat. “I need to step outside for a second, and get some fresh air.”
“I’ll join you,” he said, rising and resting his hand on her lower back as she walked to the door, pushed hard on it, and then felt the rush of warm night air on her face. It was close to midnight, and the city was still lively, cars and cabs and people racing by.